Hey there Reader,

This is the last email in May.

We're now coming to the end self-advocacy theme and throughout June, we'll be getting curious about beliefs and burnout prevention.

Judging by some of the conversations I've had recently, the timing feels rather appropriate.

And before you think I'm calling you out specifically, I planned this strategy months ago, so I'm not- I promise!

But the patterns that keep coming up our community are worth getting curious about, aren't they?

The themes we tend to come back to are often the ones we speak about least everywhere else.

There's probably a reason or two for that.

Today we're going to look at something that sits right in the middle of self-advocacy and beliefs.

The stories we tell ourselves about why we can't do things.

Where they come from.

And why they feel so painfully true even when, intellectually, we can see they're not.

In coaching we call these limiting core beliefs.

Beliefs you hold about yourself that, on the surface, are unkind.

Not particularly accurate either.

And yet they feel real.

Uncontrollable.

Invasive.

Intrusive.

Frustrating.

Debilitating, even.

Beliefs developed to keep you safe.

I know that last one might sound weird. Stay with me.

The system (your body, brain and nervous system) has one primary job.

Keeping you alive.

When you were little and exposed to situations, people, or messages that didn't feel safe, you learned to survive using whatever tactics you had available.

If you're neurodivergent, especially undiagnosed neurodivergent, you'll likely have received a significantly larger dose of corrective comments, judgement, ridicule, rejection, and the rest.

The classic example I come back to often is the "disruptive" or "difficult" child at school who was actually under-stimulated, over-stimulated, or quietly drowning in unmet needs.

They were having a hard time.

Not being hard work.

But somewhere along the line, the label stuck.

When you hear that kind of commentary often enough as a small person, you absorb it.

It becomes a working truth, because believing it keeps you safer than challenging it.

And then your beliefs start shaping your behaviours.

If somewhere deep down you've absorbed that you're difficult, or unlovable, or too much, you might start avoiding the situations where you risk being called those things again.

This is where it ties back to everything I've been banging on about all month.

You cannot advocate for needs you don't believe you're allowed to have.

You cannot hold boundaries around things you don't believe deserve protecting.

And if you're carrying beliefs that don't reflect how genuinely magnificent you are, self-advocacy becomes nearly impossible.

Worse — sustaining those beliefs costs energy.

Challenging them costs energy.

Navigating the extra emotional admin they create costs energy.

And running all of that in the background, day after day, drains your processing capacity in ways that put you at significantly higher risk of burnout.

That's how it all connects.

Self-advocacy, beliefs, burnout.

Three threads of the same rope.

So as we wave May goodbye, I want to leave you with a gentle invitation rather than a task.

Get curious about the stories you're telling yourself.

Not to fix them.

Not to fight them.

Just to notice them.

Do they align with the direction you actually want to be heading in?

And if exploring that feels like too much right now — what might be holding you back from looking?

What are you afraid it might surface?

Sometimes the question underneath the question is the one worth sitting with.

I'll be back on Friday with some practical tips and an exciting announcement!

And for now, just curiosity.

That's enough.

Best and brightest love.

Beth x

P.S. If this lands and you'd like to explore it alongside other people doing the same gentle work, the Curious Minds Collective is where we have these conversations daily.