Lately I’ve been thinking about how easy it is to get caught up in the story we tell about ourselves. The version that sounds good when explained to others. The one that feels coherent, structured, believable. And the more we repeat it, the more we start to believe it. Almost like the story becomes the lens we use to see our own lives.
But here’s the paradox: sometimes that story isn’t even truly ours. It’s a narrative that fits the expectations around us, but not the feelings within us. A life that looks “right” on paper, yet feels misaligned in the body.
Psychology has words for this. Winnicott spoke about the true self and the false self, the authentic core of who we are versus the version shaped to meet others’ expectations. Cognitive dissonance describes the tension we feel when our actions don’t align with our inner truth. And internalisation shows how deeply the voices of parents, teachers, or society can become part of our own inner dialogue.
No wonder we sometimes feel like strangers to our own lives.
Because real feelings don’t always fit into neat sentences. They’re messy, shifting, often wordless. Yet we try to package them – into something acceptable, understandable, shareable. The risk is that we end up shaping our emotions to fit the story, rather than letting the story reflect what we actually feel.
And that’s where many of us get stuck: between what is raw and true in us, and what we think is “appropriate” to feel. Between what our body knows, and what the world expects us to say.
Maybe the real work isn’t about rewriting the story at all. Maybe it’s about pausing it. Sitting with the silence. Asking: why am I telling this story in the first place?
Because sometimes healing doesn’t come from polishing the narrative, but from loosening our grip on it—just enough to hear what’s underneath.
I’d really love to hear your thoughts in the comments. 💭
And by the way, I just want to say how grateful I am for the 100 recurring visitors here already. It honestly means so much that you choose to come back and read my reflections. 🥹💛
If this resonated with you, you might also like my post Maybe the Narrative Was Never Yours to Begin With?
