self-trust
self-trust

self-trust

Navigating Life Changes
Featured

What Do I Do With the Memories?

Have you ever been reminiscing with someone about an event you both attended, only to discover that you remember it completely differently? You remember a wonderful family gathering, filled with laughter, good food, and conversation. Yet, a family member remembers feeling uncomfortable, being left out of conversations, or an unpleasant remark that was made.

You were both there. You attended the same gathering, spent time with the same people, and shared the same afternoon. But you didn’t necessarily have the same experience. Neither of you has to be wrong about how you experienced that afternoon.

Now imagine two people looking back over years of a relationship. One remembers the wonderful vacations, the family celebrations, and the life they worked so hard to build together. The other remembers those same occasions, but also remembers the arguments before leaving home, the uncomfortable silences, or the effort required to keep everyone happy.

They shared a relationship, but they didn’t necessarily experience it the same way. And when that relationship ends, those different perspectives can become a source of considerable conflict.

When Someone Challenges What You Remember

If you’ve experienced the end of a difficult relationship, you may remember conversations that went something like this.

“That’s not what happened.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You’re remembering it all wrong.”

“You’re crazy if you think that’s what I meant.”

Those words can become painfully familiar in a difficult relationship. And when frustration takes over, both people can find themselves questioning or dismissing the other’s recollection.

When emotions are running high, it can be difficult to understand how someone who shared so much of your life could remember things so differently. You remember feeling dismissed and unimportant. Your partner remembers working long hours to provide for the family. You remember being afraid to express your opinion. Your partner remembers being frustrated because you wouldn’t tell them what you wanted. You remember feeling alone in the relationship. Your partner remembers all the things you did together. And the arguments continue because each person wants the other to acknowledge their experience. But here’s something worth considering.

You don’t need someone else’s agreement to acknowledge your own experience.

You know how you felt when your opinions were dismissed. You know what it was like to hesitate before speaking because you were concerned about the reaction you might receive. You know how exhausting it could be to anticipate someone else’s moods or continually adjust your behaviour to avoid conflict. Those experiences mattered to you. The other person may remember the circumstances differently. They experienced the relationship differently. That doesn’t automatically make your experience any less meaningful.

Of course, having different perspectives doesn’t mean every recollection or interpretation is equally accurate. We can misunderstand someone’s intentions, forget details, or draw conclusions that later turn out to be mistaken. And recognizing different perspectives doesn’t excuse intimidation, manipulation, or other harmful behaviour. But you can acknowledge that another person had a different experience without surrendering your own.

Your experience doesn’t require someone else’s approval before you’re allowed to acknowledge it.

What About the Good Memories?

This is where things can become particularly confusing. Perhaps you remember a wonderful vacation with your former partner. You remember laughing together, enjoying new experiences, and feeling genuinely happy.

Then another memory appears. An argument. An insult. A moment when you felt humiliated or frightened. Suddenly, you’re questioning yourself. How could I have been so happy with someone who also caused me so much pain? Was the relationship really as difficult as I remember or did I make too much of what happened? Or you find yourself doing the opposite, dismissing the happy memories because the relationship eventually became so painful. But why should you have to choose?

Remembering the good doesn’t erase the harm.

Remembering the harm doesn’t require denying that anything good ever happened.

You can remember the laughter and acknowledge the loneliness. You can appreciate the wonderful experiences you shared and recognize that other aspects of the relationship were unhealthy. You can remember loving someone deeply and still know that leaving the relationship was the right decision for you.

The happy memories don’t have to justify the painful experiences. And the painful experiences don’t have to take away every moment of happiness you once enjoyed. They all have a place in your history. You don’t need to rearrange your memories to make the relationship entirely wonderful or entirely terrible. You can allow your experience to be as complicated as it actually was. I’ve explored this further in my Wisdom Wednesday conversation, Can You Be Thankful After Abuse?, where we look at appreciating the good without rewriting the past.

