She.
She was avoiding herself.
Not intentionally, not at first. But over time, it became a habit—a quiet, persistent evasion. She didn’t want to have the conversation.
Not yet.
Not ever, if she could help it.
Because she knew it would be hard. She knew it would bring up questions she didn’t have answers to, discomfort she wasn’t ready to sit with, and truths she wasn’t sure she could face. So, she avoided. She dodged. She convinced herself that time would smooth things over, that the tension would dissolve on its own.
But deep down, she knew better.
This wasn’t just about avoiding a person or a problem. This was about avoiding herself. The version of herself she didn’t want to confront. The one who had been carrying this weight for years—decades, even. The one who had built a life so full of distractions that there was no room left for the one conversation that mattered most.
The relationship was complicated. It always had been. People had opinions—oh, so many opinions. They told her what she should do, how she should feel, who she should be. But their advice didn’t fit. It wasn’t hers to carry. And yet, their voices lingered, adding to the noise, making the mountain in her mind feel even bigger.
And what a mountain it was.
It loomed over her, casting shadows on her decisions, her confidence, her sense of self. It felt insurmountable.
Impossible.
So, she stayed at the base, paralyzed by fear, hoping the mountain would somehow shrink on its own.
But it didn’t.
Instead, the avoidance grew heavier. It seeped into her work, her relationships, and her sense of fulfilment. On the outside, she was thriving—impressive, even. But inside? She felt muted. Hollow. Like she was running on autopilot, going through the motions but never truly arriving.
“Doesn’t everyone feel this way?” she’d say, brushing off her doubts.
But the truth was, she didn’t believe that. Not really. She knew this wasn’t about “everyone.” This was about her. About the relationship she’d been avoiding—with herself.
She had built a life of busyness, of achievements, of outward success. But it was all a distraction. A way to keep the real work at arm’s length. Because facing herself meant facing the discomfort, it meant asking the hard questions: Who am I? What do I really want? And why have I been so afraid to find out?
It meant climbing the mountain.
And that terrified her.
But one day, something shifted.
She met someone—a woman who saw through the facade. Who asked the question she’d been avoiding: “Is this really working for you?”
The answer came quickly, almost by suprise: “No.”
And in that moment, she knew. She couldn’t keep avoiding. She couldn’t keep pretending. The mountain wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was she—not really—until she faced it.
So, she made a choice.
A decision to stop running. To stop hiding. To stop letting fear dictate her life.
She decided to face the relationship she’d been avoiding for so long.
The one with herself.
Because she realised something: the mountain wasn’t the enemy. It was the path. The way forward. The key to the next level—not just in her career or her relationships, but in her sense of self.
And while she didn’t have all the answers, she knew one thing for sure:
It was time to climb.
This is for every woman in leadership who’s ever felt the weight of avoidance. Who’s ever built a life so full that there’s no room left for the one conversation that matters most.
The one with yourself.
It’s not easy. It’s not comfortable. But it’s necessary. Because you can’t lead others fully until you’ve faced yourself fully.
So, take a deep breath. Look at the mountain. And take the first step.
She’s got this.
You’ve got this.
If you need support to have the difficult conversation, that can take you to your next elevation book in your coaching discovery call here.
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