Put Up Your Umbrella and Keep Walking: Don’t Let the Naysayers Rain on Your Parade

You’ve felt it before—the electric jolt of inspiration, the excitement in your gut when you’re on the brink of something new. Maybe you’re launching a business, switching careers, moving to a new city, or finally following that creative itch that just won’t let go. Whatever it is, it has you lit up inside.

And then someone tries to dim your spark.

It’s subtle at first. The tilted head, the forced half-smile, the "Hmm, interesting…” when you share your plan. Maybe it’s followed by a casual “Are you sure that’s a good next move?” or the ever popular “That’s going to be hard.” Sometimes it’s more direct—dismissive comments, sarcasm, or that look that says, you’re dreaming too big.

Here’s the truth: there will always be people who rain on your parade. Maybe it’s out of fear, jealousy, insecurity, or just their inability to see the vision (or opportunity) that was given to you, not them. But their doubt doesn’t get to hold the pen in your story.

So what do you do?

Put up your damn umbrella.

You don't have to let their drizzle soak you to the bone. You don’t have to internalize their skepticism or turn their fears into your facts. Get excited about your path—freaking own it. If it lights you up, that’s all the reason you need to protect it fiercely.

Because here’s the bottom line: your joy is yours. Your vision is yours. Your momentum is yours. Your opportunities are yours. Don’t give someone else the remote control to your energy. You’re not a sponge meant to absorb every opinion thrown your way. You’re a spark, a storm, a walking declaration of “I’m doing this, whether you clap or not.”

So let them mumble, doubt, whisper, or roll their eyes. While they’re busy doing that, you’re already ten steps down the path they were too afraid to walk.

You don’t need everyone to get it.

You don’t need universal approval.

You need your why. You need your belief. You need that internal YES that says, this is right for me. That’s more than enough.

And when the rain starts to fall, and the critics creep in—put up your umbrella. Not to hide from them, but to shield what’s sacred: your belief, your joy, your fire. Don’t let them burst your bubble just because they don’t know how to dream (or be happy) anymore.

Keep marching. Keep dancing. Keep building. Keep Creating. Let them watch.

Because that parade? It’s yours. And it’s going to be freaking beautiful.