Sometimes a Memory Takes You by Surprise

Memories have an interesting way of appearing when we least expect them. A song comes on the radio. Someone mentions a familiar place. You find an old photograph while cleaning out a drawer. You’re having a conversation with someone and suddenly you’re reminded of something you haven’t thought about in years.

A memory can make you smile, bring back sadness, disappointment, or give you a different understanding of something you experienced years ago. Think about the occasions when you set aside something important to keep your partner happy. At the time, you considered it a normal part of being in a relationship. Looking back, you recognize how often your own wishes took second place. The experience hasn’t changed, but your understanding of it has.

Or someone mentions a family gathering, and you remember how much you enjoyed being surrounded by people who cared about you. You realize how much you’ve missed those connections.

Neither memory requires you to revisit the entire relationship. You can acknowledge what you remember without turning it into an investigation of everything that happened. And you don’t need to explain why a particular memory appeared today rather than five years ago.  Sometimes memories simply come to mind.

The fact that you remember something doesn’t automatically mean you need to do something about it.

You Don’t Have to Keep Defending Your Past

Have you ever caught yourself having an argument with someone who isn’t even in the room? You remember something your former partner said or did, and before you know it, you’re having the conversation all over again. This time, you know exactly what to say. You explain yourself more clearly, recall the details you missed, and come up with the perfect response. And in your imagination, they finally understand.

But what if they still deny it? What if they turn the conversation around like they always did? And there you are, defending yourself all over again. For women who spent years having their experiences questioned or dismissed, the habit of defending themselves can continue long after the relationship ends. The relationship may have ended, yet the argument is still taking place in your mind.

Sometimes looking back helps us understand an experience or recognize something you overlooked. But there’s a difference between gaining understanding and repeatedly trying to win an argument that has already ended.

And here’s an important distinction. Being understood by someone else and understanding your own experience are not the same thing. You can know that something hurt you even when the other person insists they meant no harm. You can acknowledge your own mistakes without accepting responsibility for another person’s behaviour. And you can recognize that two people experienced the same relationship differently without needing to prove that one person’s entire recollection is right and the other’s is wrong.

This doesn’t mean facts are irrelevant or that every interpretation is accurate. Establishing what happened can be important, particularly when safety, legal matters, or financial responsibilities are involved. But another person’s agreement isn’t required to acknowledge your personal experience. There may never be an apology, an acknowledgement of what you experienced, or a shared understanding of why the relationship ended. Your ability to create a fulfilling life doesn’t have to depend on receiving those things.

Think of the freedom in recognizing that. The time spent rehearsing explanations could become time spent in the moment. The attention given to defending decisions made years ago could become attention given to the decisions available today. And the energy spent trying to convince someone else of your experience could become energy invested in understanding what matters to you now.

The past doesn’t disappear. Your experiences don’t become less important. But you no longer have to keep making your case to someone who may never agree with you.

What Do These Memories Mean for My Life Today?

There’s something fascinating about the way an ordinary memory can bring a new understanding of our lives. An experience that seemed unremarkable years ago can take on a different meaning when we consider it from where we are today. Not because the event itself has changed, but because we have. We’ve gained experience, developed different perspectives, and learned more about ourselves and the relationships we want in our lives.

Consider a woman who remembers how often she changed her plans to accommodate her partner. At the time, she considered herself flexible and easygoing. She enjoyed making other people happy, and there was nothing particularly unusual about changing plans. Years later, she recognizes that she rarely considered what she wanted. That memory doesn’t necessarily mean she was wrong to accommodate someone else’s wishes. It offers another perspective on how she participated in the relationship. And today, she has the opportunity to understand the difference between genuinely enjoying being flexible and setting aside her own preferences because she fears disappointing someone. That distinction may be useful in her friendships, family relationships, or future romantic relationships.

If you’ve ever wondered how much of your life has been shaped by other people’s expectations, you might enjoy my article, Whose Life Are You Living?

And memories aren’t always connected to things we want to change. Sometimes they remind us of things we want to enjoy again. A woman remembers how much she loved spending Saturday mornings painting. She recalls the pleasure of choosing colours, becoming absorbed in what she was creating, and looking forward to having a few uninterrupted hours to herself.

