#83 | The Story That's Steering Your Life (And You Didn't Even Hire It)

Have you ever noticed how one quiet belief can end up running your entire life?

Maybe it's I'm not enough. Maybe it's I can't disappoint people. Or maybe it's If I make the wrong decision, everything will fall apart.

In this thought-provoking episode, Jennifer invites you to stop looking outside yourself for answers and start listening to the inner voice you've been ignoring. Through powerful questions, personal stories, humor, and honest reflection, you'll uncover the belief that's been shaping your decisions—and decide whether it deserves to stay in charge.

Grab a notebook, find a quiet place, and give yourself the space to reflect. This isn't just another podcast episode—it's an invitation to reconnect with the person you've been avoiding all along:

Yourself.

Transcript

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Have you ever noticed that we can spend weeks researching, say, uh an espresso maker, read 487 reviews, watch multiple YouTube videos, compare every possible feature, and then somehow convince ourselves that we still don't have enough information to make the decision. But when it comes to the biggest decisions of our lives, our careers, our relationships, our purpose, our health, we're somehow convinced that if we just ask one more person, then we'll finally know what to do, that they have the magic answer we've been searching for. It's almost like we're hoping someone else will volunteer to live our lives for us, or at least make the tough decisions we're not ready to make. Spoiler alert, they won't. Welcome back to Lead with Swagger, the podcast where we get real, raw, and ridiculously honest about what it takes to lead with confidence, authenticity, and a whole lot of heart. Today I'd like to have a different kind of conversation. Not one where I teach you something, one where I ask you something. Actually, a whole bunch of something. Because I have a sneaky suspicion that you already know far more than you think you do. Now, I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I was speaking with one of my clients the other day, and I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. She was wrestling with a decision, not because she didn't know what she wanted to do. She did. She knew deep down. She just didn't trust herself enough to believe what she already knew. Instead, she was collecting opinions, advice, information from friends, family, coworkers, experts, Google, probably AI, and every new opinion sounded reasonable, every perspective made sense, every conversation added another layer until eventually she couldn't hear herself anymore. Have you ever been there? You start with clarity, then someone says, Well, have you thought about? And suddenly you're spiraling. I finally asked her, What is it that's keeping you hanging on to something that is clearly no longer serving you? Silence. Not because she didn't have an answer, because she'd never asked herself the question. And that's that's when it hit me. Most of us don't struggle because we don't know. We struggle because the truth we're carrying is competing with the stories we've believed for years. Now, here's the thing beliefs are funny, we treat them like facts, they're not. A belief is simply a thought you've practiced long enough that it feels true. That's it. Think about that. At some point in your life, someone said something or something happened, maybe a teacher, a parent, a coach, a boss, a relationship. One moment, one comment, one painful experience, and your brain said, Oh, okay, this must be how the world works. Then you carried that belief around for 20 years, like it was engraved on a stone tablet. Now, I remember when I was younger, I carried this belief that everything I did had to be perfect. Now, maybe it was because I was the middle child. I was never the first to do something, and I was never the last. So somewhere along the way, maybe I convinced myself that if I could be, I couldn't be first or last, that perhaps I had to be the best. I had to do it perfectly. Maybe, maybe then I would stand out, maybe then I would be noticed. Now I don't know exactly where that belief began, but I do know it followed me for years. It showed up as crippling test anxiety when I was in school. I'd study, I'd prepare, I'd know the material, then I'd sit down to take the test and freeze. Writing was even worse. I know, kind of ironic, coming from someone who writes almost every single day now. But back then, putting words on paper felt overwhelming because I believed they had to come out perfectly the first time. Every sentence had to be just right, every idea had to be polished before I even let it exist. Now I write first, then I rewrite, I rework, I reframe, I edit. I let messy become meaningful. What changed wasn't my ability to write, it was the belief I carried about writing. Looking back, that perfectionism created far more struggle than success. It kept me from raising my hand, it kept me from trying new things, it convinced me not to take risks until I knew I could succeed. It stole opportunities I didn't even realize I was walking away from. Now, these days, I like to call myself a recovering perfectionist because if I'm honest, that belief still knocks on my door every once in a while. The difference is I don't invite it in for coffee anymore. I recognize it, I thank it for trying to protect me, and then I remind myself that perfectionism isn't the goal anymore. Progress is, growth is, showing up is. And because I've learned to manage that old belief instead of letting it manage me, it no longer gets to keep me stuck or playing small. And here's what's fascinating. Because for years I beat myself up for being a perfectionist. I thought it was my enemy, but over time I realized that belief wasn't trying to hurt me. It was trying to protect me. I somehow, somewhere decided that if I could just do everything perfectly, maybe I wouldn't be criticized, I wouldn't fail, I wouldn't disappoint people. You see, perfection became like my armor. The problem was, it was the problem I should say. It wasn't that it showed up. The problem was that I kept wearing the armor long