You’re Allowed to Change Your Mind About What You Want

The Myth of Being “Stuck”

As a Taurus, people love to act like I’m nailed to the floor. Immovable. Stubborn. Resistant to change. Babe, I get it. I’m ruled by Venus, I love comfort, I love stability, and don’t even get me started on my borderline romantic attachment to bamboo sheets. But here’s the thing that surprises people: I have made more changes in my life than most people make in a decade. I’ve moved cities. I’ve moved countries. I’ve left marriages, changed careers, dyed my hair every shade under the sun, swapped aesthetics like I’m changing outfits in a montage. And you know what? I regret none of it.

Living a soft life in Brisbane now, surrounded by dark green interiors, silk robes, and bubbly prosecco, people think I’ve always been like this. That this version of my life just gently bloomed into being like a Pinterest board come true. Yeah, nah. This life is the result of relentless change. The good kind. The kind that hurts while it’s happening but feels like a warm bath once you’re through it. Change is why I get to be the person I am now. It’s not some random chaos. It’s evolution. It’s choosing to grow, again and again, even when people tell you you’re “too much” or “too fickle.”

I remember having a full-scale meltdown of a conversation with my ex-husband before we got married. I had dared suggest we push the wedding back a year. Why? Because I was quietly starting to doubt everything. His temper. His constant need for control. His way of making me feel like I was always doing something wrong. I didn’t say all that, of course. I made it about money. About wanting to sort out my ILR first. About being practical. And in return? He punched a wall. He screamed at me. He threw things. Because I changed my mind. Because I dared to listen to the quiet voice inside me that said, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

The Lie That Flexibility = Weakness

He always told me I was inflexible. That I was stubborn. That I was impossible to deal with. Which is honestly wild considering I’m one of the most open-to-change people I know. I may be steady and take my time deciding (classic Taurus energy, darling), but once I sense something no longer fits, I don’t cling for the sake of it. I move. I pivot. I grow.

Changing your mind is not a weakness. It is not a moral failing. It is a skill. It means you’re alive. It means you’re learning. It means you’re brave enough to say, “Actually, this thing I wanted? It doesn’t fit anymore.” Whether it’s your job, your partner, your postcode, or your dinner order.

We live in a culture that praises certainty. That tells us we must have five-year plans and #couplegoals and a consistent aesthetic. But what if you’re a human and not a brand? What if you’re allowed to fall in love with one life, only to realise that another one suits you better? I have pivoted more times than a Real Housewife in a reunion episode, and each time, it brought me closer to myself. Growth doesn’t come from staying the same. It comes from allowing the uncomfortable shift.

The Season of Softness

Softness, for me, has become the reward for all those hard decisions. I didn’t arrive in Brisbane and suddenly become peaceful. I earned this. Through the chaos of moving, the grief of breakups, the tears cried in bad lighting in unfamiliar bathrooms. Through standing in rooms I no longer wanted to be in and saying, “I’m done here.”

My soft life isn’t about beige and minimalism, because ew. It’s about permission. Permission to slow down. Permission to want different things than I did a year ago. It’s about knowing that the girl who once loved a loud London nightlife can also fall in love with early nights and gentle mornings. That the woman who thought she wanted marriage at twenty-one can also decide she wants space and freedom at forty-two. Nothing was wasted. It was all part of getting here.

We forget that plants grow by pushing through soil. That trees bend with the wind or risk breaking. Nature is flexible. Nature is always changing. And yet we act like being human means picking a single path and sticking to it out of spite. Nah. Be like a houseplant. Stretch towards the sun when it moves. Repot yourself when your roots need more room. Drop a few leaves if they’re no longer serving you.

But What If People Judge Me?

Spoiler: they will. People hate change. Especially in others. Because it threatens their idea of stability. You choosing to grow makes them question their own stuckness. But honestly? That’s not your problem. Let them clutch their pearls while you pack your metaphorical suitcase and head off to the next version of yourself.