Over the years, other responsibilities took priority, and painting gradually disappeared from her life. The memory reminds her of something she once enjoyed. Whether she decides to pick up a paintbrush again is entirely up to her. The memory simply offers information about something that once mattered. Making room for the things we enjoy isn’t always easy when life is full of responsibilities. I explore this in Your Life Is Full, But Where Are You?

And then there are memories that have no particular relevance to our lives today. A familiar song reminds us of a holiday. A conversation with a friend brings to mind an event we haven’t thought about in years. We remember. We experience whatever feelings accompany the recollection. And life continues.

Not every memory contains an important realization. Not every experience offers a lesson. And not every recollection needs to influence what happens next. A memory doesn’t create an obligation. You get to decide whether it deserves a place in your decisions today.

I think that’s an important freedom to recognize, especially after living in circumstances where so many decisions were influenced by other’s expectations. Our memories are part of our history. They contribute to our understanding of ourselves, our relationships, and the world around us. Some offer valuable information about what matters to us today. And sometimes you’ll remember something that has no particular relevance to your present circumstances. You can smile, feel a moment of sadness, or simply acknowledge that it happened. Then continue with your day.  They can all have a place without all having the same importance.

We can acknowledge our experiences, appreciate what we’ve learned, and allow the life we’re living today to have its own possibilities.

You Are Allowed to Change Your Understanding

There’s another aspect of remembering that I think is worth exploring. As we gain experience, learn new things, and develop a greater understanding of ourselves, we sometimes see past events differently. You may recognize that you made choices based on what you understood and what was available to you at the time. Today, you have different knowledge, different experiences, and perhaps different opportunities. That doesn’t mean you have to criticize the woman you were. She was living her life with the understanding and circumstances she had then.

You can appreciate the decisions that helped you get through difficult times while recognizing that you would make different choices today. You can also reconsider an old interpretation without dismissing your original feelings. Perhaps you once believed that someone deliberately excluded you from an event. Years later, you learn something that changes your understanding of what happened. You can accept the new information and still acknowledge that feeling excluded was painful at the time.

Changing your understanding doesn’t require denying your experience. It simply means you’re allowing what you know today to inform how you see the past. And that is part of growing as a person.

Your Memories Belong to You. Your Future Does, Too.

I wonder how much time we spend trying to make sense of things that happened years ago.

Sometimes those reflections bring useful understanding. Other times, they leave us going around in circles, asking questions that may never have satisfying answers.

There comes a point when understanding our past becomes less important than recognizing how we want to live today. The experiences we’ve had can influence what we value, what we’re willing to accept, and what we want from our relationships. Some of those influences are helpful. Others may be habits or expectations that made sense at one time but no longer fit the life we’re creating. And that’s where our memories can offer something valuable. They give us information about the life we’ve lived, while leaving us free to decide what matters in the life we’re living now.

We can appreciate our history without allowing it to determine our future. Your memories are part of your life. They have helped shape your understanding, your preferences, and your experiences. But they don’t have to make your decisions for you.

You can honour the life you’ve lived while giving yourself permission to create the life you want now.

Navigating Life Changes
Featured

Whose Life Are You Living?

There was a time in my life when asking someone else what they thought seemed perfectly reasonable.

“What do you think I should do?” “Do you think this is a good idea?” “What would you do?” “Am I making too much of this?”

Sometimes I genuinely wanted another perspective. But sometimes I already knew what I thought. I was asking because I didn’t trust my own answer enough to act on it. When you have spent years having your judgment questioned, your feelings dismissed, your choices criticized or your version of events challenged, you can develop a habit of looking to someone else for the answer instead of trusting your own.

You may not even notice yourself doing it. You ask your mother, sister, your adult daughter, or best friend. You might ask a coach, counsellor or therapist. Everyone you know is asked for input. And there is nothing wrong with asking for advice. We all need people who can help us see something we may have missed. The problem begins when advice becomes permission.

