Episode 212
I recorded this episode naked in a bed in Rome. I want to be clear that this is not the European awakening it sounds like. It’s because I packed a carry-on and pajamas didn’t make the cut.
But I’m here. My best friend is on her way. I have been wandering around alone, eating whatever I want, drinking wine unexpectedly at 2 PM, && having the kind of conversations that only happen when there’s nothing else demanding your attention.
&& somewhere in the middle of all of it, I started asking questions. The kind that are harder to ask when you’re home, when you’re needed, when you’re performing some version of yourself that’s been quietly optimized for other people’s comfort.
That’s what this episode is about.
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Where Are You Editing Yourself?
I was creating a piece of content this morning when this thought came through: just checking in that you aren’t editing yourself into someone that’s easier to digest again.
&& I felt it. I felt it in my chest because I know exactly what that looks like. The version of you that softens the edges before you even open your mouth. That preemptively apologizes for taking up space. That makes yourself more palatable before anyone has even asked you to.
I’ve been doing it. Not in every area, not all the time, but enough that being here, unscheduled, unneeded, accountable to nobody but myself, made me realize how much quieter the edited version of me has gotten.
If I eat the pizza at home, there’s a whole internal negotiation. Here, I eat the pizza because it looks good && I’m in Italy && who the fuck is saying no to that? That’s a small example. But it points to something bigger: how often are you negotiating yourself out of what you actually want?
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What I Want More Of Right Now
My friend Delia and I kept asking each other this in Barcelona: what do you want more of? && it sounds simple. It sounds obvious. But most of us are genuinely terrible at answering it.
Here’s mine right now. I want more money. I want more boldness. I want more all in energy, the kind that doesn’t hedge, doesn’t qualify, doesn’t wait until conditions are perfect. Delia and I kept saying it to each other like a mantra. I’m all in. I’m all in. It became this thing between us.
I want more impact. I have ideas that are coming to life in the next few weeks that I am genuinely certain about. && that certainty, that feeling of I know exactly what I can bring, I haven’t felt it that clearly in a while. Being witnessed by someone who sees you, really sees you, does something that is very hard to replicate in any other way.
What do you want more of? Not the polished answer. The real one. The one you haven’t said out loud yet.
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The Jealousy Conversation
Delia and I also talked about jealousy, which is one of those conversations that feels uncomfortable right up until you start having it, && then you can’t stop because it keeps pointing at real things.
Jealousy is always a window into what you actually want. We know this. But knowing it and actually sitting with your specific jealousies, naming them out loud, following them to what they mean, that’s a different thing entirely.
I’ll go first.
Jesse Jean’s yap challenge came across my radar while I was off social media, because I had clients who were having serious responses to it && needed some support. I caught up on it, followed it briefly, && felt something I wasn’t expecting. Not resentment, not dismissal. Just a flicker of recognition of a version of me that used to want blow-your-socks-off success that badly. That would show up every single day with that kind of conviction. && I dimmed that a little over the past couple of years. Some of that was necessary. A lot of it wasn’t.
I’m also jealous of people who fly first class like it’s nothing. I’ve tried to crack the points system more times than I can count. && I’m a little jealous of people who are naturally slender. I work incredibly hard, seven days a week, && my body still requires constant attention to maintain. I’ve joked that I work really hard to be mid. But jokes are usually just truths with a softer delivery.
None of this is confession for its own sake. The point is that what you’re jealous of tells you something. Follow it.
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What I Want People to Say When I’m Not in the Room
This one got me a little.
I want people to say I have a big heart. That they knew, just by being around me, that I would drop anything for the people I love. That loyalty is actually one of my defining qualities.
I want people to say they saw me as a mother && thought: she’s really good at this. Because I work hard at it && I care about it more than almost anything.
I want people to say I inspired them to go bigger. To be more fully themselves. To not talk themselves out of things that could change their lives. That’s been a wish of mine for as long as I’ve been doing any of this.
And then, because I can’t just leave it at the humble version, here’s the other side of it.
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The Thing I Teach That I’m Currently Terrible At
I am exceptional at helping women get out of burnout. At teaching emotional management in a way that changes how you use your time && how you show up. I’m genuinely good at it.
I am also in and out of burnout constantly. My whole life.
It is deeply, deeply irritating. And I have had seasons of real imposter syndrome around it: I shouldn’t be exhausted again. I should be better at this by now. I’m the person who teaches this.
But here’s what I’ve come back to, over and over: the magic we give most is almost always the magic we need most. I’m not a good mentor on burnout because I cracked it once && moved on. I’m a good mentor on it because I keep living it, keep working through it, keep finding new angles on something I’ll never be fully done with.
If I’d nailed it the first time, what would I actually have to teach?
So yes. I teach it. I’m not perfect at it. && I think that’s actually the most honest version of what expertise looks like.
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Now it’s your turn. What do you want more of? What are you jealous of? What do you want people saying about you when you leave the room? && what’s the thing you teach or preach that you’re currently terrible at?
Say it out loud. Voice note it. Tell someone.
The unedited version of you is not a liability. She’s the whole point.
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> “Stop editing yourself into someone easier to digest. The unedited version of you is not a liability. She’s the whole point.”
xx, Ash 🖤
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