When the Dust Settles: What Beliefs Are Still Living in You?

Our minds work very hard to make something out of nothing.
Sometimes, we build entire stories out of a glance, a silence, a misplaced word. We convince ourselves we’re being abandoned or adored, rejected or redeemed—when really, it’s our fear (or hope) doing the heavy lifting. The truth often hides under the story we’ve told ourselves.

As Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind so hauntingly puts it:

“What a loss to spend that much time with someone, only to find out they’re a stranger.”

But maybe the deeper heartbreak is this: discovering we’ve become strangers to ourselves in the process. We toil over these inner narratives—about who we are, about others, about what’s acceptable to want, to feel, to say out loud. We rewrite ourselves for approval. We silence truths that feel too risky to speak. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, we lose the thread.

Why is it so difficult to change the stories we tell?

Because they’ve wrapped themselves around our very sense of identity. Some of them were whispered to us by generations before—especially the ones tied to gender, worth, or love. They’re inherited like heirlooms and worn like armor.

I think about this often.
In 1980, I was in college when Mt. St. Helens erupted, covering Eastern Washington University in a deep layer of volcanic ash. For weeks, the world looked like the moon—gray, quiet, altered. 

Most of the ash was cleaned up. But the rest? It settled into the nooks and crannies of daily life. Even after the sweeping stopped, it kept coming back. A fine layer would reappear on desks, floors, windowsills—reminders that some disruptions don’t just leave. They linger. 

They integrate. They become part of the air you breathe.

Just like the beliefs we never question.
Just like the stories we mistake for truth.

And yet—there’s hope in all of this.

Because the moment we notice the ash, we have a choice.
To clear it. To soften the story. To make space for a new one.
One that feels less like survival… and more like home.

So maybe today is the day you ask:
Is this story I’m carrying really mine?
And if it isn’t—am I ready to set it down?

You don’t have to rewrite your whole life.
You just have to find one small truth, dust it off, and start from there.

Ready to stop telling the same old story?

If you're feeling the weight of a narrative that no longer fits—one that's keeping you stuck, small, or invisible—let’s talk. Sometimes the hardest part isn’t changing the story… it’s realizing you’re allowed to.

Book a free discovery call and let’s explore what’s underneath the surface. Your truth is still there—waiting to be remembered. Schedule Your Call.