1d • General Chat
Day 3: Pattern Interrupt
Finding My Voice: Breaking the Limiting Beliefs That Were Never Mine to Keep
Who's voice is it?
I can’t quite pinpoint where it all started.
When I look at pictures of myself as a baby and listen to the stories told about me as a little girl, I see someone who was a go-getter. I hear stories of a fearless, adventurous little girl who climbed things, jumped off things, and wasn’t afraid to try, even if it meant getting hurt along the way.
But somewhere along the journey, something changed.
That bold, adventurous little girl slowly retreated into her shell, seeking shelter within herself.
My dad was a humble man of few words, a hardworking man who was often described as the peacekeeper and peacemaker. My mom, on the other hand, was more assertive. She was the one who spoke up, got things done, and made things happen. She was also a hardworking go-getter in her own right.
Yet somewhere between the ages of one and seven, I began to change. The busy, fearless little girl seemed to disappear, and in her place emerged a shy, quiet, introverted little girl.
I remember people saying that this was only the beginning.
By my teenage years, I was carrying so much internally. Confusion, rejection, feeling misunderstood, feeling lost, fear of failure, unhappiness, anger, toxic thinking, self-sabotage, insecurity, low self-esteem, and the pain of being bullied.
I felt exposed and vulnerable, often questioning myself and my worth.
And yet, underneath all of that, there was one thing I always wanted to be: a friend who loved others, showed kindness, and genuinely cared.
Those were the things I felt deeply, but they were also the things I had to give.
So, where did that voice come from? Whose voice was it? And where did those limiting beliefs and blockages begin?
Wow. I had forgotten how good it feels to journal.
I remember asking myself, even as a young girl, whether I was truly meant to be here. I endured so much hardship at the hands of unkind people, and I could never understand why. All I wanted was to love, serve, and treat others with kindness, yet I often found myself on the receiving end of cruelty.
I became so accustomed to people being unkind that when someone showed me genuine kindness, I questioned it. Sometimes, I even felt unworthy of receiving it.
And perhaps that is where some of the deeper patterns began to take root.
When you become accustomed to pain, kindness can feel unfamiliar. When you grow up questioning your worth, receiving something good can feel uncomfortable. And when you struggle to believe you are deserving of good things, you can find yourself sabotaging the very opportunities you’ve been praying for.
I see that pattern in myself even today.
An opportunity presents itself, and before I have even given myself the chance to walk through the door, I begin questioning everything.
Is this really meant for me? Do I deserve this? What if I fail? What if it doesn’t work out? What is waiting for me on the other side? Will it be good, or will it hurt me?
It’s the uncertainty of the unknown. The fear of stepping into something I cannot yet see or fully understand.
But I am tired.
Tired of feeling stuck. Tired of choosing comfort over opportunity. Tired of allowing fear, doubt, and old patterns to make decisions for the woman I am becoming.
I want to understand what is holding me back, particularly when it comes to money, success, and believing that I am capable of creating a different life.
Perhaps one of the beliefs I absorbed along the way was, “Money doesn’t grow on trees.” Or, “If there isn’t enough, you simply have to go without.”
Maybe those words shaped the way I see money, possibility, and what I believe is available to me.
But I don’t blame my mother for those beliefs. She was navigating life with what she knew, what she had experienced, and what had perhaps been passed down to her, too.
This pattern may have started long before her, long before me, and long before I even had the awareness to question it.
And thankfully, I am beginning to recognise it.
Because what has been passed down does not have to be passed on.
I am choosing to be the generational pattern-breaker in my family.
I am choosing to say, Enough. It stops with me.
I want my son to grow up knowing that he is capable, worthy, and more than enough. I want him to understand that the things he dreams of are not automatically out of reach simply because they have never been done before.
I want him, and the generations that follow him, to know that what they learn, apply, and implement can open doors they once thought were impossible to walk through.
I want him to believe in his God-given potential, to move with faith, to persevere through challenges, and to understand that he is more than a conqueror.
I want him to inherit possibilities, not limitations.
And while I am beginning to recognise some of these patterns, I still cannot confidently pinpoint the exact limiting belief that has held me back for so long.
Perhaps I have already answered my own question somewhere in these reflections, but I am still learning to see it clearly.
What I do know is that deep down, there has always been something within me that refuses to give up.
Even in my lowest moments, there has been a part of me that believes there is more. A part of me that keeps getting back up, trying again, and refusing to let the story end where the struggle began.
Perhaps that inner knowing has been my greatest reminder that the person I have believed myself to be is not the full extent of who I am capable of becoming.
I am meant for success. I am worthy of prosperity. I am capable of learning, growing, and building something meaningful.
I am enough, even while I am still becoming.
But when did I begin to believe otherwise?
