“To the extent that we are not living our lives, we are living out the lives of others.” — James Hollis

This chapter cuts to the core of what I’ve been trying to do:
Reclaim my life.
Not the life I was trained to live.
Not the life others expected me to inhabit.
Mine.

But that kind of reclamation isn’t neat. It’s not empowering in the way social media would sell it.
It’s disorienting. Lonely.
And it starts by realizing how many parts of myself I’ve handed over to others:

  • The need for approval.
  • The dream of being rescued.
  • The belief that someone else’s opinion of me could tell me who I am.

This chapter made me reflect on how I’ve projected so much of my unmet need onto people — tutors, institutions, friends, even strangers — hoping they’d see me, value me, choose me.

And now I see it:
They can’t give me back what I lost.
They’re not supposed to.

I have to stop asking the world to give me permission to live as myself.

So that’s the work now.
Taking back the power I gave away — not to hoard it, but to use it.
To write the story I want to live in.
To parent my son not from fear or legacy, but from truth.
To walk forward without waiting for someone to tell me I’m allowed to go.

Reflection Prompt:
Where have I handed over my power or sense of self?
What would it look like to take even a small piece of that back — today?