Why we need to mindfully choose the stories we tell ourselves.

I recently watch the trailer “I Feel Pretty,” starring the incomparable Amy Schumer. Her character Renee Bennett feels overlooked and unremarkable until an accident results in a change in the way she sees herself. Post accident she is in love with herself. Nothing physical has changed, only the story of her perception.

Stories are a thing. When I tell my clients about their stories, I’m often met with defensiveness and frustration (at least in the beginning). They feel I’m underestimating their stress, minimizing their pain, invalidating their experiences. I promise I am not. But our stories must be defined and challenged and eventually proven and affirmed. Choosing our stories is an act of power and privilege, not a disempowered death sentence.

Here’s four things you need to know about your stories.

They don’t have to be based in reality.

My husband and I have been married for almost 19 years. On the whole our life together has been full of love and laughter but we joke he doesn’t have to be in the room to get in trouble. I have two stories in my head. One is he is a loving, handy, hard-working man who really loves me. The other is he doesn’t like to push himself, becomes forgetful and distracted and wishes I was someone other than I am.

At these moments, a dish on a side table or sock on the stairs triggers the negative story. If he is unlucky enough to walk in during one of those moments, he senses the negative energy and says, “what now?”

Stories are a cumulative reaction, connecting the dots between many experiences. While each experience represents a reality, the bigger story cements the situation into something more permanent. Ask yourself; do you want this thought process to become your daily reality? If the answer is no, choose the most positive, optimistic story available to you.

Your story works for you.

Let me lay it out for you. No matter how uncomfortable, disgusted, sad, angry or sick-to-your-stomach your story makes you, it is making you feel better about something. I know, it sounds sado-masochistic that you would choose something that causes you pain, but it’s part of our nature to want to feel right.

It makes you feel like a good mom when you feel you “have” to choose your children over your work. It makes you feel noble when you talk about the haters you have to work against. It makes you feel more right when you can’t apologize for fear you will let someone off the hook for his or her wrongdoing. It makes you feel less of a failure when you claim that no diets work for you.

Stories are powerful. If you sense your story is holding you back, be honest about how your story is serving you and ensure that story isn’t slowing your growth.

There is always more that one way to look at anything.

It may feel the most normal response, to be angry when someone has wronged you, to desperately miss someone who has just passed away or to feel frustration with your angsty teenager. Stories get in the way when you connect a morality to your story.

I find it interesting to learn about all the stories. Some people feel poor when they can’t afford the very best car. Another person simply feels gratitude they have a vehicle that runs. One person doesn’t want to live without a partner. Another feels great relief to be alone after getting out of an abusive marriage. One person spends all their time trying to control their teenager. Another enjoys the journey watching their son or daughter grow.

Stories should be created to serve you. Push to change your stories. If you think something is hard, run through the barrier and find new strength.

They should reflect your life, rather than take a life of it’s own.

Social media has created the tidal wave of collective thought. Hashtags connect our experiences to reveal the cultural patterns, the things we need to change or hopefully sometimes, uphold. Think #metoo or #blacklivesmatter.

Recently I experienced racial profiling. The circumstances don’t matter, and as with any situation involving more than one human, they are debatable. As I share my perception and reality, my friends, acquaintances and colleagues have had a variety of reactions, from outright denial to righteous indignation (on my behalf).

The more I shared the story, the less it felt connected to my life. It became a cultural catalyst, and each person reacted to it from their perspective. One person was a retired state trooper and questioned my interpretation of the event. Another person is a budding activist and listed other instances of profiling. The story wasn’t about my life. It was a tool of rhetoric.

My life is filled with many “stories” such as this and if you want to know my perspectives on racism or feminism or any other ism, I’m happy to share them with you. But I choose not to allow the story to overcome my daily life. I am also a suburban mother, a daughter of immigrants, a passionate inspirational-ist and competitive athlete. It’s my right to pursue all my stories, not just the ones that make me mad.

Stories are simply a perspective on a human experience. No story can completely sum up your existence; you are too big for that.

I’m thankful for the stories I choose.

I have a story of passion, creativity and triumph.

I have a story of second chances and deep gratitude.

I have a story as a gladiator for those who didn’t have the advantages I have.

I have a story of great and relentless abundance.

These are the stories I choose. They are others and sometimes those stories take over and make me feel sad or overwhelmed. The good news is I have my purpose-drive stories ready because at the end of it all, I want my story to be a legacy for all who know me.

What’s your story?