Have you ever watched little girls play? They take up space. They speak their minds. They don't apologize for being too loud or too excited or too much. They know what they want and they ask for it without shame.
I look at my daughter Ellie, my almost 10-year-old, and I see that beautiful certainty. That unshakable sense of self.
And it's led me to develop what I now call "The Ellie Question,"a simple but profound framework that's transformed how I make difficult decisions: What would I want Ellie to do if she were in this situation? What would I want her to see me do? What do I want to model for her?
I've spent two decades in a male-dominated industry, watching women, myself included, gradually trade that natural confidence for something else. In boardrooms and living rooms. In hard conversations about money and harder conversations about love. I've watched brilliant women nod along to lives that didn't serve them.
And somewhere along the way, I became one of them. Until Ellie came along and showed me another way forward.
The Moment of Pause
When things get hard. When someone says "I'm sure you mean well, but..." When an aggressive email lands in my inbox demanding time and attention. When my schedule has veered away from the life I value. When someone comments on how I should show up in the world, I pause.
I turn inward. I let my blood boil. I let the rage build. I simply notice. I don't try to quiet it. I observe it. I observe the frustration. The tension. The annoyance. And I sit with it.
Because what I’ve learned in my four glorious decades on earth is that our anger isn't wrong. Our frustration isn't inappropriate. Our desire for something different isn't selfish. They are road signs pointing us toward our truest selves.
The Crossroads: Easy vs. True
After I sit with these feelings, I ask myself what the easy thing would be. Would it be easier to "play the game" or "fall in line"? Would it be easier to defer? The answer is usually yes. Yes, it would be easier to live a life out of alignment. After all, that's living a life on someone else's agenda. They get to make the decisions and you're along for the ride. Not making decisions sounds magnificent sometimes.
But living someone else's story isn't freedom. It's the most expensive cage you'll ever live in, and the cost isn't just measured in dollars.
If you were in a relationship that looked perfect on paper but felt hollow in your bones, would you stay because leaving is hard or leave because staying is harder?
If you had to choose between a job that pays well but chains you to your desk or one that allows creativity and flexibility but offers less security, what would your first instinct be?
If you found yourself in a friendship where the conversation constantly veered toward tearing others down, would you stay silent to keep the peace or speak up at the risk of rejection?
This is when I turn to the Ellie Question.
The Ellie Question in Action
After I sit with my feelings and allow myself to feel them fully, I ask: What would I want Ellie to do if she were in this situation?
Oftentimes it's incredibly hard for us to put ourselves first. We make the excuses and fall last in line. But when I picture my almost 10-year-old, and think of the woman I hope she grows into, what it would take for her to get there, and what I say I want to model for her, the decisions and actions click into place.
The pushing back, advocating for what's fair, pointing out injustices, making difficult life decisions, choosing joy over money, all of it, it becomes so simple when I ask what I want her to see.
Would I want Ellie to nod and smile when someone talks down to her? Would I want her to stay quiet when her ideas are dismissed? Would I want her to choose a smaller life because someone told her "that's how it's done"?
Hell no.
The Psychology Behind the Question
There's something powerful happening on a psychological level when we picture someone we love deeply as we make decisions. Therapists have known this for years. It's why inner child work and future self-visualization are such potent therapeutic tools.
When I picture my daughter's face and ask what I want for her, I'm engaging in a form of perspective-taking that bypasses my own self-limiting beliefs. It's much easier to want courage, authenticity, and joy for someone we love than it is to want those things for ourselves. That distance creates clarity.
Therapists understand that visualizing your younger self or your future self operates on the same powerful mechanism.
When you picture your eight-year-old self—that child with the gap-toothed smile who believed she could be anything—what permission would you give her? Would you tell her to shrink? To be quiet? To put everyone else's needs before her own? Or would you tell her she deserves to take up space in this world?
And what about your future self? Imagine yourself twenty years from now, looking back on this moment, this decision you're facing. What would she wish you had done? What would she be grateful you had the courage to choose?
When I'm struggling with a particularly difficult choice, I sometimes take it a step further. I visualize three chairs: one for my present self, one for my eight-year-old self, and one for my future self at eighty. And I let them have a conversation about what matters most. The wisdom that emerges from this dialogue is almost always clearer and braver than what I would have decided on my own.
The Question Applied to Life's Big Decisions
The beauty of this question is that it works for almost any decision, big or small:
If you're wondering whether to have that difficult conversation with your partner about your shared future...
If you're debating whether to take that trip now or wait until "someday" when everything is perfectly aligned...
If you're questioning whether to raise your hand in the meeting when you have something to say but your heart is pounding...
If you're agonizing over whether to leave a career that's killing your spirit or stay for the retirement benefits...
Ask yourself: What would I want my child, my niece, my best friend's daughter to do? What courage would I wish for them?
Because that's what we're here for. Not to make our lives smaller so others can be comfortable. But to live with courage so others, especially those watching us, can see what's possible.
The Permission Slip You Need
When I'm picturing Ellie and the choices I hope she makes for herself, it's in many ways giving permission to the little girl inside of me. Permission to dream. To live an authentic life. To insist that my reality reflect my true values.
You may not have an Ellie. But you have someone, even if that someone is just your future self, who needs you to be brave today.
What decisions have you been avoiding?
What conversations have you been postponing?
What truths have you been swallowing that are making you sick?
What dream has been patiently waiting for you to be brave enough to claim it?
Ask yourself: What would I want for someone I love beyond reason? Then give yourself permission to want that same thing.
We can have uncomfortable conversations.
We can set boundaries.
We can walk away from relationships that diminish us.
We can take the trip now instead of "someday."
We can change careers at 40, 50, or 60.
We can say no to more money if it costs us our joy.
We can say yes to investments that align with our values.
We can change our minds about having children.
We can speak up when the conversation turns toxic.
We can advocate for ourselves in doctor's offices and boardrooms.
And we can do it all while being fully, messily, gloriously ourselves.
Because the little girl you once were and the future woman you're becoming are watching. And they're cheering for you to choose what's true over what's easy. Every single time.
Related: Boost Your Financial Confidence: 10 Essential Money Questions for Women