There was a time in my life when I made decisions that never left my head.
I would decide to change. Decide to speak up. Decide to walk away. Decide to start. These decisions felt real in the moment. Heavy. Serious. I would even feel proud of myself for reaching them, as if clarity alone was progress.
But nothing changed.
The days looked the same. The silence stayed. The discomfort lingered. And slowly, without realizing it, I began to distrust my own decisions. Not because they were wrong, but because I kept abandoning them.
That is when this truth became impossible to ignore:
You can measure someone’s power by the gap between their decision and their action.
The larger the gap, the less power they have over their own life.
I remember sitting across from someone I cared deeply about, knowing exactly what needed to be said. The words were clear in my mind. Honest. Necessary. But I swallowed them. I told myself I would say it later, when the timing felt right, when I felt stronger, when the moment was cleaner.
That moment never came.
Instead, weeks passed. Then months. The relationship slowly decayed under the weight of everything left unsaid. By the time I finally spoke, the truth had lost its force. Not because it was unimportant, but because I had waited too long to honor it.
The gap had done its damage.
Most people think power is loud. They think it looks like dominance, confidence, certainty. But real power is quiet. It is the ability to move when you know. To act when clarity appears, before fear has time to negotiate.
Fear lives in the gap.
The moment you decide something, there is a small window where the truth is raw and alive. Act quickly, and it carries you. Wait too long, and doubt enters. Other voices appear. You begin rationalizing. You start calling fear patience and calling avoidance wisdom.
That is how the gap grows.
I have felt this most sharply in moments where action required discomfort. Quitting something that looked good on paper. Starting something that had no validation. Choosing honesty over harmony. Each time, I delayed. And each delay chipped away at my self respect.
Not because I failed, but because I did not try.
Over time, a pattern forms. You stop trusting your instincts. You stop making bold decisions because experience has taught you that you will not follow through anyway. And that is how people shrink. Not suddenly, but gradually. Decision by decision. Gap by gap.
Closing the gap does not mean acting perfectly. It means acting honestly. Even small action is powerful when it is aligned. A message sent. A boundary spoken. A first step taken badly but taken anyway.
I learned that the fastest way to regain power is not motivation or confidence. It is movement. Action restores belief. Action rebuilds trust with yourself.
Today, when I feel stuck, I look at the gap. I ask myself, what have I already decided that I am pretending not to know. Where am I waiting for permission. What action am I delaying because it might change how others see me.
Because every time I close the gap, even slightly, something shifts inside me. I feel more present. More grounded. More real.
Power is not about control over others.
It is about integrity with yourself.
And that integrity lives in the space between decision and action.
