Audacity over Permission

Episode 36 – Audacity
Stop Waiting to Be Chosen

Many of us weren’t taught to trust our inner authority—we were taught to wait for it to be assigned.
Audacity is the moment you stop waiting for the call and start responding to yourself.

What Audacity Actually Is (and Isn’t)

Audacity isn’t arrogance.
It isn’t bravado.
It isn’t believing you’re exceptional, fearless, or unquestionably right.

Audacity is the willingness to act, speak, or create without waiting for permission, certainty, or approval—especially if you were raised to believe you needed all three first.

For a long time, I thought my silence was humility. I told myself I was being respectful. Appropriate. Patient.
But underneath that story was something else entirely: I had learned that authority only came from the outside.

When Authority Is Assigned, Not Lived

In the church, authority is formalized. You don’t speak because you have insight.
You speak because you’ve been called.

Once you’re assigned a role, you’re allowed revelation—for that role, and for the people you preside over.
On some level, this makes sense. Organizations need structure. Not everyone can steer the ship at once.

Structure isn’t the problem.

The problem is what happens when authority becomes the only place meaning, insight, and initiative are allowed to come from.

When the unspoken rule becomes:
If you don’t have a title, you don’t have a voice.

That logic seeps in quietly.
It shows up as questions you don’t even realize you’re asking:

• Is this my place?

• Has anyone asked me to do this?

• Do I have the right role to be thinking this way?

If the answer is no, you stay quiet—even when something inside you is very much alive.

How This Silences Creativity

I noticed this pattern most clearly in my creative life.
It’s why this podcast lived in my head for years before it ever existed.

I told myself:

• I’m not an artist yet.

• I don’t have the credentials.

• I shouldn’t teach or share until I’m more “official.”

But when we silence ourselves like this, the world misses out—not on perfection, but on perspective.
There is someone who needs the exact work you’re holding back.

I once heard the phrase: “All you need is the audacity of a mediocre white man.”
It’s not really about men or mediocrity. It’s about permission.

Some people are raised inside systems that assume their voice belongs in the room.
The rest of us are taught to earn our right to speak.

The Audacity of Authenticity

There’s a story I’ve never forgotten about two women in the same neighborhood.

One was a trained interior designer—talented, thoughtful, deeply skilled. She wanted to build a design business but felt uncomfortable being visible. She didn’t want to seem self-absorbed. She kept telling herself she’d “get to it someday.”

A few houses down, another woman did build a successful design brand.
She had no degree. Less experience. Frankly, less skill.

What did she have?

Audacity.

Not superiority. Not genius.
Just a willingness to show up without waiting.

As Brené Brown puts it:

“Think of it as the audacity of authenticity. Most of us have shame triggers around being perceived as self-indulgent or self-focused.”

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: people less skilled than you are already showing up—not because they’re better, but because they’re not waiting.

Choosing Yourself Without a Calling

The first time I shared my work publicly—my art, my voice—it didn’t feel brave.
It felt almost wrong.

Not unethical. Just… unauthorized.

No one had called me. No one had assigned me this role.
If I wanted to show up, I was going to have to choose myself.

That’s what audacity has looked like for me:

• “I’m allowed to speak from my experience.”

• “I’m allowed to create without permission.”

• “I’m allowed to listen to my inner life.”

Not because I’m exceptional—but because I’m human.

Waiting for It: The Aaron Burr Trap

In the musical Hamilton, Aaron Burr sings “Wait For It” with such calm restraint that it almost sounds like wisdom.

He tells us:

• I am inimitable.

• I am an original.

• I am not standing still—I am lying in wait.

Burr is convinced his waiting isn’t fear; it’s discernment.
That because he’s special, he must be careful about when he reveals himself.

But that belief—the need for the moment to be perfect—is exactly what paralyzes him.

Burr isn’t prioritizing honesty.
He’s prioritizing being impressive.

Hamilton, on the other hand, has nothing to protect.
No illusion of a better time coming.

He shows up from urgency, not exceptionality.
He speaks because something feels at stake.

Audacity isn’t about believing you’re special.
It’s about believing you don’t need to be.

Lived Experience Is Not a Credential—And That’s the Point

One of the most damaging beliefs we carry is that lived experience doesn’t count unless it’s credentialed.

But lived experience isn’t a diagnosis.
It’s not a prescription.
It’s not authority over others.

It’s a data point.
A perspective.
A story.

You don’t need permission to say:

• “This was my experience.”

• “This is what I learned.”

• “This is what I’m experimenting with.”

• “This is how I’m making meaning.”

You’re not claiming expertise—you’re participating in the conversation.

And it’s worth asking: Who benefits when only the officially qualified speak?

Historically, that rule has:

• Protected institutions

• Reinforced hierarchy

• Excluded women and marginalized people

• Rewarded confidence over depth

When Speaking Without Permission Is Ethical

Martin Luther King Jr. didn’t have authority the way we usually define it.

He wasn’t elected.
He wasn’t sanctioned by the systems he challenged.
He wasn’t invited to speak by those in power.

And yet his voice mattered because the people in authority could not—or would not—understand the lived experience he was naming.

Formal authority is often insulated.
It benefits from the status quo.
It lacks proximity to harm.

When injustice exists, waiting for permission is not neutral.
Sometimes the most ethical thing you can do is speak anyway—because permission is controlled by the very structures that benefit from your silence.

The Question Audacity Asks

What is the thing that’s calling you?
And do you have the audacity to go for it?

Audacity isn’t about being louder or more certain.
It’s about refusing to disappear while you wait to be chosen.

You don’t need to be special to show up.
You don’t need permission to tell the truth about what you’ve lived.

Audacity is simply the choice to participate—
to speak, to create, to be seen—
before you feel ready,
and without waiting for someone else to hand you the microphone.