after the battle was over. And I think that's true for so many of us. Because here's what I've learned: our beliefs usually start out trying to protect us. Think about that. Maybe perfectionism protected you from criticism, or people pleasing protected you from rejection, or staying quiet protected you from conflict. Staying busy protected you from having to feel, or staying small protected you from disappointment. Those beliefs weren't villains, they were bodyguards. And for a season they probably did their job, but here's the problem: they never retired. They're still standing at the front door checking IDs, turning away confidence, sending courage home, and refusing to let opportunity inside. Maybe, maybe it's time to thank them for their service and let them know they're no longer needed. So today, I'm not here to give you answers. I'm here to hand you a flashlight. Because the most powerful breakthroughs don't happen when someone tells you what to think, they happen when you're finally willing to look honestly at what's already inside you. So what do you say? Ready for a challenge? Fabulous. Then let's do this. Now, don't just sprint past these questions. Pause the episode if you need to. Write them down, journal, think, go for a walk, sit on your porch. Whatever helps you hear yourself. Okay, here we go. Let's start with the story. What belief has been quietly running your life without your permission? What's the story you've been telling yourself that keeps you playing small? So, what belief has been quietly running your life without your permission? That story, that story you've been telling yourself that keeps you playing small. Maybe, maybe it's I'm too old, I'm too young, I'm not qualified, I'm not ready, I'll start after. You know the story. The one that somehow always wins the argument. Now, let's turn to the origin. Where do you think that belief, that story, came from? Can you trace it back? Was it a person, an experience, a single moment? Because here's what's really interesting. Sometimes we're still living according to the rules written by someone who isn't even in our life anymore. Think about that. Okay, here's the next one. How has this belief protected you? Because every belief gives us something, even the unhealthy ones. Maybe it kept you safe even for a short while. Maybe it helped you survive. Honor that. Then ask, is survival still what I'm after? Or am I finally ready to live? Now let's turn to evidence. What evidence supports this belief? Be honest. Does it even exist? Then ask yourself what evidence completely blows it apart? Because I promise you, your brain has been ignoring some pretty compelling evidence. Maybe you've succeeded before. Maybe people trust you more than you trust yourself. Maybe you've already become the person you keep telling yourself you're not. Now here's the one that usually gets people. What has this belief, this story, cost you? Really think about it. Has it cost you opportunities, confidence, peace, relationships, dreams, money, joy, your voice? Because every belief has a price tag. Some are just more expensive than others. Now imagine just for a second that that belief, that that story disappeared. Poof, gone. Who would you become? How would you walk into your next meeting, your next conversation, your next opportunity? What decision suddenly becomes easy? What would you stop apologizing for? Where would you show up with more swagger? And finally, what version of you has been waiting patiently for permission to emerge? Well, consider this your permission. Your permission to let those beliefs go, to let those stories go that are no longer serving you. Although, if I'm being honest, you never needed mine. The only permission you've ever been waiting for is your own. So I ask you this. What are you waiting for? The perfect timing, perfect certainty, perfect confidence. Those are terrible travel companions. They never show up on time. Move anyway, trust anyway. Take the first step anyway. Because courage has never required certainty, only movement. So take that first step. Start with these questions. And don't feel like you have to answer all of them at once or at one time. Start with the first one. Start with the story, that belief. Set a timer for 15 minutes. No editing, no judging, no trying to sound profound. Just write. Then when you're finished, circle one belief because chances are you've got many beliefs that you've written down, or many stories that you're holding on to, circle one that you're no longer willing to carry, then write a new belief underneath it. Not one you completely believe yet, but willing to practice. Because beliefs aren't replaced by inspiration, they're replaced by repetition. Now, before we wrap up, if today's episode made you stop and think, don't keep it to yourself. Think of one person who's been carrying a story that's become too heavy. Text in the link with five simple words. Thought of you, listen today. Sometimes transformation begins long before the conversation ever does. And if these episodes are helping you reclaim your voice, make sure to hit follow. Because I don't want you to miss the next conversation that might arrive exactly when you need it. Thank you for spending this time with me. I never take these moments for granted. And before you go, I'd like you to remember something. You don't have to become someone else to live with swagger. You simply have to stop abandoning the person you've always been. I believe there's a version of you already walking towards your future with confidence, peace, and purpose. Every courageous choice you make today helps you catch up to that person. So keep going. Keep questioning the stories that no longer fit. Keep practicing the new beliefs before they feel comfortable. And on the days you wonder whether the work is worth it, remember this. Mountains aren't moved in one potty mighty push. They're moved one determined shovel at a time. So pick up your shovel. Keep showing up, keep doing the work because the world doesn't need a smaller version of you. It needs the one who's finally willing to believe what's been true all along. Until next time, lead with purpose, lead with courage, and always lead with swagger.