The Luca Savazzi Podcast > Episode #11
The Luca Savazzi Podcast > Episode #11
Somewhere along the way, you may have learned that you were too much. Too unrealistic. Too weird, emotional, creative or risky. Or simply not practical enough. So you adapted.ou
You became who you thought you were supposed to be. You made sensible choices, met expectations and perhaps even built a life that looks successful from the outside. But inside, something still feels off.So y
You start asking questions you may have ignored for years:
What do I actually want? What lights me up? What part of myself have I been hiding?
In my conversation with entrepreneur and author Maggie Harlow, we explored why so many of us wait for approval before pursuing what we want, how our identities quietly begin making choices for us, and what it means to give ourselves permission without using it as an excuse to avoid responsibility.
The bigger question underneath all of this is simple:
How many of the choices you are making today are actually yours?
Maggie describes permission as a doorway that every one of us can open. Yet many of us behave as if we first need to qualify. We think we need more proof, another certification, somebody’s approval or a guarantee that other people will understand. Until then, we wait.
Maggie grew up in a family where permission was considered self-granted. If there was something she wanted to do or try, she was encouraged to decide for herself which direction to take.
That freedom did not automatically give her a clear plan. After studying oil painting, she joined the family business and spent years, in her words, floating through life like a raft in a river. She was married, had two children and was doing well professionally. She was happy, but she was not doing something that excited her each day.
At 35, she felt as if she woke up.
She decided it was time to stop floating and start paddling. She and her husband quit their jobs and started a business. Since then, she has written a book, returned to making art and continued choosing things she had never originally imagined doing.
Her story is a useful reminder that having permission does not mean knowing exactly where the journey will lead. It means accepting that the direction of your life is yours to choose.
As children, we tend to give ourselves the freedom to play, explore and enjoy things without needing to justify them. As adults, ideas about what is normal, responsible or expected begin to shape our behaviour.
Many of those ideas remain invisible. We do not experience them as beliefs that can be questioned. We experience them as facts.
A good wife irons her husband’s shirt.
A successful business owner must keep growing the company every year.
A generous person always says yes.
A responsible person never changes their mind.
Maggie shared a small moment that brought this into focus. One evening, while ironing a shirt for her husband, she suddenly realised that she never wanted to iron again. She offered him the iron. He declined and decided to take his shirts to the dry cleaner instead.
It sounds almost too ordinary to matter. But that is precisely why it matters.
The belief was not really about ironing. It was about the idea that being a good wife required her to perform a particular task. Once she questioned it, she discovered that two things could be true at the same time: she could be a good wife and choose not to iron.
This is where change often begins. Not with a dramatic resignation or a move to another country, but with noticing the small obligations you have never consciously agreed to.
The older we become, the more attached we can become to the identities we have built.
I am successful. I am athletic. I am kind. I am reliable. I am the person who keeps everything together.
Those identities can be meaningful, but they can also become restrictive. If being a successful business owner means you must earn more every year, you may keep pursuing growth long after it stops being what you want. If being generous means never disappointing anyone, you may continue giving away time and energy you no longer have.
The identity begins making choices on your behalf.
Maggie’s invitation is not to abandon identity altogether, but to hold it more flexibly. You are allowed to make a different choice without erasing everything you have been.
Of course, other people may not immediately welcome the new version of you. They were familiar with the role you played. They may feel disappointed, inconvenienced or confused when you stop playing it.
That discomfort does not automatically mean your decision is wrong.
Imagine you have volunteered at a soup kitchen every weekend for years, but you now want your weekends back. The people around you may praise you for being dependable and generous. Stepping away could therefore feel like more than changing your schedule. It could feel like betraying the person they believe you are.
If the manager tells you that your departure creates a problem, you still need to consider your real responsibilities. Did you make a specific commitment? Is there an agreement you need to honour? Would you like to help find a replacement?
Those are legitimate questions. But someone else’s disappointment does not, by itself, create an endless obligation.
