i was struck today by the stories we tell ourselves. realities are shaped by these stories whether they're true or not. if they're relevant or not. i think it's up to us which stories we want to believe about ourselves. that can sometimes be hard to do, especially if someone else's story is intertwined with our own.
her name was magil and she called herself lil
but everyone knew her as nancy.
i was raised in a family whose story was of brokenness. that was my identity, how i saw myself, my constant subplot. i'm an adult now, and i've claimed a new story (at least tried to), one of wholeness. my story is much bigger than one single chapter, i don't let brokenness define me anymore.
sometimes we have to make a conscious decision to choose to focus on a different story. the story we tell ourselves informs the stories we tell other people, and the stories they believe about us.
her name was magil and she called herself lil
but everyone knew her as nancy.
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