The Loudest Voice in Your Head Is Often the One Scaring You the Most — And It’s Wrong

When I moved to the UK, I thought I was prepared.

I had sold everything, packed up my life in Australia, and was ready to launch a new business.

Then came the phone call — just one hour after I had landed.
The funding I was relying on was gone.

I remember sitting in the back of the taxi from the airport, after a 24-hour flight across the world, my son next to me, and feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under me.

The loudest voice in my head started speaking. And it wasn’t kind.

• “You’re stupid for even trying.”
• “You’ve ruined everything for your family.”
• “You don’t have the education, time, or resources to rebuild.”

That voice was relentless. And for a while, I believed it.

What I’ve Learned Since

Here’s the truth I’ve discovered in the years since that moment:

• That voice isn’t the truth. It’s fear, disguised as logic — your brain’s attempt to protect you from risk.
• Finances can collapse, education can feel lacking, but resourcefulness and grit are skills no one can take away.
• Every setback isn’t proof you’re failing. It’s proof you’re in motion.

The voice in your head will always choose safety, even if it means shaming you.
But safety doesn’t build the life you want.

Rewriting the Story

If you’re hearing that voice right now — telling you you’re not smart enough, not prepared enough, or not “educated” enough — I want you to know this: it’s wrong.

The real truth is this:
You are capable of resetting, rebuilding, and rewriting your story in ways your fear can’t imagine.

You can train your brain to do anything. And this is only the beginning.

Reflection for You

Think about it:

• What’s the loudest — and most untrue — thing your inner voice has ever told you?
• How has it shaped your choices, your confidence, or your direction?
• And most importantly, what new voice would you choose to believe instead?

Closing Thought:
That taxi ride felt like the end of everything.
But now I see it for what it was: the messy, terrifying, necessary beginning of something greater.

And if you’re reading this in the middle of your own version of that taxi ride — I promise, the voice that says you can’t is lying.