Imagine a child who believes they can’t draw because someone once laughed at their art. That belief becomes a part of their story, whispered by a voice in their mind: “I’m not creative. I’m just bad at this.” Over time, the story feels true, like a label they can’t shake. But what if that wasn’t the whole story? What if we could find the moments that were left out—moments where creativity still shone through—and write them into a new chapter?
This is the heart of one of the main approaches I take to therapy. It is called “re-authoring,” and it is a key component of Narrative Therapy. It’s involves looking closely at the stories we carry and noticing the missing pieces. Take a man who sees himself as “unlovable” because of failed relationships. He might revisit times when he showed deep care for others or received love from friends and family. Slowly, those moments piece together a different narrative: one of connection, compassion, and the ability to be loved.
Re-authoring doesn’t erase pain or pretend the old story didn’t happen. Instead, it expands the lens, showing that no single story defines us. Consider a woman who sees herself as “just a failure.” Through re-authoring, she recalls how, during a tough period, she found ways to keep going—small victories like asking for help or learning a new skill. She starts to see herself not as “a failure,” but as resilient and resourceful, even when life is hard.
Every story has layers. By uncovering the overlooked ones, you can begin to shape a richer, fuller narrative. You are not just the sum of your struggles; you’re also the writer of your own story. What might your new chapter say about who you are becoming?
