Aging,  Life Challenges

The Stories We Carry

  The Stories We Carry and the Ones We Let Go

a cat with with a fear of missing out leaning out a window Ardis Mayo, the stories we tell ourselves

 

Some stories we tell ourselves over breakfast each morning. Others we pack away in boxes labeled ‘someday.’ Which of yours are weighing you down, and which ones are lighting your path forward?

For years, I carried a story about myself as “not creative enough.” It began when, at the age of five, my sister, all of nine,  informed me that I had to color inside the lines in my coloring book.

A small moment, really, but it grew into a narrative I repeated silently each time I faced a blank page or canvas. I thought I couldn’t create anything without a design and then I better stay within  the lines!

I carried this story through college, through my early career, through countless moments when I stepped back instead of stepping forward.

It wasn’t until my sixties that I realized how heavy this particular story had become—and how little it actually served the person I wanted to be.

 

The Weight of Our Stories

We are, in many ways, the stories we tell ourselves. These narratives shape not just how we see the world, but how we move through it. They influence which opportunities we pursue and which doors we believe are closed to us. They determine whether we approach new experiences with curiosity or trepidation.

Some signs that a story has become too heavy to carry:

  • It narrows your choices rather than expands them
  • You find yourself using phrases like “I’ve always been this way” or “I could never do that”
  • The story feels like an explanation for why you can’t change
  • Thinking about it leaves you feeling smaller rather than more spacious

These burdensome stories don’t just affect our mental state—they take a physical toll as well. Research increasingly shows that the narratives we internalize impact our stress hormones, sleep quality, and even immune function. The stories we believe live in our bodies as much as in our minds.

The Art of Recognizing Which Stories Serve Us

Not all personal narratives need to be discarded, of course. Many of the stories we tell ourselves provide structure, meaning, and direction. The key is learning to distinguish between those that serve our growth and those that constrain it.

These are the questions I have learned to ask myself.

  • Does this narrative help me become more of who I want to be?
  • Is this story still true, or was it once true but no longer fits?
  • If a dear friend told me they believed this about themselves, would I agree or gently challenge them?
  • Does this story expand or contract my sense of possibility?

Sometimes a story was useful in one chapter of life but becomes limiting in another. The caution that protects us in a difficult period might become the very thing preventing us from thriving when circumstances change.

Letting Go: A Gentle Process

Releasing a long-held narrative isn’t about pretending the past didn’t happen or denying experiences that shaped you. Rather, it’s about creating a more spacious interpretation of those experiences—one that allows for growth rather than definition.

There’s a difference between “That experience was painful” and “That experience proves I’ll always fail.” Between “I struggled with this before” and “I’m the kind of person who can’t do this.”

The wisdom that comes with age has taught me a few things about my stories…stories I thought were the truth about my life, and that I never wanted to share or talk about.

I learned to reframe instead of bury the memory. Instead of trying to forget the story entirely, my “not creative” story eventually transformed into appreciation for my analytical thinking, which I now recognize as its own form of creativity. And I discovered that I really do enjoy [-link-Zen Tangling]

By writing about this in a journal,  I found the process helps me see it as something separate from my essential self.

Sometimes the physical act of letting go helps with the emotional process. Did you ever try writing down the limiting story and then burning the paper, for instance, or hurling a symbolic object into moving water? Amazing!!

Creating Space for New Stories

There’s a reason why “letting go” and “making space” go hand in hand. Our minds, like our homes, can only hold so much. When we cling to outdated narratives, we leave little room for new understandings to take root.

I’ve watched friends release limiting stories about themselves and witnessed the transformation:

  • The “I’m bad with money” story becomes a narrative about learning and growth
  • The “I always pick the wrong partner” evolves into deeper understanding of healthy relationships
  • The “I’m not leadership material” shifts into recognition of a unique personal leadership style

This process isn’t about replacing a negative story with a blindly positive one. It’s about creating narratives that acknowledge complexity, honor growth, and leave room for continued evolution. The most powerful new stories tend to be those that hold multiple truths simultaneously:

  • We can be both a work in progress and wholly enough exactly as we are.
  • We can honor where we’ve been while choosing a different path forward.

The Path Forward

That five-year-old moment with the coloring book?  It’s still part of my history, but it’s no longer part of my defining narrative. I’ve replaced “not creative enough” with “creative in my own way”—a story that acknowledges my unique strengths while leaving room for continuous discovery.

The stories we carry shape the lives we lead. The beauty lies in recognizing that we have a choice about which ones we continue to tell.

What’s one story you’re ready to set down today? Share in the comments or take five minutes to write about it in your journal. Sometimes naming what we’re ready to release is the first step toward lighter living.


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Ardis Mayo