The moment you know

I want to talk about a moment we don’t acknowledge enough.

Not the big turning point. Not the dramatic “I quit” announcement or the shiny new beginning.
I mean the moment before all of that.
The quiet flicker. The inconvenient little knowing. The whisper that says, very softly:

“This isn’t quite it anymore.”

It rarely arrives with fanfare. There’s no lightning bolt, no big aha moment, no inspirational soundtrack swelling in the background.
It’s smaller than that. Almost ignorable, if ignoring is something you’re good at – and most women I know are experts.

For some women, it shows up as the Sunday Scaries that creep in earlier and earlier each week.
For others, it’s the fact you sigh before you open your laptop, even on days with nothing particularly awful in them.
Or maybe it’s when someone asks, “How’s work going?” and you answer “Yeah, good” with a voice that doesn’t sound like yours anymore.

For me, it began long before I admitted anything to myself.
A tension behind my ribs. A heaviness in meetings that used to energise me. A subtle disconnect between who I was at work and who I actually am.
But I kept going, because that’s what we do. We keep going.

Misalignment doesn’t always arrive as a crisis.
It often arrives as a whisper.
And women override whispers every single day.

We’ve been conditioned to be grateful.
To be capable.
To be easygoing, agreeable, reasonable.
We get praised for coping, and so we cope.
We get rewarded for holding it all together, and so we glue ourselves back together again and again.

But underneath all that coping, the whisper keeps nudging.

At first it’s barely noticeable. Then it grows. Still quiet, but insistent enough that you start feeling it more than hearing it.

And then, often on a totally ordinary afternoon when you’re stirring pasta or sitting in a meeting or watching your child play, you catch yourself thinking:

“Oh. This doesn’t fit anymore.”

That’s the moment. Not loud, not dramatic, not catastrophic. Just painfully, beautifully honest.

After that, something shifts.
You can’t un-know what you’ve just admitted to yourself. You can’t slide neatly back into the old version of you. Your body knows it. Your brain knows it. Even if the rest of your life takes a little longer to catch up.

This is the moment OffScript was built for.

Women don’t usually arrive at coaching in pieces.
They arrive… off.
Slightly misaligned.
Slightly disconnected from themselves.
Slightly aware that the story they’ve been performing isn’t the one they want to keep living.

It’s not chaos. It’s not crisis. It’s the beginning. And it’s tender. And brave. And so, so human.

I see this moment all the time now, in clients, in friends, in strangers who DM me saying, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I can’t keep going like this.”

And I always want to say:
You’re not broken.
You’re not ungrateful.
You’re not being dramatic.
You’re waking up.

That whisper you’ve been hearing?
It’s not going anywhere.
And honestly, it’s not meant to.

So here’s a little question for you, one that doesn’t need a perfect answer:

What’s the small truth you’ve been whispering to yourself lately?
And what happens if you stop shushing it?

Listen carefully.
It’s usually the beginning of something real.