Maggie makes a challenging point here. When we need other people to keep seeing us as kind, reliable or good, we may be trying to control how they feel about us. They are entitled to their reaction. We are responsible for our choices, agreements and behaviour, but not for manufacturing everybody else’s approval.
This distinction matters in families, friendships and workplaces too. Setting a boundary can change a familiar dynamic. Someone may dislike that change. Their feelings deserve respect, but they do not always deserve the final vote.
Giving yourself permission is often presented as a life-changing act: quit the job, leave the relationship, move across the world.
But small choices are where you learn that you have choices at all.
Maybe you no longer want to be the person who always cleans the coffee pot at work. Maybe someone else can walk the dog. Maybe you need to ask for help or pay someone to take over a task. Maybe you have invested in a conference, arrived exhausted and would get more from it after allowing yourself to take a nap.
Each moment gives you an opportunity to examine an apparent obligation and ask whether it is still true.
Psychologists working with self-determination theory describe autonomy as the experience of volition and willingness, when our actions feel self-endorsed rather than forced by pressure. That does not mean living without commitments or other people. It means being able to recognise yourself in the choices you make. (Self-Determination Theory)
Small permissions help you practise that recognition. They also make larger choices less intimidating because you have begun to trust your own judgement.
There is an important line here.
Giving yourself permission does not mean blowing people off, ignoring every obligation or calling any uncomfortable feeling a sign that something is wrong for you.
If you want to skip a workout, for example, you can ask what is actually driving the decision. Do you need rest, or are you avoiding something you still value? Is the choice aligned with how you want to care for yourself, or is permission becoming a convenient excuse?
Only you can answer that honestly.
Permission becomes useful when it helps your choices align with your values. It becomes indulgence when it is used to avoid responsibility without examining the consequences.
“There is inherent joy and value in being willing to try something new, fumble around and be bad at it.”
That idea mattered to me personally. On the morning of our conversation, I had booked a stand-up comedy course for beginners. I have acted for much of my life, but I had never done stand-up. I did not sign up because I had decided to become a stand-up comedian. I wanted to leave my comfort zone, meet people, make connections and discover how the experience might expand me.
As adults, we can become convinced that we should only spend time on things we are already good at or that make practical sense. But trying something simply because it lights you up has value too. You are allowed to be a beginner. You are even allowed to be terrible at something and enjoy it anyway.
Permission also changes how we make decisions.
Some people keep gathering information because they are waiting for a green light: perfect clarity, complete preparation or proof that nothing will go wrong.
But many decisions cannot offer that certainty. Once you choose one path, you never get to see the complete version of the life you would have lived after choosing the other. Calling something the “right decision” is often something we can only do afterwards.
Maggie’s approach is to make the best decision she can, then invest herself in making that decision work. Mistakes and failures are not evidence that she should never have chosen. They are part of how she learns.
Her memorable phrase for this is “flush the turd.” Learn the lesson from a mistake, but do not stand there staring at it or keep inviting everybody else to inspect it. At some point, let it go and become available for your next move.
Crude? Yes. Easy to remember? Absolutely.
If there is something you want, write it down. Then write down every belief that appears underneath it.
I cannot do this because people will think I am irresponsible.
It is too late for me.
I will disappoint my family.
If I change direction, everything I have done so far will have been wasted.
Now take one belief and ask: Is this really true?
Do not rush to replace it with a positive slogan. Examine it. Where did it come from? Does it reflect your own values, or your fear of somebody else’s reaction? What choice might become available if the belief loosened its grip?
Maggie points listeners towards Byron Katie’s practice, The Work, which uses four questions to examine a stressful belief. The official site provides free instructions and worksheets for doing this one belief at a time. (The Work)
You do not have to rebuild your life today. Start by noticing what has been making your choices for you.
The expectations. The role. The identity. The fear of being misunderstood.
Then give yourself permission to ask whether you still want to follow them.
Your answer may not change everything at once. But it may be the moment you stop floating and finally begin to paddle.
If this sparked something in you, follow The Luca Savazzi Podcast on YouTube for more conversations about courage, self-direction and creating a life that feels like yours.
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