Your Stories

© Pip Wilcox

I so nearly didn't wear this gorgeous, cosy coat today. Because it doesn't make me look *slim*. It was passed on to me by my niece. I bleddy love this coat. I bleddy love my niece. I bleddy love myself. As you can see here (I only went and made a reel), wearing it made me happy and I'm really glad I didn't listen to the story that tells me that my worth is tied up with my body size and that it's my job to make other people's eyes happy.

The stories we hold about ourselves are so important. They impact our thoughts, feelings and behaviours - and our mental health. The really, really good news is that if we're up for looking our stories right in the eye then we have the opportunity to start re-authoring them.  

It has been incredibly moving to read the scores of responses to the question I asked recently on Instagram: "Is there a narrative you have about yourself that you would like to hold a little more loosely in the coming year?" One of my missions with Middle Years Monday is to bring a sense of connection and belonging to women in their middle years. Witnessing each other's truths and seeing that there is so much crossover with our own, is one of the best antidotes to loneliness and that feeling of being an outsider or a bit of a weirdo. So I want to share two things with you today:

1) Some of the stories you shared which you would like to hold more loosely - plus an exquisitely beautiful response shared by one of you in response to one of those stories.

2) It gives me enormous pleasure to give you access today to a specially edited 37-minute version of a brilliantly illuminating Member event we had with Psychotherapist and Author Ruth Allen on this very topic. In this video I've captured the most potent and actionable nuggets that Ruth shared with us - it will bring you insight, 'A-ha!' moments and tangible calls to action.

GET YOUR POPCORN READY!

In this video you’ll spend 37 minutes with Ruth Allen learning about the importance of stories in our lives.

Some introductory words from Ruth:

"In this session on the importance of stories in our lives, I will tell you a bit about what I mean by stories, from a therapeutic point of view, where they come from and why they matter. We will then consider the hallmarks and pit-falls of our most unhelpful and redundant stories, including why we hold on to them at all! Finally, we will explore the different, practical, ways that you can begin to reauthor your most dominant stories, or live and communicate different ones altogether."


HELEN & VERONIQUE'S STORIES 

You may recognise Véronique Belot’s name - because a while back she gave me her blessing to share with you a private message she sent to me. I received so many emails from you in response letting me know how moved you were by her words.

Before I share with you some of the beautifully honest, brave and touching stories that you shared with me, for anyone fearing that it is too late for love, these more recent words from Véronique are for you. It made my heart sing that so many of you interacted with each other and responded to each other's stories - it really felt as if we were breathing life and warmth into Instagram's funny little squares.

Here, Veronique was replying to the wonderful Helen Hallows who wrote... 

"I need to rewrite the narrative that I'm too old to be loved and past my best. I turn 50 next year and I'm embracing a new version of myself and learning that I'm pretty awesome and deserve better."  

This is what Véronique wrote in response...

"Never too old. Never! I am 57 and have just (last spring) met a soulmate: somebody I love and who loves me, who sees me and has time for me, and I am - we are - experiencing love in a richer, deeper, fuller, more empowering way than either of us has before. What we bring to the relationship when we know ourselves better, when we have gone through decades of joy, pain, worry, hard work, boredom, loneliness, bringing kids up or not, having a career or not, whatever stuff the fabric of our lives has been, is a game changer. Past your best is a cruel surface label, one force-fed to us for reasons we all know. All the better if we are "past our best", because then we can start talking. Then we can dive under the surface. No one is going to be fascinated by our wrinkles or the stains on our dry skin, or whatever has replaced what we deemed beautiful about ourselves when we were young: brilliant, for now we can finally start the conversation from somewhere else. And it is delicious, believe me."


YOUR STORIES

(BTW you may need tissues - my husband cried when he read some of these).

Gabrielle Treanor's story

Thank you for this discussion, it’s so rich and heartening and true to the beautiful connections and community you create. What a question, Pip! The story I think of is that no-one is interested in what I have to say. Being heard growing up in a big family was really difficult and if I was listened to often what I said was dismissed. Plus I have a quiet voice which literally makes me hard to hear! I think this is why I know how valuable it is to feel listened to and heard x

Helen Marie Rose's story

Hmmm… So. Many. Stories... I shared one on a recent post of thinking I am unloveable when I am sad or angry. Maybe I can let that one go a little. Others that I hold on way too tightly are my beliefs of what other people think about me, that I’m not enough or I’m too ‘this or that’. I’m learning that it’s my projection and I do need to loosen that even more. I love this time of year for reflections such as this, so thank you for the opportunity to ponder on it Pip. I think I’ll journal on it a little later too.

Mitra Palmer's story

Our stories about ourselves are so powerful and I love that you framed it as holding them more loosely. So often in these kinds of spaces we are told to just let the story go. It’s much more of a process than that. For me the biggest one seems to be that I am TOO much. Too sensitive. Too emotional. Too talkative. Too silly. Historically that story has served to keep me quiet. If you are always “too” something, better to hide. At this stage (and I too am impatiently waiting for the “give no f&@$s” stage to kick in”), I am very consciously allowing myself to be those TOO things while also looking at ways that some of them may not always serve me. For example, my ability to be in touch with my emotions can be a strength and something that allows me to navigate situations in my own life and be an empathetic human being AND sometimes allowing your emotions full control isn’t the healthiest way to move through some things. So I guess I’m in a space of trying to look at my stories as objectively as I can, identify what they are trying to protect me from, maybe find some new practices to shift the destructive ones, and embrace and appreciate the elemental parts of me that I like.