When Someone Else’s Answer Feels Safer Than Your Own

Living in an abusive or controlling relationship can teach a woman to question things she once knew quite easily. She may begin asking herself, “Am I allowed to be upset about this?” “Was that comment inappropriate?” “Can I say no?” When her judgment has repeatedly been questioned, dismissed or overridden, she may begin looking to others for confirmation.

Then the relationship ends, but the habit of looking to others for answers may continue. Instead of beginning with what she thinks or wants, she turns to people she trusts and gives their judgment more weight than her own. The relationship has changed, but she is still looking to someone else for the final word.

The people she turns to may genuinely want what is best for her. The issue isn’t necessarily that they are trying to take control. When a woman doubts her own judgment, she may hand that control to them because trusting what they think is easier than trusting herself.

It Starts With Decisions. It Can Become a Life.

Handing over control may begin with relatively small things. Should I go to the party? Do you think I should call him? Would you take that job? Then the decisions get bigger. “Should I move?” “Should I lend my son the money?” “Should I date this person?”

The more often someone else decides, the easier it becomes to ask them the next time. Eventually, the question is no longer simply, “What do you think?” A woman may not consciously think, “I don’t trust myself to make this decision.” She automatically asks what they think before she has even considered what she thinks. And each time that happens, she misses an opportunity to discover what she thinks, what she wants and what she is capable of deciding for herself. She doesn’t get to discover, “I chose that, it didn’t work, and I handled it.”

You Are Going to Get Some Decisions Wrong

Self-trust cannot depend on always making the right decision. Nobody gets that deal. People who trust themselves make decisions they later regret. They misjudge people. They spend money they wish they hadn’t spent. They take jobs that turn out to be terrible. They say yes and later realize they should have said no. Self-trust isn’t built by creating a perfect record of good decisions. It grows when you discover that you can make a choice, live with the outcome, learn something, adjust when necessary and choose again. Getting something wrong does not disqualify you from making the next decision.

When someone has lived with self-doubt for a long time, a mistake can feel like evidence. “See? I knew I couldn’t trust myself.” So next time, she asks someone else. And the cycle continues.

What Happens When Everyone Else Gets a Vote?

There is another cost to constantly looking outside yourself for answers. Other people can become accustomed to having a say in your life. That does not necessarily mean they are controlling people. Relationships develop patterns.

If you regularly ask your sister what you should do, she may naturally begin telling you what she thinks you should do. If you have always deferred to your adult children, they may come to expect that their preferences will be considered before your own. If a friend has spent years helping you make decisions, she may be surprised when you suddenly say, “Thanks, but I’ve decided to do something different.”

Over time, this becomes part of how the relationship works. One person is accustomed to asking for direction and the other is accustomed to giving it. Neither person necessarily set out to create that dynamic. They simply repeated it often enough that it became normal between them.

When You End Up Living Someone Else’s Version of Your Life

This may be the consequence we talk about least. If other people are continually influencing what you should do, tolerate, pursue, spend or prioritize, how do you discover what you actually want?

Imagine years of making choices based primarily on what will keep other people comfortable. You take the job your family thinks is sensible. You continue saying yes to requests because saying no feels harder than going along with what is expected. You put off something you genuinely want because someone important to you thinks it is foolish.

No single decision seems enormous, but our lives are made from thousands of decisions. One choice follows another, and over time those choices determine where you live, how you spend your time, who you spend it with, what you pursue and what you leave unexplored. You can end up with a perfectly functional life and never realize how much of it has been shaped by other people’s preferences.

That is why one question is worth asking: “How much of the life I am living did I actually choose?” You may not know the answer immediately. The purpose of the question isn’t to make you regret your life or start changing everything. It is to notice where your own voice has been missing from decisions that belong to you. And that can be the beginning of something different.

This is where it is worth becoming curious about who has the final say in your life. When you have a decision to make, do you know what you think before you ask someone else? Are you looking for information that will help you decide, or are you looking for someone to decide for you? And when someone you trust disagrees with your choice, does their disagreement change what you believe is right for you?

