Stepping back into the arena
It’s been a while since I’ve written here.
Seven months ago, in October, I had my baby boy, and life has felt both fuller and more expansive in ways I didn’t fully anticipate. It’s been a period filled with inexplicable joy, deep learning, and of course, challenges that have stretched me in entirely new directions.
As things have gradually settled and I’ve been able to come up for air again, I’ve found myself thinking about reconnecting with my coaching community.
But as I sat down to write this, I felt so much resistance.
Not because I had nothing to say. I have so much to say.
Seven months of experiences, lessons, and stories have piled up in my mind.
But after being away for so long, I found myself staring at a blank page wondering where to begin and then right on cue, self-doubt started creeping in.
I know I’m not alone in this feeling of being out of the arena and wanting to get back in.
Maybe you:
Have been meaning to get back to that passion project you started
Want to start interviewing for a new job
Are getting ready to return to work after a pause like me
And you might be feeling a little shaky and uncertain.
You might be thinking…
Will I know what I’m doing?
Will I stumble over my words?
Will people judge me?
When something feels outside our comfort zone, our inner critic gets loud.
We haven’t put in the reps lately, so our courage muscle is a little rusty.
If I’m honest with myself, having a baby gave me a reason to step out of the arena for a while. And there’s something wonderfully comfortable about staying there.
But comfort isn’t always where the next version of us is waiting.
I want my baby boy to see a mom who goes after what she wants.
I want him to see her using and sharing her gifts with the world.
Not because she’s fearless. Most of us aren’t fearless.
I want him to see that courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s being willing to move forward alongside it.
When I was in the final hour of labour, I didn’t know if I had much more left to give.
The pain felt like nothing I’d ever experienced, and my body was getting tired. But I kept saying to myself:
“The only way out is through.”
If I wanted to meet this little human, and meet a new version of myself, I had to be willing to face, and even embrace this temporary discomfort.
I think that’s true of so many things.
Most of us are holding ourselves back in some way.
There’s something we want, but we’re avoiding it because of the feelings it might bring up: uncertainty, embarrassment, disappointment, rejection.
We want confidence before we take action. But confidence is usually the result of taking action.
We build it by showing up before we feel ready.
By taking the first step before we know exactly where it’s going.
The first few times you get back into the arena might not feel great.
They also might be far easier than you expected.
I write this as this entire piece has flowed out of me in a way I couldn’t have predicted.
Maybe you’ve been out of the arena for seven months. Maybe it’s been seven years.
Either way, the way back is the same.
One shaky conversation.
One application.
One post.
One attempt.
Confidence doesn’t come first.
You build confidence by stepping back into the arena again and again.
With love & encouragement,
Ashley
