Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Permission Granted

Remember those permission slips we used to get in grade school? Our parents had to sign them and send them back with us or we weren't allowed to go on the field trip, or watch the movie, or whatever. "Barby has my permission to go to Plank Road Farm to watch maple syrup being made on March 19, 1968. Signed, Kathleen Black." And that was it, off we went.

What we need to do is give ourselves, as adults, some permission slips. Such as:

You have permission to sing. Wherever you are, no matter what your voice sounds like. Belt it out. You'll feel better and people will smile because you're happy.

You have permission to love whoever you want to love. It's nobody's choice but yours. If it turns out to be a bad choice, it's nobody's problem but yours.

You have permission to not believe in God. You're a good person regardless.

You have permission to choose. It's your life, take control.

You have permission to dissolve any relationship that is not satisfying or healthy.

You have permission to dream. You also have permission to take whatever steps are possible to achieve that dream.

You have permission to speak up. If it is important to you, let it be known. True mind readers are few and far between.

You have permission to tell people that you love them. This is the very last thing you should be shy about. Tell everyone. Often.

You have permission to be alone and to be silent. Constant input is not necessary. Take a few minutes of solitude and quiet.

You have permission to be silly, to giggle, to be childlike in your humor. It will keep you young.

You have permission to have sex. Whether it's with a partner of whichever sexual persuasion you prefer, or all by yourself (even if you have a partner), or with electronics, it doesn't matter. Sexual pleasure is a good thing (provided nobody gets hurt and no animals are harmed). It releases endorphins.

You have permission to howl at the moon. Deep down we are animals. We need to reconnect with our animal instincts more often.

You have permission to be curious, to question, to learn. And never stop.

You have permission to laugh even when no one else thinks it's funny, or cry even if no one else gets why. Emotions are personal. Yours are as much your own as your thumbprints are.

You have permission to wonder if your life would have been better if you'd never had children. This does not make you a bad parent.

You have permission to never have children. This does not make you incomplete.

You have permission to have an idea for something new and try it. Failure is in not trying.

You have permission to better yourself. Some people won't like that you've changed. Because they haven't.

You have permission to have a wonder-filled day. Every day.

And you have my permission to add other "you have my permission" ideas to my comments section.


  1. You have permission to wear your pajamas all day. And i do, a lot.

  2. Thank you Barb. I needed, NEEDED to read this today. Now, last week, last year even. Thank you. Thank you.

  3. *glances down at bathrobe* Huh... missed that one. Thanks, Jessica!

    Dana, you have permission to not be strong ALL. THE. TIME. (definitely missed that one too!)Love you, pal!


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