We are all a compilation of stories. Happy, sad, angry, frustrating, life changing, destroying, creating. Our stories define us, give us comfort in saying “that is who I am”. As I grow older, I am coming to realize that these stories are also what can freeze us, trap us in a moment and even cripple us.
I have told the story of the day we buried my brother a million times. It is THE story and each time I tell it, whether to myself or someone else, it is as if it happened yesterday, not 22 years ago. The same trauma, anger, powerlessness, grief and shame I felt in that moment is what I carry with me today. In all of those years, no one has challenged me to tell the story differently, until yesterday. Instead, it is “move-on”, “forgive”, “let go”. All advice that a million self-help gurus espouse (rightfully so) and to which I have been stone deaf to. I cannot listen because THE story overrides it all. Yet, when I think of another way to tell the story, from someone else’s point of view, focusing on another aspect of what happened that day, seeing what else I did and did not do, I can soften to the idea that a moment in time is only a moment. It frees me from responsibility that is not mine and forces me to accept what is my responsibility then and today.
We all choose the stories we tell. For me, being told to write a new one belied the strength of the one I had already written. Understanding that I do not ever need to write a new story, just create a different, equally authentic version of the one I hold so dear (for better, and in my case, much worse) is opportunity to be kind to myself and to the actors in my drama.
Perhaps writing a new story will work for you. I am a Capricorn and we goats never let go of anything. In the end though, perpetually letting go is what we are all challenged to do. To always let go of whatever version of yourself you know yourself to be. Not so much because you have to in order to move forward — who knows whether that is true or not. Mostly just to give yourself permission (and space) to go another way. Quite literally, to go out on a limb, just so you can saw it off.
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When we realize it is our “story” and what we have added to that story- what we made it mean for ourselves is when we can look at it with fresh eyes and realize it doesn’t have to be that story. Thanks for the reminder.
We don’t like to tell THE story different ways, but as creators, we have to constantly find different avenues to present ourselves and our stories. It’s an essential for doing business as creatives.
Stories like this are trusted foundation stones in the ‘Self’. I have one about my mother dying (abandoning me) when I was 18. It has taken me more than 25 years to realise it is a story and just that. It has taken me a few years more to deconstruct the story/lie about who I was because of this event.
Removing ones foundation stones is daunting and takes courage but without doing this one is trapped and limited by a single viewpoint.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to let go, because it means letting go of your final connection to the person you will leave behind in the history of your life and by extension, it lets go of that person. Or so we feel. That “story” is an emotional connection to your brother you’ve forged inside you, which really only exists in your mind. You can create a new story.
I ran away to Mexico when I was 19 and didn’t let my family know where I was for almost three years. For the longest time (even though I have been back and reunited with them for years and am a completely different person now) I held on to the guilt of who I was in my teens and could not forgive myself for my “story”. A therapist finally helped me see that thinking I was the worst person in the world was the same as thinking I was the best person in the world – very narcissistic. Every time I tell my story I put it a little further behind me, as well. Keep sharing, because you help so many people, Sean!
Elizabeth