I believe some of that voice began early in my life, although I cannot pinpoint the exact moment or experience that gave it permission to take root.
All I remember is feeling insecure, uncertain, and unsure of myself. I questioned whether certain things were ever meant for me, whether I was capable enough, and whether I truly deserved the good things I saw others experiencing.
For so long, I allowed those questions to remain unanswered, and perhaps I began living as though the doubts were the truth.
But they were never the whole truth.
And now, I find myself at a place where I am ready to choose a different voice.
Not the voice of fear. Not the voice of rejection. Not the voice that tells me to stay small, play safe, and retreat whenever something unfamiliar appears.
I want to hear the voice of truth.
My truth.
The truth I am learning to speak in my own voice, with faith, conviction, and the courage to believe what I have perhaps known deep down all along.
I believe I have a unique calling, one that I am meant to fulfil in the way only I can. We are all uniquely created, with different experiences, gifts, and assignments. While our journeys may intersect, there are things we are called to do that only we can do in our own way.
And I believe I am here for a reason.
I believe I am meant for more.
I believe I am enough.
I believe I have been chosen for a time such as this.
And I believe the opportunity I have said yes to is about more than whether it succeeds financially. Of course, I want to succeed. I want to grow, prosper, and create a life with greater freedom and possibility.
But there is something deeper beneath that desire.
There is the little girl’s heart that has always wanted to help others, to love on people, to show kindness, and to make a difference.
There is the woman who has experienced rejection, insecurity, grief, and self-doubt, yet still desires to help other women discover their own worth and potential.
There is the possibility that, by walking through a door I once would have closed out of fear, I may help someone else find the courage to open theirs.
And that is why I want to find my voice.
I want to amplify it. I want to share my story, not because I have everything figured out, but because I know what it feels like to struggle silently, to question yourself, and to wonder whether you are worthy of the very things you desire.
My story is not something I want to keep hidden away forever.
Somewhere, there may be another woman who sees herself in my struggles. Someone who has been labelled, misunderstood, or made to feel small. Someone who has dreams but keeps talking herself out of pursuing them. Someone who has become so familiar with disappointment that she struggles to believe something good could be waiting for her.
And perhaps, by sharing my story, I can remind her that she is not alone.
Perhaps my willingness to speak will become the permission someone else needs to believe in herself again.
I am learning that I do not have to wait until I have conquered every fear, answered every question, or overcome every limiting belief before I can use my voice.
I can speak while I am still healing. I can grow while I am still learning. I can take the next step even when I cannot see the entire path ahead.
My story does not have to remain a record of what I have endured. It can become a testimony of what I have overcome and a source of hope for someone else.
For too many years, I allowed the voice that limited me to influence the way I saw myself and the opportunities in front of me.
But I am ready for that to change.
I am no longer willing to let the voice of fear write the rest of my story.
I want to become the woman who chooses courage over comfort, faith over fear, and possibility over the limitations she once accepted as truth.
I want to become the woman who no longer closes the door before giving herself the chance to walk through it.
And perhaps this is what breaking the cycle truly looks like: recognising the patterns, questioning the beliefs, choosing differently, and continuing to show up even when the process feels uncomfortable.
I may not yet know exactly when those limiting beliefs began, or where every one of them came from.
But I know I do not have to spend the rest of my life being governed by them.
I can honour where I have come from without allowing it to determine where I am going.
I can acknowledge the little girl who felt rejected, misunderstood, and unworthy, and remind her that she never had to earn her worth in the first place.
I can embrace the woman I am today, with all her questions, fears, faith, and potential.
And I can move forward knowing that my past may explain some of my patterns, but it does not have to define my future.
So, today, I choose to believe.
I choose to believe that I am meant for more.
I choose to believe that I am worthy of success and prosperity.
I choose to believe that I am capable of learning, growing, and doing things I have never done before.
I choose to believe that my voice matters, my story has purpose, and my calling is worth pursuing.
I choose to stop hiding behind the fear of who I might become and start showing up as the woman I was created to be.
Because the little girl who once wanted nothing more than to love, serve, and care for others is still in me.
She has not disappeared. She has simply been buried beneath years of doubt, hurt, fear, and beliefs that were never meant to have the final say.
And now, I am giving her permission to come out of hiding.
To dream again.
To trust again.
To take up space.
To use her voice.
To walk through the doors she once feared.
And to believe that good things are possible for her, too.
I am finding my voice, reclaiming my worth, and breaking the patterns that no longer serve me.
My story is not finished.
This time, I am not allowing fear to be the author.
This time, I am choosing to write the next chapter with faith, courage, and the conviction that I am enough.
Yes, I am meant for more. And yes, I deserve to give myself the chance to discover just how much more is possible.
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Day 3: Pattern Interrupt
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