The Story You Tell Yourself Is Running Your Life (Time to Rewrite It)

Grab a cuppa - this one's going to get under your skin in the best possible way.

There I was, sitting in a business conference, when the presenter dropped a truth bomb that made my stomach flip: "Your strategy in every area of your life comes from the story you tell yourself."

Business. Goals. Relationships. Wealth. Health. Parenting. The lot.

Then came the kicker: "Look in the mirror and ask yourself - is that story serving you?"

Bloody hell.

The Story That's Been Running My Life

It took me longer than I'd like to admit to own up to mine. But here it is, raw and uncomfortable: I need to be DOING, to be of value.

Mum's love language was acts of service. Clean the house, get good grades, help with dinner, and look after your siblings. Love came through doing, not being. So naturally, I internalised that worth equals productivity. Rest equals laziness. Stillness equals worthlessness.

And mate, it's been absolutely knackering me.

Your Inner Narrator Never Stops Talking

That little voice in your head isn't just offering commentary - it's the director of your entire life. Psychologists call it your "narrative identity" - the internal story you've constructed about who you are, what you're worth, and what you need to do to belong in this world.

The thing is, most of us never question it.

We inherited these stories from our families, our culture, our early experiences. Then we spend decades living them out without ever asking: "Hang on, is this actually true? Is this helping me live the life I want?"

Your story might be different from mine. Maybe yours is "I'm not smart enough," or "I can't trust anyone," or "I have to be perfect to be loved." Whatever it is, it's running in the background of every decision you make.

You're Already Living Your Hero's Journey

Here's something fascinating: research shows that viewing your life through the Hero's Journey narrative can significantly enhance your sense of personal agency and wellbeing. Joseph Campbell discovered that cultures worldwide share the same universal story pattern - the "monomyth" - where a hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.

But here's the kicker: this isn't just about ancient myths or Hollywood films. This is the template for human transformation itself.

Campbell understood the hero's journey as "the process of personal transformation from an innocent child into a mature adult. The child is born into a set of rules and beliefs of a group of people. Through the child's heroic efforts, he must break free from these conventions (transcend them) to discover himself".

Sound familiar? That moment in the conference room when I recognised my limiting story? That was my "call to adventure" - the invitation to leave my comfortable but suffocating narrative and venture into unknown territory. The discomfort I felt? That's what Campbell called "the refusal of the call" - our natural resistance to leaving the safety of what we know.

The beautiful thing is, you don't need to slay dragons or save kingdoms. Your heroic journey is rewriting the story that's been running your life.

State Drives Story, Story Drives Strategy

Here's something that'll properly blow your mind: Tony Robbins teaches that "everything in life is dependent upon 80% psychology/mindset and 20% strategy". But before you can change your strategy, you need to change your story. And before you can change your story, you need to change your state.

This is where it gets practical.

Robbins' State Triad shows us that every emotional state is created by three forces: physiology (how you use your body), focus (where you place your attention), and language (how you communicate with yourself and others).

When I was trapped in my "doing equals worth" story, my triad looked like this:

• Physiology: Hunched shoulders, shallow breathing, constantly moving, never sitting still, checking my phone every few minutes for the next task

• Focus: Always on the next item on my to-do list, what I "should" be doing, how I was falling behind, scanning for problems that needed fixing

• Language: "I should be working," "I'm being lazy," "I'm not doing enough," "Everyone else is more productive than me"

No wonder I felt knackered all the time! My entire state was reinforcing the limiting story. Every breath, every thought, every word was feeding the beast.

I remember one morning long ago, my daughter asked me to build Lego with her. Instead of just saying yes, I found myself mentally cataloguing all the things I "should" be doing instead - the washing, the emails, the meal prep. Even when I sat down with her, I was fidgety, checking my watch, already planning my escape back to productivity.

She looked at me and said, "Mummy, your body is here, but your head isn't."

Out of the mouths of babes, right?

But here's the beautiful thing: you can hack this system.

Want to feel worthy without doing? Change your physiology - sit up straight, breathe deeply, relax your shoulders, put your phone in another room. Shift your focus to what you've already accomplished, what you're grateful for, the people you love. Change your language from "I should" to "I choose," from "I'm lazy" to "I'm resting," from "I'm not doing enough" to "I'm enough as I am."

As Tony says, "Where focus goes, energy flows". When you change your state using the triad, you literally change your story in real time.

The first time I consciously applied this, I was feeling guilty about taking a nap in the middle of the day. Instead of rushing through it while mentally berating myself, I:

• Changed my physiology: Slowed my breathing, relaxed my muscles, sank deeper into the mattress

• Shifted my focus: From my to-do list to the softness on my skin, the smell of the rain on the air, how good it felt to just be

• Changed my language: From "I shouldn't be doing this" to "I deserve this rest"

The shift was immediate. The guilt melted away, replaced by a sense of calm I hadn't felt in months.

Meet Your Inner Critic (And Tell Them to Rack Off)

Now here's something I learned the hard way: you need to know exactly who you're dealing with when that old story tries to take over.

My inner critic? Her name is Prove-It Pippa. She's the one who whispers "You should be doing something productive" when I'm having a coffee break. She's the one who tells me rest is for the weak and that my worth is measured by my output.

