Universal deadlines and why it’s never to late to re-write your story
On Sunday I spent the day with my mumma.
It’s getting harder for her to do things now, so I’m spending as much time with her as I can. We ate cheese on toast, looked at old photos and we told each other stories. Things we’d never shared with each other ’til now, fears, worries, things that made us happy and together, slowly and tentatively, we began to re-write our story.
As a badass book writing coach, I know the power of storytelling. It’s the way we’ve all connected and shared our lives with each other since the beginning of time. We’re all storytellers. We tell stories to ourselves, and to the people around us, every single day. It’s our narrative. As we experience life, we ‘tell’ it. We share almost every event that happens to us, whether it’s as an anecdote or complaint, an amusing over-dinner story or told purposefully and with interpretation in a blog post, or in the pages of a book. What we tell is totally subjective, we choose the words, the tone, and the attitude. So by choosing our narrative, we define the experience. In fact, our entire reality is defined by the stories we choose to tell.
If we choose to tell empowering, uplifting and creative stories about our lives, well, that can be freakin’ awesome. Sometimes, however, we can get stuck in stories that don’t serve us. Regardless of the actual truth in these stories, if we tell them often enough, eventually they become our reality. A self-fulfilling prophecy. But, in the same way that we have crafted our current narrative, we have the total power to rewrite our story too.
Y’see, til about 3 years ago, the story of my mumma and I was pretty much written. I blamed my mum for leaving me when I was 13, and pretty much every bad thing that’s ever happened to me since then, has been her fault. End of story. Now this particular story – short, lacking in depth and without any kind of character development – is one I’ve been telling for the last 20 years. But recently, with the news of her terminal illness, I’ve realised that this was simply, what I call in my coaching practice, a ‘shitty first draft’. This particular story, if it were to have power and meaning, needed a re-write, a hefty edit and a two person perspective, because this is most definitely not how I wanted this particular story to end.
The universe/divine/ spiritual homegirl had set us a deadline – and there is nothing that kicks a writer-girl’s ass like an impending deadline – so together, we’ve started to re-write our story.
There’s nothing like a deadline to help you prioritise your writing practice – what’s important? What no longer serves me? You have to challenge your story and let go of the bits that you really might like and have grown rather attached to, in order to gain super-clear clarity. Blaming my mum for pretty much everything meant that I didn’t have to take a look at myself in the mirror, I liked that. But in the re-writing of this story, I’ve had to cut the bullshit, drop the flowery prose, the endless things I’ve continually blamed her for, and simply tell my truth. I hurt, I felt alone, I felt unloved.
Then I listened.
I listened to why my mumma left, why it broke her heart to leave me, and her hope of all hopes that one day I would understand why she had to do it. I’ve also discovering new things that enrich and add layers to my own personal story, simply by connecting with hers. How hard I was to conceive, that I was a total blessing, that there’s not a day goes by when she’s not proud of me, that she did the best she could with the tools that she had. These are new additions to my life manuscript that give it light, love and a softer texture.
Remember those stories you read as kid where you get to choose the ending? Our lives can be like that, too.
We can’t control everything that’s happened in our lives, but we can chose how we respond and react to them. So if there’s things you’ve always wanted to do, climb a mountain, write a book, rock out in a band, forgive a family member, dance in the rain, don’t let your current story hold you prisoner. As long as we live and breathe, it is never too late to redraft our narratives and choose a different ending.







I’m so glad you two had the chance to re-connect. I’m sending you all my love x
this is so true. i lost my mum to cancer 6 years ago. we had a year during which we knew her time was limited, and during that time – the long days of chemo, the fine days in richmond park, and the short, last days, we rewrote our story. having both fought so hard to make the other one hear for the 37 years prior to that final year, we changed to listening. the fight ended, and the acceptance, the growth and the importance of the other crept into our relationship bringing peace and a new level of love and admiration.
How lovely Lisa. So glad for you both! Alice G xx
Wow, powerful stuff. I hope you are going to share this wider at some point in the future. Now I need to find the tissues. xxx
I can really relate to this- I went through some pretty awful PTSD from a bad start in life and my Mum and her husband couldn’t deal with me and reacted badly to me, so I just emotionally cut them both off so I could heal.
It’s 10 years later and I’m still sitting on those feelings of resentment towards my Mum. I didn’t really know my Mum until I was 13, and I have such a strong need for my Mum from my childhood without her that I couldn’t reconcile the conflicting feelings of needing her and wanting her, and feeling angry at her. In my situation, my Dad is dying and I’m watching the same thing play out again with him. My feeling shad reached a point where I felt like I needed to let go of them and change, but I was reluctant while my Dad was ill, but it accidentally tumbled out last time I was home, and it broke my heart to tell her how resentful I was over everything, but how I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. She told me they just didn’t know how to deal with me, which was horrible, but it’s a fact I needed to know. I’m hoping the healing will start now. Thanks for sharing your story xx
This made my eyes water.. love you x
What an amazing peice of writing and so true. I had a very similar exsperience with my father when he was diagnosed with a terminal illness two years ago. I had spent years being furious at him for not playing any real role in my childhood but eventually as you say I stopped trotting out the same old story and we reconciled in a very powerful meaningful way which heped me enormously when he passed away, Thankyou for writing this. Its wonderful.
Beautiful piece of writing Miss L, please enjoy these precious moments with your Mum and I am glad you have found peace of sorts with your childhood experiences xxxx
I lost Dad when I was 13, Mum when I was 31, there was a terrible symmetry in that, and I miss them both every day. I’ve had to do some rewriting too. Bless you and your mumma. She will live on in you. Have an amazing day, laughter and tears, on the 21st.
I lost my Mum to cancer 3 days after you wrote this post. We never got to clear the air or talk about her ‘story’, and that will always make me sadder than I could have thought. I am sorry that you and your Mum are having to go through this, but I’m happy that you are making it such a positive event. Big Love and Hugs, Eba.