by Golden Age Lux

NOTE: This piece is dedicated to my Aunt Lois who was recently given an infinite amount of permission slips to get through some personal trauma she has dealt with over the years. All collections from this post will go to her.

Remember those little slips of paper from school? A scribbled note from a parent or guardian, granting you access to a field trip, an excused absence, or a chance to skip gym class. They were small but powerful—a tangible "yes" that unlocked something you couldn’t access without approval. As adults, we don’t carry permission slips anymore, but we still wait for them. Only now, the approval we seek isn’t from a teacher or a parent—it’s from ourselves. And too often, we withhold it.

Permission to Be Successful

Success feels like a gated community sometimes, doesn’t it? We peer through the bars, convinced it’s for "other people"—the ones who have it all figured out, who don’t stumble, who were born with a silver spoon or a perfect plan. But success isn’t a birthright or a reward for perfection. It’s a garden you cultivate, and the first seed is permission. You have to tell yourself, "I’m allowed to want this. I’m allowed to chase it. I’m allowed to fail along the way and still keep going."

We sabotage ourselves with invisible rules: "I can’t succeed until I’m thinner, smarter, richer, older, younger…" The list is endless because it’s a stall tactic. Signing that permission slip means stepping into the arena, risking the fall, and trusting that the pursuit itself makes you worthy. Success isn’t about the finish line—it’s about the courage to start.

Permission to Love Yourself

Self-love sounds like a buzzword plastered on motivational posters, but it’s harder than it looks. We’re experts at cataloging our flaws—every misstep, every stretch mark, every time we said the wrong thing. We treat ourselves like a project that’s never quite finished, withholding love until we hit some imaginary benchmark of "enough."

What if you wrote yourself a permission slip that says, "I’m allowed to love myself right now, as I am"? Not the version of you five pounds lighter or ten years younger or with a fatter bank account—just you, today, with your messy hair and your messy heart. Loving yourself isn’t arrogance—it’s an act of rebellion against a world that profits from your self-doubt. It’s a quiet revolution that starts with a single signature.

Permission to Forgive Yourself

Here’s the hardest one: forgiveness. We’re brutal with ourselves, replaying old mistakes like a highlight reel of shame. That thing you said. That chance you didn’t take. That time you let someone down—or let yourself down. We carry guilt like a badge of honor, as if punishing ourselves keeps us "good." But what if you gave yourself permission to let it go?

Forgiveness isn’t erasure—it’s not pretending the mistake never happened. It’s deciding that your past doesn’t get to define your worth. It’s writing a permission slip that says, "I’m allowed to be human. I’m allowed to learn. I’m allowed to move on." The weight of self-forgiveness is lighter than the burden of self-blame, and it frees up space for the greatest version of you to step forward.

Signing the Slip

So, picture this: You’re sitting at a desk, pen in hand, staring at a blank permission slip. It’s yours to fill out. What do you write? "I, [your name], give myself permission to be unapologetically me. To succeed on my terms. To love myself without conditions. To forgive myself and start fresh." No one else can sign it for you—not your partner, not your therapist, not your best friend. This is your yes.

The greatest version of you isn’t some distant, polished ideal. It's you that emerges when you stop waiting for approval and start granting it yourself. It's you that dares to dream, dares to rest, dares to heal. So grab the pen. Sign the slip. The field trip of your life is waiting.