The Stories We Tell Ourselves

By Susie Bennett

Published on 4 May 2026

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Understanding your thought patterns and why they matter more than you think

Here's a question worth considering for a moment: when was the last time you had a thought about yourself and just accepted it as fact?

I'm not good with money; I always say the wrong thing; people like that don't get opportunities like this; I'm too old. I'm not clever enough, I'm not the kind of person who...

We all do it, we have a thought, and before it's even fully formed, we've filed it under "truth" and started making decisions based on it. We turn down opportunities, we stay quiet in rooms where we should speak, we work twice as hard to compensate for shortcomings that exist only in our own heads, and we wonder why we feel stuck.

The thing is, our brains are not neutral observers of our lives. They are storytellers - and not always reliable ones.

Your brain is doing its job. Just not always a helpful one.

Our minds are essentially pattern recognition machines. They start from childhood, they're busy sorting experiences, drawing conclusions, and filing away rules for living. That went badly, so avoid that. That got you approval, so do more of that.

It's a genuinely useful system - it keeps us efficient, helps us navigate the world, and stops us from having to start from scratch every single morning. Still, there is a catch: those patterns were often formed a long time ago, by a much younger version of you, with a much more limited view of the world, and yet they're still running quietly in the background, shaping how you see yourself, how you behave, and what you believe is possible for you.

A child told repeatedly that they're "too sensitive" doesn't just hear it as a comment, they absorb it as a fact about who they are, an adult who failed publicly at something once can spend years quietly avoiding anything that carries the same risk of exposure, a person passed over for a promotion can spend decades believing they're simply not leadership material and then unconsciously confirm that belief by shrinking themselves in every meeting they attend.

The thought feels true - so it must be true…. Not necessarily.

Thoughts are not facts

This is one of the most important things I want you to take from this blog: your thoughts are not always facts. It is your brain's interpretation - filtered through your history, your fears, your past experiences, and a hundred other variables that have nothing to do with the objective reality of a situation.

Think about the last time you sent an important email and then spent the next hour second-guessing it, or walked out of a conversation replaying what you said, convinced you came across badly, or lay awake at 3 am with a feeling of doom, certain that something was about to go wrong.

Your brain wasn't reporting facts; it was telling you a story. A very convincing and familiar one, but a story all the same.

The problem isn't that we have these thoughts - we all do. The problem is when we don't notice that we're having them, when the inner narrator becomes so constant, so ordinary, that we stop questioning what it's actually saying.

The patterns that hold us back

Psychologists have identified a range of what they call "cognitive distortions", recurring patterns of thinking that are skewed in ways that don't serve us. You'll probably recognise some of these.

Black and white thinking. If it's not perfect, it's a failure. If one thing goes wrong, everything is a disaster. There's no middle ground, no grey areas.

Mind reading. Assuming you know what other people are thinking, and it's never good. They think you're incompetent, they're judging you, and they noticed that thing you did. Although they probably didn't, as they're too busy worrying about what you think of them.

Catastrophising. The meeting didn't go well, therefore you're going to lose the account, therefore the business will fail, therefore... The brain has a remarkable ability to go from zero to worst case in about four seconds flat.

The inner critic. That voice that narrates your failures in real time holds them against you long after everyone else has forgotten, and applies a standard to you that you would never dream of applying to someone you love.

None of these patterns makes you weak or broken. They make you human, but that doesn't mean you have to let them run the show.

What can you do?

The first and most important step is simply noticing. Not fixing, not fighting - just noticing your own thought patterns. When you catch yourself thinking "I can't do this" or "they must think I'm an idiot" or "this always happens to me", try pausing and asking: Is this a fact, or is this a story? What's the actual evidence? What would I say to a friend who was thinking this about themselves?

That last question is a surprisingly powerful one. We are almost always kinder, more rational, and more generous when we're advising someone we care about than when we're talking to ourselves.

The second step is getting curious rather than combative. It's tempting to want to wrestle your inner critic into submission, to fight the negative thoughts with positive ones, but that can feel exhausting and false. Instead, try being genuinely curious about where a thought comes from.

"Whose voice does this sound like?"
"When did I first start believing this about myself?"
"Does this thought protect me from something - and if so, do I still need that protection?"

Thoughts that have been with us a long time often served a purpose once. The work is in recognising when they've become more like a cage than a shield.

The third step is choosing your narrative deliberately. Not by pasting affirmations over things you don't believe, but by deliberately, consistently practising a different way of seeing.

"What did I handle well today?"
"What does this challenge say about my resilience?"
"What's one thing I know to be true about myself that contradicts that thought?"

Small shifts, repeated, that's how change actually happens.

It matters more than we realise

The way we think about ourselves doesn't just affect our mood on a bad day. It shapes the risks we take, the relationships we build, the careers we allow ourselves to want, and the lives we believe we deserve.

Two people can walk into the same room with the same skills and the same opportunity, and leave having had completely different experiences - not because of what happened in the room, but because of the internal running commentary they each brought with them.

That commentary is not fixed; it is not your identity, it is a habit and habits, with patience and practice and the right support, can change.

Remember - You are not your worst thought about yourself.

If any of this resonated with you and you'd like to explore your own thought patterns in more depth, I'd love to work with you. Get in touch to find out more about how coaching can help.

susie@susiebennett.com