Sharing my story heals myself and others, and at the same time I am not my story. Yes, my story is my past and has shaped who I am. I am grateful for my past. It has brought me to here. Now. This moment. Yet my story doesn’t define or shape this very moment that may someday become “my story.”
How can that be? I’ve learned from my story. I’m able to fit life’s experiences into a nicely labeled box or manila folder to be tucked away into my memory. Those lessons have been integrated and shape my view of myself and the world.
I am more than my story: than my past, than my teenage angst, than my mistakes, worries, future trips, to-do list, career, roles, and lifestyle choices. Each part is not a stand-alone entity because for this moment it’s on the front burner of my psyche.
However, as with all contradictions, each integral part is a part of me, responsible for who I am, who I was, who I will be.