Unlocking Our Relationship Scripts.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the stories we tell ourselves; Narratives we create about our histories, our experiences, who we are, and who we are not.

We each have our go-to stories, ones that depict the themes of our childhood. We create coherent narratives not just to explain who we are to others, but also to understand who we are for ourselves.  We use our stories to not only connect to others, but also to connect to ourselves by creating consistent through-lines from our past to our present, and forward to our visions for the future. We order chaos into stories so the world can make more sense and life can seem more manageable. However, the aspect of narratives that has occupied my attention recently is the fact that the stories we tell ourselves are just that – stories; they are not necessarily the truth.  I believe (from what studies seem to show) stories live somewhere between 95% accuracy (and that seems to be relevant only to the very limited amount of information we actually do recall) to near complete construction. 

While some of the inaccuracy of our stories may be intentional obfuscation, especially when we “need” others to see us and our lives in a certain way, most I believe arise from a subconscious filtering and distortion of facts; an honest delusion. We interpret the world through our own filter of beliefs, needs, wants, and defenses.  Our stories are created in ways that protect us from pain, shame, guilt, or fear.  So, we see some things and not others, and what we do see is also colored by our interpretations.

We all walk around with our partially distorted stories, and these stories become our scripts, they become preconceived ways in which we learn to understand and react to the world and to those around us.

These stories have impact.  According to an article in Psych Central (Testa, 2020):

“The narrative we tell ourselves — the inner dialogue we have about who we are — impacts how we interpret and respond to our experiences and effectively cope with life’s challenges.”

Our stories dictate our experiences and our lives.  They become the lens through which we interact with the world.  The power of our stories to affect how we feel, what we decide, and how we relate to others is undeniable. The fact that we hold on to false or distorted narratives then becomes not just an important factor in our current level of happiness and wellbeing, the health of our relationships, but a pivot point to changing them. 

According to Esther Perrel, each of our stories were once “adaptive responses”.  For example, our early life situation may have made us feel, “I cannot depend on anyone but myself” and to deal with that we may have created a personal story around the idea, “I don’t need anyone – I am strong and self-reliant.”  In the future, however, holding on to our skewed narratives may no longer serve us. The story that you don’t need anyone, for example, can get in the way of creating the deep connections we actually crave. 

Our stories were created to give our lives a sense of consistency, predictability, and hence, control.  They were created to help us cope. Some of our stories, according to Testa,

“can be constructive and life-affirming, providing us with the perspective to bounce back from challenges and the resiliency to navigate life’s ups and downs.”

The problem arises when these stories that were adaptive in the past are no longer adaptive in the present and instead hinder the formation of positive life experiences.  Distorted and negative stories can,

“trick us into believing stories that aren’t true — for example, self-limiting thoughts like: “I’m not good enough”, “I always mess things up”, or “It won’t work out.” (Testa, 2020). 

As alluded to earlier in the “I don’t need anyone” example above, an area that gets deeply impacted by our stories is our relationships and our ability to form positive connections.  If our core relational experiences were less than optimal early in our lives, if we suffered early relationship traumas, we may carry negative, self-protective narratives into all our future relationships, which often work to perpetuate our expectations by repeating similar cycles.  For example, if we subscribe to the narrative that we cannot not depend on anyone, we will look for examples within all of our significant relationships to confirm that narrative (and ignore information that disconfirms it).  If we believe the narrative, “I am boring,” we may not risk speaking up, or really showing up and sharing our light, and may end up actually seeming quite boring.

Our distorted relationship scripts invariably get in the way of our ability to connect, or trust, or have different and new interactions in the present. What was once adaptive becomes the noose around our necks, the thing that strangles us, and holds us back from the life and connection we really want. 

The complexity of the impact from our relationship narratives becomes compounded when we recognize two people in a relationship often bring in two differently distorted narratives.  They each have their own relationship histories, their own relationship expectations, their own defenses and drives.  It is no wonder two people recalling the same event often have very different versions of what happened, what it meant, and how they were affected by it.  It is why one person in a partnership can feel, “you never think about me or my needs,” which the other partner can feel, “all I ever do is think about you and how to make you happy.” 

When we hold desperately on to a particular narrative because we subconsciously think it will protect us from pain and hurt, we perpetuate that same narrative in our lives over and over again.  How?  We pay selective attention to focus only on the parts of a present situation that fits with our narrative, or we interpret everything to make it fit with our old story.  Why?  Because dealing with something we know feels like we have control, and having control, even if it deprives us of what we most want in life (such as deep and meaningful connection), is less vulnerable than opening our hearts to the unknown.   By protecting ourselves from taking in new relationship experiences, we prevent ourselves even from the “possibility” of creating new relationship stories.

So how to do we release ourselves from old narratives?

Unlocking Yourself From Your Old Relationship Scripts.

Become aware of your own shit: 

The older I get, the answer to everything seems to come down to healthy self-awareness as the first step.

“We can do this by fostering greater awareness of our inner dialogue. Start by trying to observe the thoughts and emotions that arise throughout the day without judging, reacting, or engaging with them.”

