RECOGNITION CANNOT BE RUSHED

You cannot rush the process of getting to know yourself.

There was a thought that landed recently that wouldn't leave me alone.

Trust of self needs to have some sort of time around it.

The more I sat with it, the more I realised that I wasn't actually thinking about trust. I was thinking about recognition.

We live in a world that wants certainty now.

Answers now, belonging now, validation now, trust now.

We read books, we listen to podcasts, we seek guidance from mentors, teachers, friends, and strangers on the internet.

We gather evidence from lives that are not our own and hope that somewhere amongst their experiences we will find certainty for ours.

Yet some things refuse to be rushed, and recognition is one of them.

Because no matter how much wisdom someone else shares, they cannot gather evidence on your behalf.

That part belongs to you. Perhaps that is why self-trust feels so elusive.

Not because we lack information, but because information and recognition are not the same thing.

For a long time, I thought self-trust meant confidence. That it meant certainty. That one day, I would wake up and somehow feel completely sure of myself.

Instead, what I discovered was something much less dramatic.

I discovered that trust grows through observation.

When I was younger, I had an opinion about everything.

Not because I thought I was smarter than everyone else, but because I thought that if I didn't speak immediately, I wouldn't be heard.

I would jump into conversations before they had finished unfolding. I would speak over people to get my thoughts across. I believed that if I had something valuable to say, it needed to be said right then and there.

Looking back, I can now see what was sitting underneath it all; the need to prove myself, the need to be seen, the need to know that I belonged in the room.

These days, I find myself asking a very different question.

Is this reflection meant for the conversation? Or is it simply something I need to observe for myself?

Not every observation needs to be spoken aloud, and not every thought requires an audience.

Sometimes silence creates space for someone else to discover their own truth.

Sometimes listening teaches us more than speaking ever could.

I don't know exactly when that shift happened. I can't point to a single moment and say, “There, that’s when I knew”

What I do know is that it happened slowly, the same way that trust happened slowly. The same way recognition happened slowly.

Through observation, through experience, and through gathering evidence.

The part we rarely talk about is what happens between observation and recognition.

The exploration.

The wandering, the uncertainty, the not knowing.

For many of us, that is where the real discomfort lives.

Not in the answer, but in the space before the answer arrives.

I look back at my younger self now, and realise how much of my life was built upon inherited expectations.

At twenty-five, I believed struggle was a badge of honour.

“If my mum could do it, I could do it.” I would say. Simple.

At least that's what I told myself.

What I couldn't see then was how exhausted I had become trying to live up to an idea of resilience that wasn't actually mine.

I didn't need more strength, I actually just needed rest.

I didn't need to push harder, I really just needed space to explore. Space to discover what I actually wanted rather than what I thought I should want.

The struggle for many women isn't a lack of capability, it's that we have become so identified with our roles that we forget to ask ourselves who we are outside of them.

Mother.

Partner.

Caregiver.

Professional.

Provider.

We have become so busy fulfilling expectations that we have rarely stopped long enough to explore what feels true for us.

Not what is expected, not what is admired, not what is socially acceptable.

But actually what is true for us as people.

And that recognition cannot happen without exploration.

You cannot recognise yourself if you never give yourself space to meet yourself.

One of the hardest moments of my life was having to walk away from a career because of a physical injury. The loss itself was difficult, but the uncertainty that followed was even harder.

Who was I without that role?

Who was I without the identity I had built around it?

There was sadness, anger, despair, and the feeling that perhaps I was no longer enough.

Yet underneath all of that was a quieter question;

"If I am not this, then who am I?"

That question could not be answered immediately.

It required exploration, it required time, and it required me to stop seeking certainty and start paying attention.

What I discovered wasn't confidence. It was adaptability.

I adapted.

Not immediately of course. Not even gracefully (if I’m being brutally honest), but eventually, I adapted.

The evidence wasn't that life unfolded exactly as planned, the evidence was that I survived becoming someone new.

Again, and again, and again.

Perhaps this is where self-trust actually begins.

Not when we finally feel certain, but when we start respecting what we uncover about ourselves. Even when it is inconvenient, when it is unflattering, when it challenges the story we have been telling ourselves all this time.

Self-trust isn't believing that you will always make the right decision.

It's trusting yourself enough to explore.

Trusting yourself enough to discover that being the wrong person for the right situation is sometimes part of the journey.

Trusting yourself enough to wander.

To question.

To change your mind.

To become.

When I look back at the younger version of myself, the one who wore struggle as a badge of honour, I don't feel embarrassed, I don't feel ashamed, I feel grateful.

Without her stubbornness, I never would have seen my own edges.

Without her anger, I never would have recognised the pressure I was placing upon myself.

Without her, I never would have understood the cost of carrying expectations that were never mine to begin with.

She didn't know any better, she was working with the information she had.

Just as I am now.

Just as you are now.

Perhaps that is the piece we forget when we talk about self-trust.

We imagine it as a destination, a moment of certainty, a final arrival.

But maybe trust of self needs time around it because recognition cannot be rushed.

Not recognition from others, but a recognition of yourself.

The kind that only comes from living.

From exploring, and observing, and from gathering enough evidence to realise that you have been meeting yourself all along.

Not perfectly, not flawlessly, but honestly.

And eventually, that becomes enough.

If this piece stirred something within you, the spoken version of this transmission is available inside When the Portal Speaks - a private audio sanctuary for Portal Walkers.

A space for reflections, observations, and conversations from the threshold.

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