Questions like these can make an automatic habit visible. And when you can recognize what you have been doing, you have something you didn’t have before: the opportunity to choose whether you want to keep doing it.

That choice may also change some of your relationships. People who are accustomed to being consulted may be surprised when you begin making more decisions for yourself. They may disagree, question your choice or continue offering direction you no longer need. That doesn’t mean those relationships have to end. It means their opinion can become what it was always meant to be. Something you can consider, rather than something you have to follow.

Our past experiences can continue influencing the decisions we make long after a relationship has ended. In my article, What Do I Do With the Memories?, I explore how we can acknowledge those experiences without allowing them to determine the life we’re creating today.

The Resentment Nobody Intended

There is another strange consequence of handing decisions to other people. Sometimes we become angry with them for making them. Suppose your friend strongly encourages you to do something. You aren’t convinced, but you trust her judgment more than your own, so you agree. It goes badly. Now you are frustrated with her. “Why did she tell me to do that?”

But underneath the frustration may be something harder to admit. You didn’t really want to do it. Some part of you knew that. Now you are angry with her and disappointed in yourself. “Why did I listen?” “Why didn’t I say what I wanted?” “Why do I keep doing this?” Those questions can become more evidence in the case against yourself. This is one way self-doubt can feed itself.

You doubt yourself, so you give someone else the decision. You dislike the outcome, so you criticize yourself for giving the decision away. That criticism makes you trust yourself even less the next time. The way out is not to become someone who never asks for advice. It is to change what you do with the advice you receive.

Advice Is Information, Not Instruction

You can ask five people what they think. You can listen carefully. You can consider their experience. You can ask questions. You can learn something that changes your mind. And after all of that, the decision can still belong to you.

There is an enormous difference between asking, “What should I do?” and asking,  “What information would help me make this decision?”

The first question places the answer outside you. The second allows other people to contribute without asking them to take over. This matters in helping relationships too. A good coach, counsellor, therapist or mentor should not become another person whose approval you need.

Good guidance should help you make your own decisions. A coach, counsellor, therapist or mentor can ask questions you haven’t considered, offer knowledge, challenge an assumption or help you see choices you didn’t know were available. But ultimately, you are the person who has to live the life that choice creates. Good guidance helps you find your answer without making the decision for you.

Start With One Decision

You do not have to wake up tomorrow morning suddenly certain about everything. That would simply give self-doubt another impossible standard to meet. Start smaller.

The next time you notice yourself reaching for your phone to ask someone what you should do, wait a moment before you make the call. Instead, consider this, In an ideal world, what would I like to happen? You are not committing to anything by answering the question. You are simply giving yourself a chance to discover what you want before everyone else’s opinions enter the room.

Then you can ask, “What am I worried will happen if I make this decision myself?” That question may tell you far more than another person’s advice ever could. Maybe you are afraid someone will be disappointed, that you’ll make a mistake or that you’ll have to justify your choice.

Notice it. Question it. Then choose. Not because you are guaranteed to get it right.  Because this is your life, and you deserve the opportunity to discover what happens when you participate fully in creating it.

Once you know what you would like to happen and what you’re worried about, you can consider the realities of the situation. Gather whatever information you need and listen to the perspectives of people you trust. Their advice may change your mind or it may open a possibility you didn’t know existed. The difference is that your own preference was part of the decision from the beginning instead of something you let someone else determine.

There will still be people whose wisdom matters to you, and there will still be times when you ask for help. There will also be decisions you wish you had made differently. That is not failure. That is a life being lived.

And each time you listen to what you know, consider the information available and make your own choice, you gather something self-doubt has kept from you for far too long. Evidence.

Evidence that you can choose.

Evidence that you can change your mind.

Evidence that you can handle an outcome you didn’t expect.

Evidence that you can learn.

Evidence that you can choose again.

You do not have to know that every decision will be right before you trust yourself enough to make it. Nobody gets that deal. What you can know is that the final say in your life belongs with the person who has to live it.

You.