Argue for Your Limitations—and Sure Enough, They’re Yours

There’s a quote often attributed to Richard Bach that has been living in me lately:

“Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.”

I didn’t just understand this idea intellectually—I have lived it.

Over the past few years, I have walked through waves of fear, faced deep limiting beliefs, and crossed a threshold that at times felt impossible.

On the other side, I now feel a kind of spaciousness and gratitude that I didn’t know was available to me.

Looking back, it truly felt like a battle for my life.

Not my physical life—but the life that felt aligned, meaningful, and connected to my deeper needs to contribute and to live authentically.

And opposing that…was another life.

A life my inner protectors believed was safer. More secure. More predictable.

And so the inner battle began.

The Voices That Fight for Limitation

Those inner voices were loud. Convincing. Relentless.

They told me:

• What are you doing?

• This is stupid.

• You don’t have the skills.

• People who have trained twice as long as you aren’t even doing this.

• You’re going to fail—and everyone will see.

  
  

And underneath it all:

• You will be embarrassed.

• You will be exposed.

• You won’t survive that.

  
  

These voices weren’t trying to harm me.

They were trying to protect me.

They wanted safety. Certainty. Dignity.

They wanted the paved road.

And every time I stepped off that road, they tightened their grip.

The Quieter Voice

But there was another voice.

Much quieter.

Gentle, but steady.

It would say:

• Keep going.

• Don’t give up.

• Trust.

• Good things are unfolding.

  
  

Sometimes it was barely audible beneath the fear.

But it was always there.

And slowly, I began to listen.

Showing Up Anyway

There were moments that tested everything in me.

I taught classes where no one showed up.

I felt the sting of disappointment, the urge to quit, the voice that said:“See? Stop now while you still have some dignity.”

And yet…

I showed up again.

And again.

And again.

Each time I chose to stay, something inside me shifted.

Not because the fear disappeared—but because I stayed with myself through the fear.

That’s where something new was born.

Building Inner Trust

Every time I didn’t abandon myself, I built trust.

Every time I met my fear with compassion instead of retreat, my capacity expanded.

Those protective voices didn’t disappear overnight—but they softened.

They began to trust me.

To trust that:

• We can do hard things

• Fear doesn’t mean stop

• Discomfort doesn’t mean danger

  
  

This is what courage has come to mean for me:

"Courage is fear that has said its prayers"

The Turning Point

And this is where that quote comes alive:

“Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.”

I used to argue for my limitations.

I used to believe them.

Defend them.

Identify with them.

But something shifted.

Instead of fighting for my limitations…

I began gently, persistently, compassionately challenging them.

Not by rejecting those inner parts—but by saying:

“I hear you. I know you’re trying to protect me. And…we’re still going.”

Life Initiations

This path has not been easy.

It has asked everything of me.

In the past few years, I have walked through:

• The death of my father and godfather

• The grief and unraveling that followed

• A separation from my second husband

• Moving to a new place

• Building a new community from the ground up

  
  

There were moments of deep, primal fear—especially around abandonment.

And yet, through it all, I discovered something profound:

I can get through anything.

I walked people I loved home.

I stayed with myself in the darkest places.

And I found myself on the other side.

Expansion

Something has expanded in me.

My capacity to hold myself.

My capacity to hold others.

My willingness to step beyond comfort into growth.

And I understand more deeply now the truth in another quote often attributed to Henry Ford:

“Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t—you’re right.”

The Two Wolves

There’s an old parable about two wolves.

One represents fear, doubt, limitation.

The other represents courage, trust, expansion.

They are both within us.

And the question is:

Which one wins?

The answer:

The one you feed.

A Living Invitation

I’m not here to tell you this is easy.

This has been one of the most painful, stretching, humbling experiences of my life.

But I am here to tell you:

It is worth it.

The gratitude.

The spaciousness.

The sense of alignment.

The quiet knowing that you did not abandon yourself.

We are here to transform.

We are here to live more fully, more authentically.

This is part of the human journey—this “earth school.”

And if you are in the middle of your own inner battle…

I see you.

I understand.

And I’m here to walk beside you.

To remind you:

You don’t have to believe every voice in your head.

You can honor your fear—and still choose forward.

You can stop arguing for your limitations.

And begin living beyond them.

And together…

We can learn to feed the wolf that helps us grow.