Giving yourself permission to change your mind
For many women juggling careers, families and the relentless scroll of modern life, admitting that yesterday's decision no longer fits feels like a personal betrayal. You tied your identity to that path, the promotion you chased, the boundary you set, the relationship you chose, so pivoting feels like wasted years rather than wisdom. In Australia, where the tall poppy still gets clipped for standing too tall, owning a change of heart can feel even riskier, as though revising your view is the same as admitting you were wrong all along.
The truth is quieter and kinder. Changing your mind is not a sign of weakness or inconsistency; it is a sign that you are paying attention. New information arrives, your nervous system settles, your priorities shift, and the view from Bondi at six in the morning looks different when the kids finally leave home. Permission to revise is not a free pass to wobble. It is a disciplined practice of staying loyal to the version of yourself you are still becoming.
Why a change of heart feels risky
Most of us were taught early that consistency equals character. Stick to your word, follow through, don't be a quitter. For high-performing women in particular, the pressure compounds: hold the senior role, run the side hustle, keep the household humming. Backing away from any of it can feel like letting down the team at the Sydney office, the book club in Melbourne, or the family group chat that already has opinions.
Add to that the Australian reluctance to make a fuss. Many women here were raised on a steady diet of don't complain, just crack on. So when the inner voice starts asking whether the current path still fits, it often gets quietened with another coffee, another long run along the Yarra, another week of pushing through. The discomfort is mistaken for dedication, when really it is information.
The inner permission slip
Permission does not arrive from a manager, a partner or a glossy magazine. It is granted internally, often in small private moments: a tear in the car, a long walk through the Royal Botanic Garden, a quiet realisation during Sunday brunch that the story you keep telling no longer sounds like yours. Naming what is true takes courage, especially when the truth contradicts a public position.
Try writing yourself a short permission slip, literally. "I give myself permission to revise this belief, role or plan when the evidence or my values shift." Read it back. Notice the resistance. That resistance is the muscle you are training, the same muscle that will let you say no to the committee that drains you, or yes to the move to Byron Bay you have been daydreaming about.
Signals that your thinking wants to shift
There are common markers that a rethink is brewing. You feel physically heavy when the topic comes up. You rehearse the same justification over and over, like a politician on Insiders defending a policy you no longer believe in. You avoid certain conversations. You find yourself scrolling job ads in Perth while on the M1 commute. Your body often knows before your mind admits it.
Pay attention to the small defections from your own narrative. You start saying things like "I used to believe…" without finishing the thought. You catch yourself rolling your eyes at advice you once gave. You feel a flash of envy when a friend quits a corporate job to retrain as a physio. None of these are signs you have failed. They are signs you are listening.
From stubborn to supple thinking
Holding a position and holding it open are not the same thing, and confusing the two keeps many capable women stuck. Strength is not the absence of revision; it is the willingness to revise without losing your footing. A supple mind is not a wishy-washy mind. It is a trained mind, the kind that knows the difference between a temporary mood and a genuine values revision.
| Holding firm out of habit | Holding your position with intention |
|---|---|
| Defends yesterday's view no matter the cost | Updates the view when reality changes |
| Confuses consistency with integrity | Treats integrity as honest updating |
| Burns energy managing internal conflict | Redirects energy toward what matters now |
| Avoids conversations that might expose doubt | Welcomes feedback as free data |
| Costs relationships, sleep, momentum | Builds trust through authentic change |
This is the kind of thinking that lets you sit in a meeting in Brisbane and say, calmly, "I have changed my mind on this, and here is why." It is also the kind that lets you walk away from a long-held goal without shame.
Anchoring the new ground with discipline
Once you have allowed the change, the next test is staying with it. New positions wobble, especially when the old crowd pushes back. The discipline is to keep showing up to the new view, to defend it with the same energy you once spent defending the old one. Notice when you slip back into the familiar script, then gently correct course. Keep a note on your phone of the reasons you changed. Read it on the hard days, the arvos when the doubt creeps back and the messages from concerned relatives pile up.
Changing your mind is one of the most grown-up things a human can do. It requires honesty, nerve and a generous serving of self-respect. With the right support, you can move from second-guessing your reversals to celebrating them as evidence of a life actually being lived, not just endured.
Ready to work with someone who gets it? Book a complimentary discovery call with Lynda and start the conversation your future self will thank you for.
