Stepping into a new version of yourself is a tricky thing.
Nobody tells you how to do it.
And sometimes, it’s hard to know if you’re doing it right.
Hiding Out
I’ve been swimming in a sea of self-doubt. Ironic as it is, having just posted about being an Unapologetic Woman. There’s a level of shame attached to backstepping in this industry. Of course, the only shame that truly exists is the shame you allow. And I take full responsibility for what I’ve been allowing lately.
Here are some of the thought loops I’ve been entertaining:
How will they perceive me if I share this struggle?
Am I polished enough?
Will the powers that be approve?
Will I get canceled if they know who I am?
If I dress like myself, will they take me seriously?
If I’m still doing the work and not already at the finish line, will they trust me to lead them?
Moving into leadership, entrepreneurship, can sometimes feel like a battleship. An old identity launching cannons, trying to sink the new one. Before we’ve even got our sea legs.
Butting up against the brick wall of what was - the patterns and belief systems that held us safe for so long. That cradled our tender identities like an overprotective mother - is not for the faint of heart.
Identity upgrades require a shedding of skins that no longer fit the person we are becoming. Leaving us open and exposed to the elements. And bringing our blindspots and insecurities to the surface. As if to test our resolve.
How bad do you want this?
But how sure are you?
Are you willing to look like a fool?
Last chance to play it safe! I’d be careful if I were you.
But who is that voice? It’s not me. It’s only true if I allow it to be. It’s only true if I allow it to be. It’s only true if I allow it to be.
I do not allow it to be.
This is the point where most people turn back. Because the hug of what we know is more enticing than the nakedness of looking like a fool. It’s the gap nobody talks about. The space between no longer and not yet. A holy terrifying wilderness that refuses to be skipped. In its blessed necessariness.
For in that space, there must be a stripping of “binding agents” and a reclaimation of energy from any socket that does not feed.
These things are hard to look at. It’s why many of us don’t. It involves saying “No” to people we love. Unplugging from friend groups that make us question ourselves. Making different decisions and letting people judge us for them. Letting go of things we thought would hold us safe forever.
This is this point I call “The Sacred Pivot.” One foot solid on the court. The other scanning for the play that could change the entire arc of the game. It is the point of no return, where we must face what we must face. In order to contribute what we were put here to contribute.
Becoming a Champion means accepting and embracing the necessity of contrast as an integral part of the journey. Darkness and light are both key players in this game. Denying one cancels out the other.
How would we know of the stars without the navy of night?
I think it’s easy to get so hellbent on the successes, the achievements, the perfect scroll-stoppers. That we miss the point altogether. “The Sacred Pivot” point. Because it’s never the finish line we’re after. It’s who we become along the way.
They say necessity is the mother of invention.
Being in this uncomfortable container the last six months—wrestling with my own identity shift, shedding layers I didn’t know I was still holding onto—gave rise to something I didn’t expect. A solution I needed. A framework I could trust. Something fierce, practical, and human.
Because I knew that if I was navigating this wilderness, others were too.
That’s where The Pivot Code™ was born.
It’s a transformational experience for people standing right at the precipice of an old life, ready to step into a new one. For those brave enough to hold the tension of the in-between, and ready to move forward with integrity.
If you’re looking for support in real-time, I’ve opened up a few private coaching spots, too.
You can check out both on my new website: heyrosietalks.com
I’d be honored to walk beside you, friend.
So much love,
Rosie
I’ll leave you with a few love notes: