Stories We Tell Ourselves
"The stories we repeat without questioning become the walls we live inside. This is where we bring them into the light — not to fix them yet, just to see them clearly."
The Lines I Repeat
We all carry a few lines we repeat to ourselves without questioning them: "I've lost myself," "I don't know who I am anymore," "I'm not who I was." Are there ones you're telling yourself? Write them down. You're not fixing them yet, just bringing them into the light so you can see them clearly.
What I Keep Telling Myself
Sitting With Your Version
Now it's time to sit with your own version of these stories. The six prompts ahead will take you through naming what's true right now, grieving what this transition has cost you, and recognising what it's already given you — right through to catching a glimpse of who you're becoming.
Naming
"If I gave this chapter of my life a title, it would be…"
Grief
"What this transition has cost me that I haven't fully acknowledged is…"
Receiving
"What this transition has given me that I haven't fully acknowledged is…"
Anchoring
"Even in my most disoriented moments, I am still someone who…"
Recognising
"Strengths I've built during this transition that I'm not acknowledging are…"
Glimmer
"Future me: what do I know about her already?"
A Letter, Sealed
Now it's time to write to the woman waiting on the other side of this self-exploration. Not the perfect, finished version of her — just whoever she turns out to be. Write to her honestly, the way you'd write to someone you love and believe in. Then seal it. Open it when you meet her, on the other side of this space.
To Her, From Me
Becoming — Session Summary
Stories We Tell Ourselves
Here's everything from this session, gathered in one place.
The Lines I Repeat
Sitting With Your Version
A Letter, Sealed
Sealed.
Jools has your responses. Your letter stays with you until you're ready — bring whatever surprised you into your next session.