Receiving doesn’t start with love or money. It starts the moment you refuse to run from yourself when your mind argues, your body tightens, and you want to crawl under the covers and cry.

Starting something new always triggers fear. I feel it every time I sit down to write.

Even when my inner critic screams, “You’re doing this wrong. You’re too much. You’re not enough.” I still post. Because freedom matters more to me than staying stuck. I know you find your voice by using it long before you feel ready.

Like most nervous systems, mine is wired to believe that visibility might cost me belonging — that people won’t understand me, won’t want to grow together, or might be inconvenienced if I take up more emotional or creative space.

I’ve always been someone who feels things intuitively and deeply. When people speak, I don’t hear words first–I feel their energy. It’s a gift that lets me spot patterns, beauty, and blocks, but it has also made me feel both overwhelmed by people and “too much” for them at the same time.

The belief I internalized was: “You can have feelings, but keep them to yourself and be nice.”

But here’s what I’m finally learning: Your capacity to receive is directly tied to your capacity to stay with yourself when things feel emotionally uncertain.

My nervous system freezes at the exact moments when I want to shine brighter. I can’t get the words out, things stop flowing, I start judging myself and heaviness settles in. That’s the root block that’s kept the next level of abundance at arm’s length.

So I’m practicing holding myself instead of collapsing. Letting my own emotions land, slowing down to process them. Reminding myself that expression is safe, and my self-worth doesn’t depend on how I’m perceived.

Every time I show up and press publish, I reinforce: I am enough. I can hold myself no matter what. It’s okay to be a beginner. I’m getting to know who I am, and this gets to be fun.

I share this because so many of us expanding into visibility feel it too. This is the moment to give the parts of ourselves the presence, steadiness, and belonging they’ve always longed for.

Self-love becomes the container for abundance. Because life meets you where you’re willing to put your hand on your heart and just stay.