Unasked

Fabiola Delva: Something happened between the last time I sat down to record this and right now the recording disappeared. All of it, gone. And I thought about waiting until I found it, but that would make me everything I've been talking about. The morning after you decide nothing would be able to stand in your way, except you, and the voices in your head reminding you of what you don't have, as if you couldn't go get it. Fabiola. And this is waiting. Is it working? And I want to be honest with you. This morning, my voice is not clear, but it wouldn't have mattered either way. Frankly, my voice could do whatever it wants. ⁓ I would record this. ⁓ Fear and Progression have been running the show for a long time, quietly, without announcement, and most of us don't even notice. because never introduced themselves. They just showed up and ⁓ took over. But is what I want to understand today, you can take it back. Not fighting. ⁓ Not by having everything figured out. Just by ⁓ deciding. And I know those voices. Why should they listen to you? Why would you write a book on procrastination? You're not an expert. I mean, they are dastardly. Those are the voices and they were very convincing. They sound... They sound like someone looking out for you, but they're not. They are a procrastination asking you to disqualify yourself before anyone else gets the chance to. And the answers to both of those questions is the same. Nobody else has your experience. Nobody else has your seven years. Nobody else has your story. And the person who needs to hear it doesn't need an expert. She needs someone who lived it. And want to tell you something about those voices. Because I think this is the part most people don't talk about. Before I started milking, I didn't argue with them. I didn't push back or try to prove them wrong. I just obeyed. I let them make the decision. I let them run the show. I let them make the call. And The dream? Well, the dream stayed exactly where I put it. On my computer. Safe. Untouched. Seven years of very careful storage, I might add. But here's what I noticed. When I finally started moving, I didn't silence the voices. I didn't win some argument against them or suddenly feel confident enough to ignore them. I just started. That's it. And the more I moved, the quieter they got. Not because I convinced them, but because I stopped waiting for their permission to begin. I can barely hear them now. they are still there, I would pretend they're not. But they no longer have the loudest voice in the room. And that's a very different thing. So that's what I want for you, not the absence of doubt, not some magical morning where the voices go quiet and everything feels clear. Just a decision to move anyway. Because here's what I know to be true. Movement is louder than doubt. And I want to tell you something about the moment I pressed publish. I wasn't suddenly fearless. I wasn't suddenly confident. I was still a woman in doubt. But I pressed published anyway. And with that one quiet decision, I took it back on ask. On and out. Just done. I want you to feel something before this episode ends. Think about the last time you completed something at work. Something hard. Something that took you had. And ⁓ when it was done, you felt That quiet internal shift. ⁓ I ⁓ did that. You already know this feeling. You've felt it before. You just haven't felt it for yourself. Not for your job. Not for someone else's dream. For yours. And once you do that, you become unstoppable. Not because fear disappeared. Not because the voices stopped. But because you found something stronger than both. If this resonated with you in any way, ⁓ share it with someone who might it. I'll see you in the next one. Bye. ⁓