Earlier this week I went through a healing session — a regression — where you revisit moments from your past. I landed in a childhood episode I’d never explored before.
I went in with a clear intention: I wanted to understand why I keep sabotaging my own success. I’ve built multiple products and projects that have generated six figures… and then I’ve walked away from them. Burned them down. I’ve launched dozens of new ideas, and when they didn’t take off immediately, I scrapped them and chased the next one. There’s always another idea.
In the regression, I re-experienced how I felt as a child in relation to other kids my age, to my parents — especially my mother — and to the world itself. There was an emotional rupture there. And something in that session healed.
What I’ve come out with is a renewed sense of solidity and strength.
Around the same time, I’d been reading Secrets of Natural Success by William Whitecloud. In it, he talks about developing intuitive ability. And there are three words that hit me hard:
Make it up.
When you’re trying to listen to your intuition — your superconscious, the collective field, whatever language makes sense to you — he says: make it up.
As kids, we’re told not to do that. Don’t make things up. That’s silly. That’s fantasy.
But what are you using when you make something up?
Your imagination.
And where does that come from?
That idea had been fermenting in the background. Then after this session — feeling loved, strong, capable — it was as if a layer of doubt had simply fallen away. The kind of doubt that had been quietly sabotaging me for years, with my permission.
The next morning I woke up and thought: fine. I’ll make it up. Who do I choose to be in this world?
And suddenly there was clarity.
I don’t need to tell you what I’ve chosen. That’s mine. But the point is this: if you’ve spent decades asking, “What do I want to do when I grow up?” — choose.
Make it up.
What I realised is that it was always there. I already knew. I just hadn’t fully owned it. I hadn’t spoken it. I hadn’t embodied it.
Chasing bills will never inspire me. Chasing something great will.
So if you’ve been waiting for permission to embody the version of you that you sense is there — you have it.
Choose.
