Stories We Tell

Once there was a beautiful princess who lived in a lovely little town in Minnesota. The problem was that she was trapped by an ugly and angry ogre. This ogre controlled her every move: how she dressed, who she saw, how long she was gone. The ogre was also very critical of how she kept house, her lack of cooking skills and her inability to focus.

One day, the beautiful princess went away to collect her thoughts. When she came back, the ogre had suddenly materialized into a normal man who loved her very much but was afraid that she didn't love him. She realized that she had been living inside of a fairytale — a bad one — for too long. She broke the spell by realizing that the ogre was only real in her story. And in fact, SHE had been an ogre.

In order to relate to people and experiences, we often attach meaning and stories to the "what happened." Although what happened was real and may have caused us pain, our stories aren't. When we continue to believe that someone is critical or controlling or irritating or unloving or absent, we keep the story alive. But we slowly kill off the people. Worse, we prevent true love and compassion from entering our lives.

What stories do you tell about your children? Do you have the hyper child? The quiet child? The happy kid? The perfectionist? The athlete? Keeping our children inside stories like Peter Pumpkineater kept his wife does not allow for much freedom of expression. Or it may have the opposite effect of children rebellling against their story. The happy kid goes Goth. The perfectionist starts drinking.

Let's be aware of what we are asking our loved ones to live up to. A story we told ourselves about them has an element of self-fulfilling prophecy, until they can't live up to the story anymore. Everyone deserves the freedom to be themselves in the present. Let's put the past where it belongs and leave the future open to possibility.