I had a whole blog post planned up in my head. January was hustle and flow month in our house, so the whole thing was a run down of what worked, what didn't and how we made it through to the other side.

I couldn't write it. It was stuck, it was boring, it wouldn't flow.

I was stuck in the story of having to produce a certain type of content, profiling a certain side of myself. I felt like a shitty, shitty imposter.

Everyday, we can choose to drop into a story. About our life, our role, our image, our partners. Whatever it is, there are stories about ourselves. A selection: 

  • I have to be perfect
  • I'm the black sheep in my family
  • I am a shitty partner
  • I will never make more than XX/year
  • I have no self control
  • I could never run/wake up early/travel alone/start my own biz/stand up to my family

Stories keep us safe. They keep us from taking risks, sticking our neck out, leaving the comfort zone. It is like that super comfortable sweater that you wear around the house. It may need a good wash, or has a few holes, but it is what you've known. 

Stories serve a purpose- they keep you safe and playing within a certain comfort zone.