Understand your history, and how it may impact you.  Look for patterns.  If everyone you are in a relationship disappoints you at some point, that may suggest the presence of an underlying narrative that no matter what, people will always disappoint.  It may have more to do with the story you tell yourself than actual reality.

Consider both can be true: 

So many of our arguments and misunderstandings with others center on different interpretations of a shared event.  In these situations, pause and take a moment to consider the ways in which the other person’s interpretation could have validity, from their history, experiences, and point of view, too.  Open yourself to the idea that both perspectives, no matter how different, can be valid (if not true) at the same time.  This becomes easier when judgement and blame are taken out of the equation and are replaced with acceptance instead. 

We all want to be right.  But we don’t have to be right to be valid.  You can be right, or you can create deeper understanding and space for each other in a relationship.  Acceptance of different perspectives without needing to prove yourself to be the “right” one gets you closer to connection.  Our job is not to convince or change the other person’s perspective or story.  The most you can do sometimes is share your own story while leaving room for another person’s experience as well.

Even though you may sometimes believe you can, you really cannot read other people’s minds. 

 You cannot know another person’s intentions; we are only valid about our own feelings, needs, and intentions.  As soon as you start to blame, interpret for someone else, or make assumptions about intention, you will lose the argument, and eventually the relationship.  Often joked about is the popular advice, “stick with I statements,” but old tricks stick because they work.  Stick to talking about what a situation made you feel, what your needs, worries, hopes, and fears are.  Also, If there are concrete things you know that can help you, share them.  In misunderstandings and arguments, we often focus on disappointments and what we don’t want instead of what could help and what we do want.  Try being constructive and say what could help you feel better.  If someone cares enough about you they want you to be happy, but like you cannot read their mind they cannot read yours.  So, tell them.  I know it feels vulnerable and “icky” to ask, but staying comfortable does not get us the life we want. 

Re-write your story, often. 

Esther Perrel suggests, “To build a new story – write often and edit well.” 

We do not have control over what happens to us, but we do have agency over how we interpret what happens.  Practice writing and rewriting your story from different perspectives over time. Our ability to interpret in multiple ways becomes a key to unlocking us from our old stories, but we have to be willing to open these new doors and walk into new unfamiliar spaces for a moment – no matter how terrifying – to give ourselves a chance at building a new narrative. As Perrel says, a new story “creates hope and possibility for change.”

Whose story is it anyway?

I wanted to share a final point; it is a realization that came to me and is the reason I wanted to write this blog.  Sometimes it truly does not matter whether or not someone sees something the same way we do.  Perhaps the more important thing to consider is, “What is my goal?”  Is it to force the other person to think differently, to convince them you are right?  This can be a frustrating exercise and one that can damage your relationship because in the end you have no power over someone else’s mind. 

If, however, your goal is to further the relationship, you need to ask yourself, how does your story serve you and serve your relationship?  Is it worth holding on to and fighting over?  If so, why is it so important to you?  Ultimately, if your relationship and connection is most paramount, perhaps your story is not what you need to focus on.  What may be most important to your goal, is actually accepting the other person’s story as the correct one. Starting there.  If your goal is an improved relationship - hear what someone is feeling and needing behind who is right or wrong and focus your energy on that. 

Let me explain with an example, if say one day your child comes to you and says, “you were always busy while I was growing up and never spent time with me.”  You could feel shocked remembering all the hours and effort you spent in chauffeuring, and appointments, and dealing with their social and school crises.  As a response you could go through the list of everything you did for your child and try to convince them you actually spent a lot of time with them. You could try to change their mind and their feelings about what happened.  That is an option.  In my experience, however, it never works. It only leaves the other person feeling unheard, invalidated, and alone.   

The point I came to realize recently was this: it truly doesn’t matter who is right if what you want is deeper connection.  Reality is often somewhere in between two stories, but what is most important to connection is taking in the other person’s experience and feelings.  The important thing in this scenario would be to open yourself to understanding your child’s experience; perhaps your child is telling you they needed you in a way they didn’t get to have you, or they have some unmet need that has become a point of pain for them.  The response in this situation that would bring you to further connection would be to validate their story and to explore their need, not to prove your story to be right.

Sometimes then, the answer to deeper connection is to put aside your story. 

I know this is hard.  It’s hard for me.  But consider there is sometimes a cost to holding on to your story, and maybe letting go, while scary, will open you up to writing a new and better one.

References:

Perrel, Esther (July, 2021).  How the Stories We Tell Ourselves Can Make or Break Us – Letters From Esther.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOujk6weKjA

Rust, Nicole. (May, 2021).  Our Memory is Even Better Than Experts Thought. Scientific American.  https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/our-memory-is-even-better-than-experts-thought/

Testa, Patrick (June, 2020). Challenging the Negative Stories we Tell Ourselves.  PsychCentral.com.  https://psychcentral.com/blog/challenging-the-negative-stories-we-tell-ourselves#1