the moment someone stops waiting

There’s a moment that happens just before someone finally moves forward, and it rarely announces itself. Most of the time it looks perfectly reasonable from the outside: more thinking, more weighing things up, more waiting for certainty and it’s usually described as “I just need a bit more clarity”. However, what’s really happening in that moment has far less to do with clarity than we think, and far more to do with permission.

I was reminded of this recently while flying over to stay with my parents.

The plane had landed, and as is often the case, it took a while for the bridge to connect to the front of the aircraft; the one that keeps everyone dry as the good old Irish weather does what it does best. Because the bridge could only connect at the front, there was just one exit, and people began leaving the plane in a slow, steady stream.

For those whose bags were in the overhead lockers directly above them, it was simple enough. For others (myself included) it meant needing to move backwards against the flow of people to retrieve our bags. There were about five of us in that position, all women.

When there was a brief pause in the line of people exiting, one woman stepped into the aisle so she could reach her bag and then join the flow towards the exit. At that exact moment, the man who had created the gap while collecting his own bag started moving forward again.

It was a real David and Goliath moment. She was petite, he was tall and broad. And he was moving forward without registering what she was trying to do.

What happened next took less than a second.

Without hesitation, the woman raised her hand in a clear stop gesture and said, calmly and firmly, “Just one moment. Wait just one moment while I get my bag.” She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t apologise. She didn’t explain herself. She didn’t ask. She simply told him to wait… and he did. Her bag was on the other side of the aisle. It took seconds. And then she moved on.

My immediate reaction was shock. I’m British. We’re taught, quietly, subtly, yet thoroughly, that politeness reigns, even when it costs us, that keeping the peace matters more than taking up space, and that respect often means putting everyone else before ourselves. However, in the flicker of a heartbeat, my shock turned into admiration. What I had just witnessed was self-permission in action. It was a small act. And yet it had a huge impact on me.

What struck me most wasn’t what she did, it was how naturally she did it. There was no build-up. No visible inner debate. No scanning around for approval. Her body moved first, her voice followed, and the moment passed without drama. That’s what made it so powerful. It was self-trust as instinct.

And I realised how rarely we allow ourselves that same immediacy. So many of us pause at the exact point where we could act. We second-guess our timing. We worry about being inconvenient. We soften our needs before anyone has even pushed back. In those moments, we often tell ourselves we’re being thoughtful or considerate when, in truth, we’re hesitating to take up space.

That hesitation doesn’t usually come from fear in the obvious sense, it comes from conditioning. It comes from years of learning that being “easy”, “polite”, or “low-maintenance” is safer than being clear. And from absorbing the idea that asserting ourselves risks rejection, judgement, or discomfort even when the cost of staying small is far greater.

What I witnessed on that plane was the opposite of that conditioning. It was self-permission lived in real time. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. That woman didn’t dominate the space. She didn’t create conflict. She didn’t make herself bigger than anyone else. She simply didn’t make herself smaller. And that’s the kind of self-love we don’t talk about enough.

We often associate self-love with kindness, patience, and compassion, and those things matter. However, there’s another side to self-love that’s just as essential, and far less celebrated. It’s the side that chooses clarity over comfort. The side that honours your needs without apology. The side that doesn’t wait for permission to exist fully. This kind of self-love doesn’t shout, dominate or demand attention. Yet, it does require courage because it asks you to trust yourself in the moment, rather than defer to habit, politeness, or fear of disruption.

For many people, this is where change actually begins. Not with a grand declaration or a dramatic leap, rather with a small, embodied decision to stop overriding yourself. To pause the automatic “I’ll wait” or “it’s fine” or “I don’t want to cause a fuss” and choose differently. Whilst those moments may look insignificant from the outside, internally they’re seismic. They’re the moments where self-leadership replaces self-doubt, and where your life quietly starts to shift direction.

Self-love isn’t always gentle. Sometimes it’s decisive. Sometimes it’s embodied. Sometimes it’s the quiet courage to say, “Just one moment”, and mean it. Most of us don’t need more clarity, another sign, or another nudge from the Universe. We already know what we want to do. What we’re waiting for is permission… permission from ourselves, permission to move, to grow, to take up space. The question isn’t whether you’re ready. The question is where you’re still hesitating and what would change if you stopped.

If this has landed somewhere deep, and you know you’re done circling the edges of your own life, my 1-1 support and healing sessions are a space where this kind of self-leadership can be strengthened and embodied. This is about supporting you as you stand fully behind the choices you’re ready to make. You can explore working with me here. You already know where you’re holding back. You already know what you’re ready for.

Remember: sometimes, love looks like standing still, lifting your hand, and saying, “Just one moment”. And meaning it.