The Hero of the Story

There’s no big chunky post this week. I’m not making any of my usual sweeping generalisations and moaning about how hard everything is for me. I have a few big posts in the works but they deserve to have more thought go into them than the hour I have on the train now. I just want to use this opportunity to offer a tip that really pulled me out of a bit of a teary moment this weekend.

I see everything as a story. I didn’t realise for a very long time that other people’s brains don’t focus so much on narrative. It’s great sometimes. It means I can see poetry in a repeated statement a friend has made in two different situations. It means I find ways to cast the people in my life, to sort it into chapters, to analyse it, to make it mean something when it doesn’t. I’m constantly editing the narrative of my own life in my head. It also means that sometimes things get distorted. I can become convinced someone is someone they’re not. The catalyst of one whole chapter can be words someone threw away with no thought in them. If something doesn't fit into the story I expected I find it hard to deal with it. There are pros and cons.

But sometimes it’s really important to use this way of thought to regain some faith in yourself. And I had to be reminded of that by someone else this weekend. You can look back at the last few years when you’re in a bad spot and tell the story to yourself in the worst way. The way that highlights all the bad, highlights all the mistakes and highlights all the ways you’ve failed as the protagonist you’re supposed to be in your own story. Take a moment to retell yourself the same story. Give yourself credit for what you’ve gotten over, what you’ve sat through painfully, what you’ve left behind. Play your last few years over in your head and sort it into a narrative that has you cheering as an audience member. Watch yourself triumph over things you didn’t think you could, watch yourself keep going in the face of hardship, watch yourself cry and then take a deep breath and go back outside with a smile on your face. Take a minute to give past you a hug and thank you for getting this far. 
I berate myself for being so obsessed with stories and making my life one, but sometimes that’s all you need to do. I looked back at 17 year old me and wondered how she got through what she did, because I’m not even sure if I could get through that now. But she did. I did. In our lowest moments we all think we’re weak and broken and useless. Take a minute to retell your story, and make yourself the hero.

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