The Stories We Tell Ourselves

We don’t mean to lie. But we do it anyway.

Not to others but to ourselves. We invent reasons. Excuses. Versions of events. We tell ourselves we’re fine.

That it wasn’t a big deal. That they didn’t mean it. We turn heartbreak into a misunderstanding.

We turn silence into maturity. We call it love when it’s survival.



These stories start small. But they grow. They become the background music to our lives.

"She left me because I was too much." " He never said sorry, so I must have been wrong."

" I’m not the type who needs affection. I’m strong." "I’m fine" or "I’m over it."


But if we slowed down long enough to listen, we’d hear the cracks in the storyline.

We’d feel the tightness in our chest when we speak the words. We’d notice how our version doesn’t quite match the way our body trembles when their name is mentioned.

The truth is, the body doesn’t lie.

I sat with a client recently who swore she wasn’t angry. She said it with a steady voice, even a smile. But her jaw was clenched. Her fingers curled tight in her lap. And when I asked what she tells herself when he ignores her, her face fell. She said, “I tell myself I shouldn’t need more.”

There it was… the story. And under it, the ache of being unseen.



We don’t choose these stories randomly. We build them for protection. They shield us from shame, rejection, abandonment. But eventually, the stories start to cost us more than they save. They harden. We become the person we pretended to be… independent or unbothered. And we wonder why connection feels so far away.



So here’s a thought: Notice the words you repeat when no one is around. Notice what you say to yourself when you’re hurt. Not what happened but how you frame it.

Then ask: Is that really true? Or just a version I learned to live with?



Because sometimes, healing doesn’t begin with forgiveness or release. It begins with daring to tell a truer story. One where you were hurt. One where you wanted more. One where you didn’t deserve what happened.

We’re not here to blame. But we are here to see. And the moment you name a story as a story,  it starts to lose its grip.

Reflection Questions

·       What’s a story you’ve told yourself that no longer fits?

·       Whose voice shaped it — yours, or someone else’s?

·       What becomes possible when you stop repeating it? 


To explore how the stories you’ve lived inside may be shaping your relationships today, book a session or order my book Awaken the Heart by visiting www.katinapallaras.com.