The Stories We Carry

I thought I knew the story.

I was wrong.

Or maybe...

I only knew my story.

A few days ago I published a Field Journal called Why I Dance.

It was deeply personal.

I wrote about discovering dance in college... falling in love... putting my dance in my pocket... and finally taking it back out again.

Then my husband read it.

He looked at me and quietly said,

"That's not how I remember it."

I just stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

Then he told me his story.

He remembered something completely different.

Not because either of us was trying to rewrite history.

Because memories aren't recordings.

They're experiences.

They're feelings.

They're meaning.

For thirty years, I had been carrying one story.

For thirty years, he'd been carrying another.

Neither of us had ever compared notes.

And suddenly I realized...

The story I'd been telling wasn't a lie.

It just wasn't the whole story.

That conversation humbled me.

Not because I suddenly knew exactly what happened.

I don't.

I still don't remember those early conversations the way Doug does.

In fact, it breaks my heart to think I may have wounded him in ways I never intended.

I don't remember saying the words he remembers hearing.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I didn't.

Maybe it was my words.

Maybe it was my tone.

Maybe it was a look.

Maybe two young people simply misunderstood each other.

I honestly don't know.

What I do know...

is that I love him.

And he loves me.

And neither of us was trying to hurt the other.

It made me wonder...

How many stories am I carrying that aren't the whole truth?

How many memories have I quietly polished over the years until they fit the narrative I believed?

How many conversations would look different if I became curious instead of certain?

That question alone has changed me.

What if Truth is bigger than memory?

I've spent a lot of time lately writing about the difference between facts and Truth.

I never imagined I'd have to apply it to my own memories.

But maybe that's exactly where it belongs.

Maybe Truth isn't about proving who remembered correctly.

Maybe Truth is what happens when two people become safe enough to listen to each other.

Not to win.

Not to defend.

Simply...

to understand.

🌿 Sit With This...

What story have you been carrying for years...

that you've never had the courage to compare with someone else's?

Not because you're wrong.

Not because they're wrong.

But because Truth is often bigger than either one of us can see alone.

Sometimes healing begins the moment we become curious enough to ask...

"Tell me how you remember it."

🌲 Walk With Me...

One of the greatest gifts of this journey has been discovering that growth doesn't come from having all the answers.

It comes from being willing to ask better questions.

If you're ready to look at the stories you've been carrying—and discover what else might be possible—I would love to invite you to my Virtual Treasure Hunt Vision Workshop.

Because sometimes the greatest treasure isn't a new dream...

It's seeing an old story in a brand-new light.

💜 Until next time... keep coming Back to You.