Betsy Huggins' story

Oooh, love a juicy question at this time of year Pip! One of mine would be that I’m not good at expressing myself / making myself understood. I can struggle finding words when in direct conversation with people, but learning that there are so many other ways to ‘speak’ and communicate is helping me finally hold this story a little looser… 

Joyce Chin's story

One “belief” was that people were no longer in my life because I did something to make them leave; no matter how loyal I was. I’ve come to learn and understand it’s not about me. I’m 52, and don’t think I’ll ever give zero f*cks, just less, because I deserve more. Pip, thank you for creating this space. I still remember that first post. So much love for you and the MYM community.

Anna Mapp's story

I think for me it’s telling myself I’m overlooked and insignificant. I’m realising though that I seem to look for confirmation of those things. If I stop telling myself that’s the way it is, maybe it won’t be that way after all.

Helen Grace's story

Thank you for this powerful question and for all the thought-provoking, heart-jerking responses your words provoked. I see and feel the love between you all and it’s deeply moving. I have many [narratives], but this is the one I know holds me back from experiencing the deeper connections and community I so often crave. I have spent my entire life feeling like I’ve upset people, let them down, confirmed their feelings that I’m flaky, or done something that makes them feel negatively towards me. This story stops me from showing up after long absences or restarting things I’ve paused or forgotten about. Because I feel embarrassed and too self-conscious to override the narrative that my inaction or absence confirms that I’m flawed. I posted yesterday and shared something huge that I recently discovered. I didn’t know it would be coming out publicly… but I started typing and out it came! It turns out that I’m not a shit human. I’m a human who has spent 52 years living with undiagnosed ADHD. There’s a reason for SO many of the narratives I hold. I could and probably will write an entire book about this! But for now, I’m grateful for the opportunity to share in this lovely safe space. My intention from now on is to love deeply on Little Helen and remind her every day that she’s doing the best she can to manage her needs. And I’ll reassure her that nobody else judges or even notices when she’s done a disappearing act. I’ll move more lightly and joyfully back into community. In gentle quiet ways that honour my new discoveries about how best to support my magical brain.

Jo Slessor's story

I believed for too long that I wasn’t interesting enough… then I realised that by finding kindred spirits, we can all shine. Still work in progress but I’m getting there!

Gillian Running's story

I'd like to loosen the idea that I have to keep parts of myself separate and hidden in order to be acceptable.

@lifeonthemedway's story

Since my only sibling died at the age of 7, I've spent far too many years explaining my existence, my choices, who I am, and why I take up space. I'd love to completely ditch this narrative and exhale.

Louise Tilbrook's story

So many wonderful, thoughtful comments here. I'm really enjoying reading through them all over my morning coffee. For me I would have to say that I've always had a belief that I don't deserve nice things. A childhood growing up with a "lack mindset" meant that I really internalised a whole bunch of messages around "making do". I'll happily spend money on others but really struggle to do so for myself.

@mmavis9's story

I really struggle with allowing whatever I'm doing to be Enough. Instead I keep circling things in an effort to make them better or just critique all the ways it could be better. I'd like to have a better relationship with satiety and enoughness.

Kirsty Davidson's story

I think I want to loosen my grip on the belief that speaking my truth makes me vulnerable.

Virginia Woods-Jack's story

This is a great question, thank you for asking - all your posts are so considered and thought provoking. I think something I would like to hold more loosely is feeling like choices I make now hold more weight than at any other point in my life. My life has been full of experiences which I love and cherish - I haven’t played it safe and I have followed my heart. I made choices as a single mum that didn’t prioritize income so I don’t own a home and have a small pot for my future. I don’t want my choices to be stymied by fear to the point where I limit myself from being open to all the adventures still to come.

@irishpogue's story

I’d like to move forward by believing in my set of creative skills without those niggling doubts hanging onto my confidence. So that I can take some chances creatively and shake loose those nasty dark devils and revel in the joyous freedom.

Heather Jett's story

This is so helpful and cathartic. I’d like to let go of the idea that I’m responsible for everyone else’s care and happiness, and that those (futile) efforts are what make me a worthy person.

Genevieve Dutton's story

I would like to interrupt my own narrative of ‘you’re not good enough/stupid/nobody likes you or finds you interesting’. It is too sad to keep holding on to. I know it tries to keep me safe, but it reduces me and paralyses me and in my mid forties it is a waste of precious time x

Rachel Hunter's story

One of the narratives that I hold is that I’m not worthy of love, time and attention and that quiet, sensitive, considered is ‘less than’ and ‘other’. I think I hold this less tightly now than ever before but at times of struggle I revert to this story and a detrimental habit of being highly self critical. This is what I’m working to change going forward. I’m going to order Quiet by Susan Cain and bathe in the power and value of introverts!


I hope that your mid-week week is being gentle with you dear friend and that you have found something here in this email to be nourishing.

Much love,

Pip x

Pip Wilcox