“When we are brave enough to live the life of our dreams, we give others permission to do the same.” — Leslie Noble

“If all you do is follow the herd, you'll just be stepping in poop all day.” — Wayne Dyer

In my last post, I shared Wayne Dyer’s wisdom on herd mentality and how dimming your perspective can kill your soul. But here’s the truth: once you stop following the herd, you don’t just avoid the poop—you often step right into criticism. People don’t always understand when you choose differently, and sometimes their “care and concern” is really just another way of saying, “You’re not doing it our way.”

 Adoption, Career, Faith, and Business

I didn’t have one of my children the way some people did. I adopted internationally, and I adopted a child of color. I was surprised at the amount of criticism I got for that choice. People wrapped their words in “concern,” but underneath was judgment.

The same happened with my career. My dad wanted me to take over his business, my mom wanted me to go into education. I tried education, and while I admire teachers deeply, it didn’t fit me. I was fascinated by how people work, by patterns, by healing—and that path wasn’t aligned with what my family thought best.

And when I started questioning some of the religious beliefs I was raised under, my family didn’t like it. But I knew inside that following those beliefs made me feel weighted down, judged, and caged in. That’s why I talk about questioning the why: am I going with the herd, or am I choosing what makes me feel alive?

Later, when I started my own business, my mom freaked out (just a little). She had always lived her life one way, and she asked me, “You support yourself…what if it doesn’t work out?” My response was simple: “What if it does?” I knew I would regret not following my dream far more than the risk of failure. If it didn’t work, I could pivot. And it has ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’m having fun, creating my own stability, building my own dream, and shaping a platform to help others.

 The People‑Pleasing Trap

One of my biggest regrets is how long it took me to figure this out. My people‑pleasing showed up in ways I didn’t even notice—I didn’t want people to dislike me, think I was wrong, or judge me. I cared so much about how others viewed me.

The shift came when I realized I also had to care about how I viewed me. I hated that my kids sometimes got the mom who was in survival mode instead of really "living." When I started making changes, it made them nervous. I was trying new things—like an eight‑week ballet class. I even texted them a picture of me in leotards and tights.

Later that day, my son called: “Hey, Jenna (my daughter) and I want to have a Facetime with you tonight.” My mind raced through every worst‑case scenario. That night, they sat me down and said, “Um… we’ve been reading a lot about midlife crisis, and we wanted to talk with you about your decisions lately.”

I realized I was in the middle of an intervention. They loved me enough to worry, but I couldn’t help laughing. My son said, “Do you know how ridiculous it looks to have a mom wearing leotards and tights… who is an adult by the way?”

For the first time, I was starting to feel alive again. And while it scared them, it was also a turning point.

That night, I had a conversation with both of them. I told them how much I loved them, how they would always be important to me, but also how much weight I had carried growing up with a dad who struggled. I wanted to experience the gift I never got—happiness, joy, curiosity—and I wanted the same for them.

Sometimes we struggle to make those choices because we fear they’re selfish. But what I’ve learned is this: when you are at peace, fulfilled, and aligned, you show up better for everyone else—including yourself. Choosing joy isn’t selfish; it’s the most generous thing you can do, because it ripples outward.

Fast forward: now I’m in martial arts, having fun, and they don’t blink—well, except when I picked up a practice sword. My son said, “Please don’t chop off anything.” (I told him it wasn’t the real one—just a practice sword.)

 What I Learned

The point is this: I wanted my kids to experience a mom who showed joy, healing, and alignment. For years, I did what my parents thought was best. Now, there’s freedom in saying, “This is who I am. This is what I want.” And yes, I expect the blowback.

And here’s the deeper truth: when we are brave enough to live the life of our dreams, we give others permission to do the same. Courage is contagious. Your spark can ignite someone else’s.

 How I Deal With Criticism and Judgment

Here are some ways I’ve learned to handle the blowback when I don’t follow the herd:

1. Say thank you, then move on. “Thanks for giving me your thoughts—I’ll consider them.” It acknowledges without absorbing.

2. Ask: What feels lighter? If a choice feels heavy, it’s probably not aligned. If it feels lighter, it’s usually closer to truth.

3. Separate concern from control. Sometimes criticism is disguised as care. Ask yourself: is this about my well‑being, or about their comfort?

4. Anchor in your values. Write down what matters most to you—joy, integrity, curiosity—and let those guide your decisions.

5. Practice compassionate boundaries. You can love people and still say, “This is my choice.” Boundaries don’t mean rejection; they mean respect.

6. Reframe blowback as proof of growth. If people are uncomfortable, it often means you’re changing. Discomfort is a sign you’re breaking patterns.

7. Shift the focus inward. Instead of asking, “Do they approve?” ask, “Do I approve of how I’m living?”

8. Keep Your Mouth Shut.   You don't owe anyone an explanation-your allowed to privately choose what is best for you. Period. When we hunt for other's approval, we often won't find it.  But, when we learn to approve of ourselves, while others may not agree, they will respect us more. 

 Closing Reflection

Criticism will come when you step out of the herd. But the real question is: do you want to be liked for dimming yourself, or respected for living fully?

Reflective question: Where in your life are you letting fear of judgment keep you from joy—and what small step could you take today to reclaim your spark?