Are You Arguing for Your Limitations?
For a screen-addicted millennial who has seen all of the internet, it’s not every day that a quote grabs my attention and forces me to pause. But the other day, one did:
“Argue for your limitations and keep them.”
It felt like a slap in the face.
How many times had I defended my choices with the confidence of a Supreme Court attorney—why drinking caffeine after noon guarantees a sleepless night, why financial success might turn me into a boring, capitalistic robot, why settling into a relationship might dim my spark—only to realize those stories weren’t truth, they were just walls I mistook for wisdom?
That’s the sneaky part of arguing for your limitations: you always win.
Maybe it’s because I was told I was “gifted” as a kid—shipped off once a week to another school to do cool things like dissect sharks and design blueprints of my dream house while my peers were learning their multiplication tables.
That stubborn independence (and maybe a sprinkle of delusion) is a big part of how I ended up with this “out of the matrix” lifestyle—and a book about it. But it also turned me into someone who often argues for her limitations.
And now that I see it in myself, I see it everywhere.
Are you stuck in a job, relationship, or lifestyle that leaves you drained and dissociated? Do you reach for books and podcasts that validate why you can’t change? Or do you let yourself dream a little—imagine that maybe, just maybe, things could work out for you? That miracles could happen? That the universe could deliver something better than what you have now?
Or are you still stubbornly arguing for your limitations?
“I’m too old to learn something new.”
“The job market is terrible, no one is hiring.”
“I can’t afford to travel.”
“I don’t have time to work out.”
“I’m too busy to maintain friendships.”
“I could never work for myself.”
Do you want to be right about those beliefs? Or can you find a shimmer of hope to hold onto…and maybe leave a little space for magic to surprise and delight you?
The truth is I never saw myself as someone who would fly first class. I thought it was a pointless luxury. But as I get older, flying feels harder on my body (and is it just me or are the damn seats getting smaller?). At the beginning of this year, I made a pretty presentation in Canva with everything I wanted to manifest in 2025, and one of those things was flying first class.
Well, here I am—writing this from the United Club Lounge, sipping an Americano, waiting for the breakfast buffet to switch to lunch.
Business class was only $150 more than the regular seat back to Managua. It came with luggage, meals, and a lounge pass—the upgrade practically paid for itself. Not only do I get a more comfortable flight, I shattered a limiting belief I didn’t even realize I was holding: that business class was only for snooty people with money to burn.
So now I’m asking myself:
What other limiting beliefs am I still clinging to?
What ceilings am I reinforcing with my own logic?
And can I trust that if I dream bigger, the universe will rise to meet me, surprising me in ways I can’t plan or predict?