“We are the stories we tell ourselves.”
Joan Didion
When I was twelve, my Grampsie, my favourite relative next to my mum, passed away. He was only 63. I was devastated. And somehow, in my grief and childlike logic, I decided I too would die at 63.
That number lodged itself in my mind, uninvited but powerful. It wasn’t a fear. It was a quiet, steady belief. A script I didn’t remember writing, but followed all the same.
Years later, I shared this with a friend. They said something I’ve never forgotten:
“Well then you will. If you think it, it will happen. Stop thinking that way.”
So, I did.
Not overnight, but steadily. I started changing the script. Because I realised what my friend had seen instantly, that the stories we carry shape the lives we live.
The Power of Narrative
Lately, I’ve been walking a lot with Todd, our rescued Shiba Inu. We’ve got a handful of well-worn routes near the house, fields, footpaths, muddy bridleways.
Recently, on a whim, we walked one of our regular paths in reverse. Same path. Same gates and trees. But everything looked different.
And it hit me: even the familiar becomes unfamiliar when we change our point of view.
It made me think about other “routes” I walk on repeat, the stories I keep telling myself about my health, my relationships, my career.
Some of those stories are kind. Some… not so much.
Why the Negative Sticks
Here’s the thing I’ve noticed (and I bet you’ve felt it too): the bad stuff tends to hang on longer. The missteps. The rejections. The wrong turns.
We replay them in full colour. But the wins? The breakthroughs? The good moments? They often get left behind, like postcards you meant to send but never did.
And yet, I believe this more firmly the older I get:
We are what we think we are.
Not in a motivational-poster sense. But in a deep, lived truth. The beliefs we hold, about our worth, our potential, our future, they steer everything.
So, What Now?
If you’ve been telling yourself a story for a long time, maybe now is the moment to ask: Is it true? Is it helpful? Could I walk this differently?
Whether it’s the idea that you’re not where you “should” be, or that good things don’t last, or that love has passed you by, what would it look like to question that?
Not with a bulldozer. But with a slow, steady step in the other direction.
Because just like that path behind my house, the view changes when you walk it backwards.
You don’t need a new life.
You might just need a new story.
