It’s a stack of gorgeous fabric I bought in India in 2011, and until recently, I never questioned why it was still sitting in my closet after all this time.
The Scene in Chennai
Let me take you back to that sweltering afternoon in Tamil Nadu, South India. I was hot, tired, overwhelmed, and completely unprepared for the sensory assault of the textile district. Every shop seemed to burst with color – bolts of silk cascading from ceiling to floor, vendors calling out prices in multiple languages, the smell of incense mixing with dust and wool.
I’d been wandering in sensory overload for hours when I ducked into this tiny shop to escape the heat. The shopkeeper, a man with kind eyes and impossibly fast hands, immediately sized me up as someone who appreciated quality. He started pulling out bolt after bolt of eye-popping fabrics, each one more stunning than the last.
“Feel this,” he said, unrolling a length of deep burgundy silk shot through with gold thread. “Hand-woven. Very special.”
But when he unrolled the next piece – full of these impossible colors that seemed to shift between emerald and sapphire depending on how the light hit it – I almost gasped. Out loud. Like someone had just shown me treasure.
“This one,” I said immediately, my heart racing. “And that deep purple one. And… oh god, that golden one too.”
I came home with an armload of the most beautiful fabric I’d ever seen. Fabric that made my heart sing just looking at it. Fabric that was definitely worth every rupee.
And it’s been sitting in my closet ever since. Waiting.
The Invisible Waiting Room
Because here’s the thing about this fabric: it’s not just beautiful. It’s BOLD. The kind that announces you’ve entered the room before you even speak. The kind that says “look at me, I’m here, I matter.” The kind that requires you to take up space unapologetically.
And apparently, I’ve been waiting thirteen years to be ready for that level of visibility.
I keep telling myself I’ll make it into clothes when… when what exactly?
- When I’m more confident?
- When I’m comfortable being the person who wears show-stopping colors?
- When I’m brave enough to own that much presence?
- When I deserve to wear the “good stuff”?
But this week, as I was painting, something shifted. I looked at the piece I was working on – all those bold colors I’m not afraid to put together on a painting, all that visual energy that makes me positively giddy.
I’m already wearing bold colors. Just with paint instead of silk.
I’m already comfortable taking up visual space. Just in my art instead of my body.
I’m already the person who creates things that announce themselves. I just haven’t been ready to wear them.
The Permission We Never Needed
You know what I realized? Most of us have invisible finish lines we’ve created for our own lives. Some arbitrary point in the future when we’ll finally be “ready” to be fully ourselves.
We’re all living in some version of a waiting room, postponing pieces of our lives until we meet criteria we can’t even clearly define.
Maybe you’re waiting to:
- Start that creative project until you’re “good enough”
- Apply for that job until you’re “qualified enough”
- Travel to that place until you’re “brave enough”
- Wear that garment until you’re “thin enough”
- Share your ideas until you’re “smart enough”
- Take up space until you’re “worthy enough”
But here’s what know: that permission we’re waiting for? It was never required in the first place.
The Art That Taught Me
This is a mixed-media piece I created recently:
Look at those colors. Look at that energy. Look at that BOLDNESS.
I didn’t ask permission to put red right next to teal. I didn’t wait until I was “ready” to use that strip of iridescent paper. I didn’t postpone using the velvet wallpaper until some future moment.
I just followed what felt alive in THIS moment.
The same creative force that flows when I stop controlling the outcome of a painting?
It wants to flow through my whole life.
The same trust I have when I add another layer of paint without knowing where it’s going?
That’s available when I’m getting dressed in the morning too.
I’m already bold. I’m already creative. I’m already someone who breaks conventional rules and follows what feels authentic. I do it every time I pick up a paintbrush.
So what exactly am I waiting for permission to do elsewhere in my life?
The Real Question
What if YOU are already ready for the thing you think you need to prepare for?
What if you’re already brave enough, smart enough, good enough, worthy enough?
What if the only thing standing between you and that gorgeous life you’re dreaming of is some made-up rule about when you’ll be “ready” to claim it?
I started thinking about all the ways we postpone joy, postpone beauty, postpone full engagement with our lives.
The fancy dishes we save for special occasions that never come.
The books we’ll write “someday.”
The trips we’ll take when we have more money, more time, more courage.
The clothes we’ll wear when we’re worthy of that much beauty.
What We’re Really Waiting For
But maybe what we’re really waiting for isn’t permission at all. Maybe we’re waiting for certainty. For a guarantee that we won’t be judged, criticized, or rejected. For proof that we deserve what we want before we reach for it.
The thing is, that guarantee never comes. People have opinions no matter what you do. You can wear beige and blend into the wallpaper, and someone will still have something to say about it.
So if judgment is inevitable, why not get judged for being magnificent instead of invisible?
The Experiment I’m Trying
This week, I’m going to do something radical. I’m going to take one piece of that Indian silk to a seamstress and have something made.
Not when I lose weight.
Not when I’m more confident.
Not when I’m ready to be seen.
Now.
While I’m perfectly imperfect.
While I’m still figuring things out.
While I’m still sometimes unsure if I deserve beautiful things.
Because maybe the point isn’t to wait until you’re worthy of your dreams. Maybe the point is to start living them and discover you were always worthy.
Your Turn
So here’s what I want to know: What are you waiting to give yourself permission for?
What’s your Indian fabric?
What piece of joy, beauty, or full expression are you postponing until some arbitrary future moment when you’ll magically be “ready”?
Maybe it’s:
- The creative project gathering dust in your mind
- The bold statement piece hanging unworn in your closet
- The trip you keep saying you’ll take “next year”
- The hobby you think you’re too old/young/busy to start
- The opinion you never share because you’re not “expert enough”
- The space you don’t take up because you’re not “important enough”
What if you didn’t need permission?
What if you were already enough, right now, in this moment, reading these words?
What would you let yourself do if you believed that?
The Beautiful Truth
Here’s what I’m living into: The permission you’re waiting for isn’t coming from outside you. It never was.
The readiness you’re seeking isn’t a destination you arrive at.
It’s a choice you make, right now, to trust that you’re already worthy of your own life.
You don’t need more credentials to have valid opinions.
You don’t need a perfect body to wear beautiful clothes.
You don’t need more confidence to take up space.
You don’t need more money to start creating.
You don’t need more time to begin living.
You just need to remember that you’ve been ready all along.
The fabric is still sitting in my closet. But not for much longer.
Because thirteen years is long enough to wait for permission that was never needed in the first place.
Ready to question more invisible rules that might be running your life? Join other conscious rule-breakers getting regular reality checks and gentle rebellions against artificial limitations. [Join The Freeflow Rebellion here.]
Want to see how this philosophy shows up in my art? [Explore my latest pieces here.]
