Permission Granted: Change Everything 🔁
"The story you tell yourself about yourself becomes your identity." — Jay Shetty
"I am allowed to change my story anytime I choose."
When I was younger, I told myself I was the quiet one. The awkward one. The one who didn’t belong in the spotlight, didn’t speak unless spoken to, didn’t cause waves.
I wore that story like a uniform. Fit just right. And because I believed it, I lived it.
I shrunk in rooms. Bit my tongue in arguments. Said “yes” when I meant “hell no.”
But the older I got, the more that story began to itch.
I’d catch myself in a mirror and think, What if that version of me isn’t even real? Not false, necessarily… just outdated. Like an old operating system, built to survive things I no longer needed to endure.
So I wrote a new line.
Not out loud. Not for applause. Just for me.
"I’m allowed to speak even if my voice shakes."
Then another.
"I can grow without asking permission."
And eventually…
"I don’t owe consistency to a version of myself that was built in survival."
Stories are powerful. But they aren’t prisons. And you don’t owe your past self a lifelong contract.
Try this exercise today.
On a blank sheet of paper (or the back of a receipt, no judgment), write this sentence:
“One story I’ve been telling myself that no longer serves me is…”
Then finish it. Don’t overthink it. Let your truth breathe.
Now underneath that, write this:
“What if the opposite was true?”
Sit with that. You don’t need to believe it yet. Just let it exist as a possibility.
Because every story you’ve been repeating started as a sentence you chose to believe. You can choose again.
"The story you tell yourself about yourself becomes your identity." — Jay Shetty
And identities can be updated. They're not set in stone. They're etched in sand, waiting for new footprints.
What’s a story you’ve outgrown, but still catch yourself clinging to out of habit, guilt, or fear?
And what would the rewrite sound like?
Drop your reflections below or hit reply. Whether it’s a single sentence or a winding monologue, your voice matters. Because someone else out there might be stuck in a similar script… and your courage could be the nudge they need to pick up the pen.
You are not the roles they gave you.
You are not the labels you memorized in childhood.
You are not the story you once needed to survive.
You are the narrator now. And guess what? Rewrites are allowed.
So if the story you’re living feels like it’s caging your breath, start a new page.
Not because it’s easy. But because it’s yours.
And that, friend, is where everything changes.
— Ryan Puusaari
Thank you for reading today’s Healing Text.
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