The Stories We Tell Ourselves
There comes a moment on the path when the familiar stories we tell ourselves begin to feel too small. We can sense a quiet tension between who we’ve been and who we’re becoming, recognizing that the old narratives no longer match the truth rising inside of us. Sometimes, all it takes is an honest conversation or a sudden spark of awareness to reveal just how tightly we’ve been holding on to those outdated scripts.
Recently I was having a conversation with a friend about some of the blocks I had been experiencing lately, telling the same old story I always tell about how I can’t find my voice, the unworthiness I feel and like I am an imposter in my healing work. As we were chatting about these perceived blocks and their origins, a whisper was delivered with such clarity, “ child, if you continue to tell these same old stories there is no room for you to birth new ones into your reality.” It was a clear and concise message suggesting to me that my words held power and that I needed to examine the stories that I have chose to tell if I truly wanted to flip the script.
Being a practitioner that assists others in going into the shadow I have witnessed so many of my clients become stuck in this same story. Stuck in the never ending loop of identifying with the past and talking about the things that caused them emotional disease or heart-ship. Many of us are unknowingly recreating old stories over and over, allowing the inner narrator, that is usually a pessimist, to recount tales of the past and basing our present moment on earlier chapters and the belief that history always repeats.
Never underestimate the power of your words
You see the way we speak about ourselves and our story is not casual. It’s creative and it manifests in the now. Every sentence becomes a spell that either reinforces an old identity or opens the doorway to a new one. When I kept repeating that I couldn’t find my voice, that I wasn’t ready, that I didn’t feel worthy of guiding others, I was unknowingly affirming the very walls I wanted to dismantle.
Our beautiful bodies are always listening. They respond not only to what has happened, but to the meaning we assign to what has happened. For example all I have to do is recall a moment in my life when I felt extreme anxiety; dizzy, confused, hot, racing heart, dry mouth and an eventual black out and I can feel my entire body become activated as my nervous system screams, “danger!!” and prepares my body to flee. Our bodies are incredibly intelligent and designed to keep us safe and recognize perceived threats to ensure our continued existence, but they have a hard time distinguishing between the present moment and the thoughts that are on replay in our minds and the way we speak about the things of days gone by.
This is where somatic awareness becomes such a powerful ally. In the world of somatic experiencing, we learn that the body stores unresolved moments like bookmarks in our tissues. Sensations rise not to punish us, but to complete a cycle that once felt too overwhelming to face. When we meet these sensations with curiosity and anchored presence the body begins to rewrite its own story. It learns that in this new chapter there is no danger and that a new ending is possible.
Employing a new narrator
Just as the body learns through sensation, the mind learns through repetition. Every new thought, every softened belief, every compassionate reframe, every positive affirmation whispered can begin to carve a fresh neural pathway. It’s not about pretending everything is perfect. It’s about showing your brain that another narrative exists. With time and consistency, these new pathways become the ones your mind reaches for first, turning possibility into familiarity. So when we choose to speak about ourselves with tenderness, when we interrupt the old narrative mid-sentence and breathe instead of spiraling, we aren’t just being ‘positive’, we are rewiring our inner landscapes. We are giving our nervous system a new story line to follow and we are telling the universe that we are ready for something new.
So as I sat in contemplation of this I came to understand the deeper invitation within the whisper I had heard: It’s time to become the storyteller of my own becoming, rather than the archivist of my old wounds. I hope you will accept this invitation too.
Practices to help you write a new story
1. Bring awareness to the stories you tell
Just simply notice the narrative you tend to lean into without judgement. Are you speaking kindly to yourself? Are you stuck in an old story? Is there a pattern that you are noticing in the interactions that you have with others? With this new awareness of the inner narrator, are there ways in which you can change your language and the way that you tell your story?
2. Pause before you speak about yourself.
Even a single breath can interrupt an old pattern. Notice the words you were about to use — and ask yourself if they belong to who you were, or who you are becoming. Let the breath give you enough space to choose.
3. Try reframing with compassionate language.
You don’t have to leap to radical positivity.
Instead of “I always mess this up,” try “I’m learning a new way.”
Instead of “I’m not good at this,” try “I’m building confidence.”
Small shifts create powerful new neural pathways.
4. Let your body help retell the story.
If you feel your nervous system tighten when an old narrative surfaces, place a hand on your heart or belly and breathe slowly into that space. This signals to your body that the present moment is safe, allowing the old imprint to soften. Sensation becomes a doorway rather than a trigger.
5. Choose an affirmation that feels true enough to hold.
Not something of fantasy but something that goes directly to the climax of the plot.
“My voice matters.”
“I am learning to trust myself.”
“I’m allowed to grow beyond my past.”
Repeat it when your mind starts narrating from old chapters. Let it become the new anchor point.
5. Rewrite one old story on paper.
Take a narrative you’ve carried for years — about worth, capability, love, or identity — and write a new version. Not a fantasy, but a possibility. Something that feels like the next step of who you’re becoming. Place it somewhere you’ll see often.
I hope this helps you move through the world with more self compassion and awareness of the power within you to create transformation in your life!!
Blessings,
Arielle