Prove-It Pippa is sneaky. She doesn't just show up when I'm obviously "being lazy." She's there when I'm reading a book ("Shouldn't you be learning something more useful?"), when I'm having lunch with a friend ("This isn't productive networking"), even when I'm messing around with my kids ("The house is a mess and you're just sitting here?").

She's got a whole arsenal of guilt-inducing phrases:

• "Everyone else is working harder than you"

• "You don't deserve to rest until you've earned it"

• "Successful people don't waste time like this"

• "If you really cared about your family, you'd be working to secure their future"

Once I named her, I could recognise her voice immediately.

The breakthrough came when I realised that Prove-It Pippa wasn't me - she was a collection of messages I'd absorbed over the years. She was Mum's anxiety about being "useful," society's pressure to be constantly productive, and my own fear of being seen as lazy or worthless.

Now when Prove-It Pippa starts her nonsense, I can say: "Cheers Pippa, I hear you, but you're not running this show anymore. Get back in your box."

It sounds mad, but it works. You can't fight what you can't see. By giving your inner critic a name and personality, you create separation between you and those limiting thoughts. You are not your inner critic. You are the one who gets to choose which voice to listen to.

Some days, Pippa is louder than others. When I'm tired or stressed, she practically shouts. But now I have tools to deal with her. I might say, "Thanks for your concern, Pippa, but I'm choosing rest today," or "I hear you, but I'm listening to a different voice now."

What would you call yours? Anxious Annie? Never-Enough Nick? Busy Betty? Once you name them, you can manage them.

The Moment Everything Changed

Back in that conference room, when I finally admitted my "doing equals worth" story wasn't serving me, something shifted. I felt this weird mix of relief and terror. Relief because I'd named the thing that had been running me ragged. Terror because... well, if I'm not my productivity, then who the hell am I?

As we went around the room sharing, it became crystal clear: nearly everyone's story - the helpful ones and the harmful ones - had come from a parent. "I'm not good enough" from a critical dad. "Money is evil" from a struggling mum. "I have to be strong" from a parent who couldn't cope. "Success requires sacrifice" from workaholic role models.

The woman next to me broke down as she shared how her mother's anxiety about money had turned her into someone who hoarded every penny, even though she was now financially secure. A bloke across the room realised his father's constant criticism had made him a people-pleaser who couldn't say no to anyone. Another woman discovered that her mum's perfectionism had created a voice in her head that nothing was ever good enough.

We were all carrying invisible backpacks full of inherited beliefs.

The parenting mentor in me questioned: "How is this story showing up in your parenting?"

Bloody hell. I thought about all the times my kids had watched me frantically cleaning the house before visitors arrived, apologising for "being lazy" when I sat down to read a book, or working late into the night because I "should" finish just one more task. They were absorbing my story without me even realising it.

That's when I realised: I'd been living someone else's story and calling it my own. And worse, I was passing it on.

How to Rewrite Your Story (Without Losing Your Mind)

Here's the thing about changing your internal narrative - it's not about positive thinking or affirmations. It's about honest-to-god reauthoring your life.

Step 1: Name Your Story

Get brutally honest. What's the story you've been telling yourself? Write it down. Say it out loud. Give it a name if you want - mine was "The Worthy Workaholic."

Step 2: Question Everything

Is this story universally true? Always? Was it ever? Who taught you this story? What would happen if you stopped believing it?

Step 3: Write a New Chapter

What would a healthier story sound like? Mine became: "I am inherently valuable. My worth isn't earned through doing - it simply is. I choose to act from love, not from need."

Step 4: Live It Out

This is where the rubber meets the road. Every time that old story tries to take over ("You should be working!"), you interrupt it with your new one. Out loud if you have to.

The Ripple Effect (Especially for Your Kids)

Your kids are absorbing your story too.

When they watch you hustle yourself into the ground, when they see you can't sit still without guilt, when they hear you apologise for resting, they're learning that this is how humans are supposed to live.

But when you start modelling a different story? When you say "I'm having a rest because I deserve one" instead of "I should be doing something productive"? You're giving them permission to write a different story for themselves.

That's parenting at its most powerful.

The Messy Middle

I won't lie - rewriting your story feels weird at first. Your old narrative will push back hard. You might feel guilty when you rest, anxious when you're not "producing," like you're somehow betraying everything you've ever known about yourself.

That's normal. That's your old story having a tantrum.

Feel it. Notice it. Then gently remind yourself: "I'm learning a new way to be in the world. This discomfort is temporary."

Your Story Starts Now

The most liberating thing I've learned? You're not stuck with the story you inherited. You're not doomed to repeat the patterns that were handed down to you. You get to be the author of your own life.

So here's my challenge: Take a long, hard look at the story you've been telling yourself. The one that influences every decision you make, every relationship you build, every goal you chase.

Ask yourself: Is this story serving me?

If the answer is no, then bloody hell, it's time to pick up the proverbial pen and start writing something new.

Because here's what I'm learning: You don't have to earn your place in this world. You don't have to prove your worth through endless doing. You don't have to carry stories that were never truly yours.

You are enough. Right now. As you are.

And that, my friend, is a story worth telling.

What story have you been telling yourself? And more importantly, what story do you want to write next? Drop a comment below and share your thoughts.

With love,

Philippa Scott