You Are Still Holding The Pen

In Blog 98, we began listening for stories we tell ourselves. The familiar declarations sound like this: I am too old, not qualified, always quit, not confident, I could never do that, that’s just who I am, I don’t know. Perhaps you recognized one of your own. Now what? Recognizing an old story is important, but awareness is not the end of the work. It is the beginning.

Once we see the story, we have no choice: we either keep repeating it or decide whether it still deserves to shape our future. That does not mean we simply paste a cheerful affirmation over something painful and declare ourselves transformed. A useful new narrative is not a comfortable lie. It is a fuller truth. It acknowledges what happened without allowing what happened to become everything we are.

The goal is not to rewrite history. The goal is to stop letting history write every chapter that follows.

Begin with one story you tell about yourself. Not ten. Not every limiting belief you have accumulated over a lifetime. Pick one. Write it down exactly as you say it. Perhaps it is: “I am too old.” Is age a fact? Of course it is. But “too old” is an interpretation. Too old for what? Too old according to whom? Too old to learn? Too old to contribute? Too old to become a beginner? Too old to surprise yourself? A more truthful narrative might be: “I may be new to this, but I am bringing decades of experience with me.”

If you are ready to examine one of your own stories, try asking:

What is the story I repeatedly tell about myself?

When did I begin believing it?

Is it a fact or an interpretation?

Whose voice do I hear when I repeat it?

How has this story protected me?

What has it cost me?

What evidence from my own life contradicts it?

What would a fuller and more useful truth sound like?

Then comes the question that moves us from awareness into action:

What small thing could I do that would provide evidence for my new story?

This matters because a new narrative cannot live only on paper. We must begin giving it something to stand on.

If your new story is, “My voice deserves to be heard,” share one idea.

If your new story is, “I can follow through,” choose one small promise and keep it.

If your new story is, “It is not too late for me,” take one step toward the thing you thought you had missed.

Do not demand an enormous leap. Your old story was probably built through repetition. Your new one will be built the same way. One choice. One action. One small piece of evidence at a time. You may feel awkward at first. That is not proof that the new story is false. It is proof that it is new.

You may feel an urge to return to the comfortable nest of the old belief system. That is understandable. We know how to live inside the old story. We know its boundaries. We know what it expects from us.

A new story asks us to discover who we might be without those boundaries. That can be frightening. It can also be exhilarating. You can appreciate how your old story once protected you without allowing it to control you forever. Thank it, if you must. Then loosen your grip.

You are not required to carry every story into every new season of your life.

Some stories have completed their work. Some belong to a younger version of you. Some were never yours in the first place. AND, some are no longer true if they ever were.

The next page is waiting. You do not need to know the entire ending. You need only enough courage to write one more truthful sentence and then take one small action that helps you believe it.

Your story is still being written.

And you are holding the pen.

💚 The Accidental Blogger