Your story

I love a good story. I love funny stories, heartbreaking stories, and all the ones in between. I probably love telling stories even more. In the last couple of weeks, I have been thinking a lot about stories, but not in the typical sense.

In of the fall of 2019, a woman from my church came over to meet with Julie and me. She was the teacher for Julie’s Sunday School class, and she wanted to get to know her better. The typical questions were asked, including what she liked to do? Julie told her she was a dancer. She asked what kind of dance? Julie said she loved jazz and ballet.

“A ballet dancer? You look like a soccer player, not a ballerina.”

Uh, wut?

The woman definitely felt the awkwardness, so she starting stumbling over her words, trying to smooth things over by naming another girl from church who looked like a ballet dancer, and how Julie’s body looked like she played soccer. Was this supposed to make us feel better? The conversation moved on, but the room was heavy and weird. Julie and I were both relieved when she left.

Clearly, this woman had preconceived notions about ballerinas, soccer players, and Julie. These are the stories I’m talking about—the little sneaky ones that are almost imperceptible.

It’s normal to have stories about lots of things. We all do it. However, it is important to recognize that stories are just that–stories. They aren’t facts. But we have a tendency to forget that, and we even start believing other people’s stories about us.

Norah had been in second grade for just a few weeks, when she came home telling me she was a “slow learner.” Where had that come from? She told me her teacher said she was slow. Unfortunately, Norah believed that for a long time, and it wasn’t even her own story!

Even more important than the stories we believe about other people, are the stories we tell about ourselves. Sometimes we can be really mean. Sometimes, we have been telling the stories for so long that we see them as facts.

I am a master procrastinator.

I’m always late.

Being fat is just who I am.

I’m not organized.

I can’t sell myself.

I’m bad at public speaking.

I have no patience.

I’m too old to learn that now.

These statements are not facts. They are simply stories we choose to believe. And reading through them makes me wonder…why would anyone want to believe this?

Stories are powerful. They can boost our confidence or tear us down. The best news is that we don’t have to adopt the hurtful ones. While we can listen to all the stories, even the ones about us, we don’t have to believe them. Teachers can think you are a slow learner, but you don’t have to take that on. A woman can say you look like a soccer player, and you can laugh as you pull on your tights and leotard…and go to ballet.