I’ve been called inconsistent, impulsive, too emotional. But I’ve also been called brave, inspiring, and grounded. (Yes, all at once. Welcome to the full spectrum of womanhood.) People will project all kinds of things onto your choices. Let them. Your job is not to make your life digestible to others. Your job is to build a life that fits you. Even if that means starting over. Again. And again. And again.

Changing your mind is a sign that you are paying attention. To yourself. To your needs. To what feels good and what doesn’t. It means you are alive and learning. If you’re growing, you’re going to outgrow things. That’s not drama. That’s progress. Stop waiting for permission to pivot. No one else is living your life but you.

A Love Letter to the Pivot Queens

To the girl who left her stable job because her soul was dying. To the mum who moved her family to a new town just for the hope of peace. To the divorcee who finally said, “I can’t do this anymore.” To the woman who decided to change her whole damn wardrobe because the old clothes reminded her of someone she no longer is. This is your reminder that you are allowed to change your mind. You are not inconsistent. You are becoming.

Every chapter you close is a step closer to the life that fits. Every time you let go of a dream that no longer lights you up, you make space for one that will. I look around my flat now and I see the result of a hundred brave decisions. I see the girl who finally let herself have nice things. I see the woman who gave up the illusion of stability for the reality of joy. I see the Taurus who isn’t scared of change. She just wants to make sure the change is worth it.

So go on. Say no to the thing you said yes to. Swap your order. Cancel the plan. Leave the town. Change the hairstyle. End the relationship. Start again. And again. And again. That’s not failure. That’s life. That’s freedom.

And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

You Are Not Entitled to an Answer – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In this episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why you are not entitled to an answer. Specifically, we're talking about the strange little corner of modern dating where a few days of app chat somehow becomes an emotional contract, and suddenly a man you've never met believes your silence requires a formal explanation, a debrief, and possibly a follow-up meeting with management.I have two stories for you. One man who talked almost exclusively about himself, ignored the fact that I was sick, and then followed up a week later asking whether I'd reconsidered his "request for clarification". And another who became offended because I didn't respond to his selfie within two hours while I was lying in a dark room with a migraine. Sir. Please be serious.Because here's the thing. Before you've met someone, you do not owe them unlimited access to your time, attention, reassurance, or emotional labour. You don't have to justify why the vibes changed. You don't need a reason they'll consider reasonable. You are allowed to disengage because something felt off, because you changed your mind, because you met someone else, or because you're in your luteal phase and frankly the entire world can wait.Today we're talking about the difference between ghosting and simply disengaging, why demanding closure can become a boundary violation, the exhausting expectation that women should manage men's feelings for them, and why you do not need to JADE, justify, argue, defend, or explain, when you've already decided you're done. Let's get into it.Key Takeaways:A few days of chatting does not create a debt. Matching on an app, exchanging messages, or talking on the phone does not give someone a claim on your attention. Until you've actually built a connection, you are allowed to walk away without submitting supporting documentation.Closure is not something another person can demand from you. Asking once is one thing. Continuing to push after someone has clearly disengaged is not persistence or emotional maturity. It's refusing to accept the answer you've already been given.You do not need to JADE. You don't have to justify, argue, defend, or explain why you're no longer interested. The reason doesn't have to be good enough for him. It just has to be yours.Pre-date silence and post-date silence are not the same thing. If you've never met, disengaging is part of app dating. Once you've shared an actual date or developed a genuine connection, a simple goodbye becomes basic courtesy. Nobody needs a dissertation, but acknowledging another human being matters.Sometimes they don't miss you. They miss the audience. Someone can seem interested while actually being interested in having your attention. Real connection requires curiosity about you. If the only time they become deeply engaged is when you're leaving, pay attention to that.For more visit ⁠BryJaimea.com⁠ or follow over on IG ⁠@BryJaimea

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