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#170: Glin & Tonic - Learning to hold the life you say you want

by Glin Bayley
Sep 14, 2025
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The identity trap: why we contract into smallness when our vision expands.

 

Have you ever had a week that makes you re-evaluate everything about your life and work?

 

That’s what I’ve been navigating. These last two weeks have been a deep inward journey, slowly unravelling an identity trap I didn’t even know I was in.

 

It’s why you didn’t hear from me last week. I desperately wanted to write and share in real time, but I didn’t have the language or understanding to put it into words.


I still don’t, not fully. Some things are still too tender to share, but I’ll share what I can.

 

Last weekend a dear friend and I took ourselves out of the hubbub of daily life for an expansive weekend in nature. Booked into a beautiful glamping site, Paper Bark Camp, we were excited to connect and catch up.


Driving down to the Southern Highlands, two and a half hours south of Sydney, we both knew we needed more than a weekend of rest and recharge.

 

It’s been a huge year for us both, and our bodies were speaking loudly. I was chock-full of a cold, blowing my nose every five minutes, my body telling me to be still and allow more time to ā€˜be’. She was exhausted from relentless international travel and the pace of growth in her business. We both realised our bodies were fatigued and craving deep restoration.

 

As we checked in, the lady at reception told us our booking was actually for the following day. For a moment we wondered if we’d have to find somewhere else, but thankfully she quickly offered us a free upgrade. By pure synchronicity, we were placed in the very same tent we had stayed in five years earlier. Even more uncanny, the guest book at reception was already open on the exact page where we had written our message of thanks back then. To say we were a little spooked was an understatement!


On reflection, the weekend symbolised that sometimes life circles us back, not so we repeat the past, but so we can see how much we’ve expanded since then.

The weekend unfolded with personal reflection and coaching, holding space for each other as we shattered false beliefs and illusions about our lives and work that we hadn’t realised we were carrying.

 

The week before, I’d booked a business-class flight to the UK in December. It’s been over a year since I last saw family and friends, but the choice of travelling with ease and comfort triggered huge discomfort and guilt.


My mind compared the ticket price to the minimum-wage salary my mum earns and berated me for being indulgent and wasteful. I realised my nervous system hadn’t fully expanded beyond the poverty consciousness of my upbringing. Growing up in a single-parent household, even one international trip in economy would have been a dream. Business class was unimaginable for a girl raised in a council house in the inner city of Birmingham.

 

I’ve travelled business class many times, but mostly through companies I worked for, or with points for an upgrade. For a moment this choice felt wrong. I questioned if I should give the money to my mum instead or invest it more practically.

 

With trepidation, and feeling sick to my stomach, I went ahead and confirmed the flights. This was a nervous system expansion I didn’t realise I needed. Have you got areas in your life where what you want and what you allow yourself to have are in conflict?

 

For years I’ve dreamed of living abundantly: spending time across two countries, being with family and friends, running a thriving business, and working towards my impossible goal of becoming a New York Times best-selling author. But I’ve realised that to live my dreams, my nervous system has to hold the bigness of them. Visions can’t be realised if they’re marred by guilt, comparison, or contracting into smallness.

 

This is the identity trap.

 

It’s the gap between who we’ve been and who we’re becoming. It’s why so many lottery winners lose it all. Their outer circumstances shift overnight, but their identity doesn’t catch up. They can’t yet see themselves as abundant, so they unconsciously recreate scarcity.

 

It’s why I understood when my friend told me some of her team were struggling to step into multimillion-dollar client conversations. They were still calibrated to six-figure deals, not seven.
And it’s why I know my work isn’t only about my skill set. It’s also about the energy I hold. Clients can feel when you are steady, calm, and certain – not performing confidence but embodying it. When you expand your identity to meet the level of what you desire, others trust you can hold it too.

 

The identity trap doesn’t just affect who we think we are. It shapes what we believe we are ready to receive.

 

These last two weeks have reminded me that growth is never only about strategy. It’s about calibrating your nervous system, expanding your sense of self, and learning to hold the magnitude of what you say you want.

 

Because you will only ever receive at the level your identity believes you are worthy of.

 

 

Last weekend busted some deeply embedded myths around an identity I thought wasn’t available to me. It’s stirred something I’d buried, and I’m still processing what it means for who I’m becoming.

 

This past week I’ve been practising ā€˜letting go’ using the method described by David Hawkins in his book of the same name. I’ve been using it since the start of this year and it’s been a powerful process for calibrating my nervous system through identity upgrades.

 

In its simplest form, you allow yourself to feel emotions fully without suppressing them. You feel the intensity until it runs its course, and then gently surrender and let go.

 

I did this with guilt after booking the flights. I felt the guilt intensely without judging it, until there was no more to feel. Then I surrendered and let go. What left with the guilt was also the narrative attached to it. This meant I didn’t spiral or ruminate on whether I’d made the right decision. Because I let the guilt go, the story went with it.

 

After nine months of consistent, intentional practice, this is becoming more embodied. It complements my other transformation tools, helping me move through resistance and soothe my nervous system, which then calibrates to a higher level of possibility.

 

While these two weeks have called me inward, my outer reality is showing the fruits of the work.
I’m seeing my coaching clients break through their limits and make bold changes. I’m seeing my presence on stage felt more potently, with people recognising that our outer negotiations are limited by our inner negotiation capability.

 

Though it’s hard work, I’ve proven to myself again and again that when you wholeheartedly commit to the vision of the life you want, the universe reorders itself to meet you, greet you, and embrace you.

 

The question is: will you choose the life you say you want, and will you expand your nervous system to hold it?

 

My answer is yes. Is yours?

 

Keep going and keep growing.

 

Love Glin x

šŸ’›

  

P.S. Three things I'm grateful for this week:

1. Connection time with friends
While I’m still processing a significant identity shift, I’ve been grateful to have friends and neighbours close by to connect and share with. Deep inner work requires a support structure, and I’m thankful to have friends with different backgrounds and perspectives who help ground me when the sands beneath my feet are shifting.

 

2. Client shifts
Nothing energises me more than seeing the impact of the work I do. When I think about the amazing people I get to work with and the level of trust they place in me, I’m humbled to witness them take massive action following deep coaching sessions. I love seeing the micro moments when they ā€˜pop’, those deep aha moments where something resonates at their core.

 

3. John being okay despite a fractured hand
John broke his hand at the gym this week. He starts a new role on Monday and now has his hand in a cast, the universe enforcing rest from exercise for a little while. I’m so grateful it wasn’t any worse.

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