The stories we tell ourselves
The difficulty is not the stories themselves but the fact that we don't pause to question them.
After loss, something else quietly begins to form alongside the grief itself.
A story.
Not just the story of what happened, but what we have decided the story means for us and our lives.
Sometimes it sounds like this:
“I should be coping better.”
“I’m not the person I used to be.”
“I’ll never feel like myself again.”
“It’s too late for me now.”
“I have to stay strong.”
These stories arrive gently and are convincing. They don’t announce themselves as stories. They feel like facts, facts that we then ruminate over.
Grief reshapes identity. When someone we love dies, or something we depended on disappears, the ground beneath who we thought we were shifts. And in that uncertainty, the mind tries to make sense of things. It searches for explanations. It fills the gaps.
That is human.
The difficulty is not that the stories themselves, it’s that we rarely pause to question them.
Stories are like seeds and you can choose which to plant
As the Grief Gardener, I often say that you don’t always consciously plant what is growing in your inner garden.
Some stories are like seeds carried in on the wind, beliefs picked up from family, culture, expectation, or fear. Others were planted in the shock of loss, when the ground was most vulnerable.
And once a seed takes root, it quietly shapes the garden.
If the seed is “I must cope alone,” you may grow isolation.
If the seed is “I don’t deserve joy,” you may pull back from light.
If the seed is “I am no longer whole,” you may shrink yourself.
But gardens are not fixed landscapes.
They can be tended.
Living forward is not about pretending certain plants never grew. It is about noticing what has taken root and choosing, with compassion, what you want to nurture.
Some beliefs may need loosening. Some may need gentle pruning. Some may simply need more light.
You are not failing because certain stories grew in the aftermath of loss. They were a protective response. A way your heart tried to stay safe.
But survival is not the only season available to you.
You are allowed to cultivate something steadier now. Over time, these quiet narratives can shape how we show up, what we allow ourselves, and what we think we deserve.
The power of pausing to question
What if, instead of arguing with your inner story, you grew curious about it?
Where did it begin?
What was it trying to protect?
Is it still serving you now?
Living forward does not require erasing the past. It invites you to gently update the story you are living inside.
Perhaps the story can shift :
“I am broken” becomes “I am rebuilding“
“I have lost everything” becomes “I am learning what still remains.”
“I must stay the same” becomes “I am allowed to explore who I am now .”
This is not about forced positivity. It’s about intention. About recognising that while you did not choose the loss, you still have influence over the meaning you carry forward.
You are not the embodiment of the worst thing that happened to you.
You are not defined solely by what you have lost.
You are still becoming.
A gentle question for today:
What story have I been living inside and what would it feel like to soften it, just a little?
A gentle invitation
If you sense that an old story is quietly shaping your choices, your confidence, or your sense of direction, this is the kind of work we explore inside Living Forward.
Together, we gently uncover the narratives formed in grief and reshape them so they support steadiness, meaning and self-trust, not self-doubt.
If you feel ready to explore what your next chapter could look like, you’re warmly welcome to take that step.
With warmth
Karen
p.s. last month I wrote to you about letting the light in while not letting go and invited you to think about the way light and shade co-exist in nature and all aspects of life …including grief.
The Grief Gardener at Reset and Rise Coaching - solution-focused grief support, creating the conditions for life after loss.
Stories are powerful and this is a helpful pause to consider them
This was such a beautiful and thought-provoking reflection - thank you for sharing 🙏