There’s something about September that still makes me think about permission. Maybe it’s all those years of Back to School, when change was simply built into the season. New teachers, new classes, new clothes, new routines, new things to learn, and, if you were lucky, a brand-new box of crayons with every point still perfectly sharp.
I loved all of it. The new fall clothes we bought even though Texas was generally nowhere near ready for fall. Packages of new underwear and socks. Brand-new Keds. Folders without a single bent corner and binders filled with blank lined paper. I even loved that unmistakable waxy smell when you opened a fresh box of crayons. Everything seemed to say that something different was allowed to happen now.
Maybe that’s the part of Back to School I still carry with me. There was an expectation that you would learn, change, try things, develop new interests, meet different people, and discover more about who you were becoming. Nobody expected you to arrive in September exactly as you had left in May, and somewhere in adulthood, we can forget that we’re still allowed to do that.
You’re a Grown-Ass Adult. You Get to Choose.
There are obviously limits to adult freedom. The mortgage company remains surprisingly unmoved by our yearning for six months in Paris, and deciding you no longer enjoy doing laundry does not cause clean underwear to manifest in the drawer. Money matters. Responsibilities matter. Other people sometimes have a legitimate stake in our decisions.
But there’s still an enormous stretch of life where nobody is actually stopping us. You can cut your hair, grow it long again, dye it a completely different color, switch perfumes because the one you’ve worn for twenty years suddenly smells like someone you no longer are, try a different style of clothes, rearrange your furniture, take yourself to lunch, learn French, quit buying a brand you don’t like anymore, or stop reading a book you hate even though everyone else apparently thinks it changed civilization.
None of those choices has to qualify as a major life event. Sometimes we act as though a decision needs to be important enough to justify making it, when really you’re allowed to prefer something else simply because you prefer it.
Permission Can Be Tiny or Enormous
Some choices are bigger. Maybe Paris isn’t a fantasy about croissants but a trip you’ve wanted to take for years. Maybe you want to go back to school, change careers, move somewhere new, start a business, take up painting, travel alone, write a book, or finally stop doing something that has occupied a ridiculous amount of your life without giving much back.
Those choices deserve thought. Being a grown-ass adult doesn’t mean being reckless. You may need to save money, make a plan, talk with your spouse, consider your responsibilities, or wait until the timing makes sense. But “I need to think this through” is very different from “I’m not allowed to want this,” and that distinction matters.
We can get so accustomed to asking whether something is sensible, productive, useful, practical, affordable, convenient for everyone else, or consistent with who we’ve always been that we forget another perfectly legitimate question: Would I like this? Sometimes that question is enough to open the door to whatever comes next.
Stop Waiting for an Engraved Invitation
I still catch myself wanting reassurance sometimes. I’ll be considering something I already know I want, mention it to JB, and hear, “Treat yourself, sweetheart. If you love it, get it.” A good friend can do the same thing with a simple, “Why wouldn’t you?” and suddenly the decision feels easier, mostly because someone else has reminded me there was never actually a rule against it.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting encouragement. We all need someone to cheer us on now and then. But it’s worth noticing when you’ve quietly appointed other people to a committee that gets to vote on your life. Not everyone will understand every choice you make, and some people may prefer your old hairstyle, your old routine, your old priorities, or the version of you who always said yes. They’re allowed to have opinions, but you’re still the one living your life.
You don’t need an engraved invitation to change something simply because it doesn’t suit you anymore.
If You Need a Permission Slip, Here You Go
Maybe that’s why I still love the idea of an actual permission slip. Childhood trained us to expect a signature before we left early, went on the field trip, or did something outside the normal routine, and apparently some part of us never entirely forgot. But the pen is in your hand now. You can try something new because you’re curious, change something small because it would make Tuesday nicer, spend money on something beautiful if it fits your budget, stop doing something you’ve outgrown, or finally admit that you want something different.
The same is true for bigger changes. They may need thought, planning, money, patience, or a conversation with someone whose life is genuinely affected by your decision. But your wishes do not have to survive a tribunal before they’re allowed to matter. Your tastes will change. Your priorities will shift. Things that once delighted you may become boring, while something you never cared about suddenly fascinates you. That isn’t inconsistency. That’s what happens when a person keeps living.
So perhaps September can keep one Back to School tradition after all. Buy the fresh notebook if you want one. Open the new box of crayons. Then ask yourself what you’d like to try, change, learn, wear, buy, stop, start, visit, taste, or do simply because this version of you wants to. Darling, you’re a grown-ass adult. In a surprising number of cases, you’re the one who gets to sign the permission slip.
What might you want if you gave yourself permission?
Diving Into the Depths of Your Desires
What do you really want?
It sounds like a simple question until you try to answer it without immediately considering what’s practical, expected, or easiest for everyone else.
Diving Into the Depths of Your Desires is a reflective workbook designed to help you listen beneath the first answer, notice what you want more of and less of, and become curious about what your desires may be telling you.
You don’t have to reinvent your life. You only need enough honesty to hear yourself.
Purchase Diving into the Depths of Your Desires here.
