The Real Reason You Can’t Step Into Your Next Chapter Yet

If you’re in the quiet in-between—outgrowing who you used to be but not yet sure who you’re becoming—this is for you.

Everywhere you turn, women are being urged to step into their power.

Speak your truth. Own your choices. Take up space. Be bold. Be free.

And maybe you want that. You believe in that (I do too).

But something is holding you back from embracing that new version of you.

What if it’s not about your ability to rise—but your resistance to letting go?

Letting go of the "good girl" isn’t always a bold, fist-pumping moment. It can feel quiet, tender—like sadness wrapped in nostalgia. Mourning a version of yourself that was praised, rewarded, and depended on. The one who smoothed over awkward silences, said yes when she wanted to say no, and got rewarded with “you’re just so easy to be around”—like that was the highest compliment.

We’ve been taught to:

• Be polite and accommodating (don’t talk back)

• Prioritize others’ comfort over our own truth (they know better)

• Measure our worth by how we’re seen (hello, external validation)

• Pretend in order to stay likeable and included

• No wonder it’s hard to let her go.

This is a gentle invitation to explore why she showed up, why it might feel hard to release her, and what it means to let go without shame. You’ll walk away with language for what you’re feeling, compassion for who you’ve been, and the quiet courage to choose yourself—gently and truthfully.

That’s no small thing.

She Was Doing Her Best

Let’s start with this: There is nothing wrong with you.

When we begin unraveling old behaviors, it’s easy to judge our past selves. But the truth is, you became the “good girl” for reasons that made sense at the time.

As kids, we’re sponges. We soak up messages from our families, schools, and culture—learning that being good equaled being safe, accepted, and loved.

So you conformed:

• You stayed quiet at home because you’ve been told your opinion didn’t matter.

• You went along with friends—even when you didn’t want to—just to belong.

• You held your tongue in relationships to keep the peace.

None of that makes you wrong. Those were real acts of self-protection. She helped you survive. She got you through.

And now?

You’re ready for something more meaningful.

You’re Ready to Go Deeper

You don’t need those old patterns to feel safe anymore. They were built to serve a version of you that no longer exists.

Maybe you’ve noticed:

• Certain friendships feel draining

• Pretending feels heavier than ever

• Resentment creeps in after saying yes (again)

That’s not failure. That’s awareness. It’s your system learning a new pattern—one where safety isn’t found in pleasing, but in presence. Where belonging isn’t earned through performance, but by coming home to yourself.  Where you don’t have to rehearse what you’re going to say, or smile when you don’t mean it—because you belong to yourself now.

Letting go of your “good girl” doesn’t mean rejecting her. It means recognizing that the stories she believed no longer serve the woman you’re becoming.

And that’s when the grief begins.

This Is What Grief Looks Like (And It’s Okay)

Becoming someone new often means grieving who you used to be.

And grief? It’s messy, inconvenient, and real. I know it well—from divorce, to the loss of loved ones, to the painful letting go of old identities.

After my divorce in my late twenties, I was devastated—not just by the loss of the relationship, but by the loss of the version of me I thought I was supposed to be. The one who would stay married, raise kids, and live out the fairytale ending.

I remember sitting on the stairs of our home, sobbing—not just for what we wouldn’t have, but for who I thought I was supposed to be.

Grieving that version of myself took years. I had to sit with it. Feel it. Forgive her.

Because if you don’t? You stay stuck.

Stuck in the loop of doing what looks right instead of what feels right.

You Don’t Have to Hate Her to Choose Yourself

Our culture doesn’t make space for grief—especially the kind tied to identity shifts.

We’re told to push through. Stay positive. Distract ourselves.

But that grief doesn’t disappear. It shows up elsewhere:

• In the irritability with our environments

• In alchole or drugs consumption

• In physical illness

You don’t have to hate your past self to let her go.

You can bless and release her:

“Thank you for getting me here. I’ll take it from here.”

I once told my ex-husband, "We made the best choices we could with what we knew at the time."

That’s the kind of grace you deserve, too.

When you offer that grace, resistance softens.

She leaves, not in shame, but in peace.

A Tender Invitation

You’ve just taken a sacred, tender look at the roots of the “good girl” story—the reasons she formed, the quiet ache of releasing her, and the truth that you don’t have to reject your past to reclaim yourself.

If any part of this stirred something in you, I’d love to hear it.

What did your “good girl” help you survive—and what are you ready to claim instead?

Drop a comment below. I’ll be right there with you. 💜

If you're ready to keep exploring and go beyond the “good girl” story, I created something that might help. 5 Gentle Ways to Break Free from Autopilot is a free eBook to help you begin building a life where you don’t have to pretend. Download it today and take your next step—gently, honestly, and at your own pace.