“When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending.” —Brene Brown

Have you ever listened to a family member retell a story from your childhood, only to realize their version of events sound nothing like what actually happened?

I’ve often sat silently at family events, in both shock and amazement, as I’ve watched my parents paint these wonderful pictures of our past.

In their versions, there is never any pain, no tears, no screams, just one happy and fluid family experience.

In recent years, I’ve even noticed some of my sisters and brothers doing the same thing. It’s as if some of the most painful moments we endured together don’t even exist anymore. And the memories that do survive, always seem to have the little details changed in such a way that it obscures the true impact of the moment.

I’ve often wondered at their need to preserve our family story in such a light. Why is it that they feel a need to change what happened, downplay certain events, and forget others all together?

Why is it that we all had the same childhood, yet we all tell a different story?

The Family Story

In many ways, a family’s story is its identity.

A single family narrative is essential to the foundation of keeping unhealthy family legacies alive. Their survival depends on portraying the same, cohesive, story to prevent exposure, repercussions, and responsibility.

Healthy family systems can deal with contrasting opinions, hurt feelings, and disagreements. Family systems riddled with dysfunction and abuse cannot.

Parents who enforce dysfunctional or abusive family systems control or change a narrative for power, while children on the other hand, do it for protection.

My parents will often retell stories to make us look like we were the most ungrateful, horrible children put on the planet. Even with its subtle nuances, every story is designed to make us look foolish, ungrateful, or hopelessly lost.

They have a need to retell stories and construct narratives in a specific way to prevent them from having to take responsibility, or address painful situations they may have inadvertently caused.

Inconsistencies in family stories can even arise among siblings who endured the same abuse, neglect, or dysfunction together.

I’ve noticed this tendency the most with my oldest sister. She will recount hurtful moments from our past with humor, and omit other memories altogether. Even as my mom broke her things and berated her, and as my father beat her and belittled her, she always reflects my parents’ actions in the best possible light.

Our stories protect the carefully created identity we had to construct in order to survive as a child. They reflect our needs, cover our hurts, and protect us from having to face a painful past, and deal with the present damage it may have created.

Bringing up what really happened, or openly discussing the hurt behind certain memories, causes the other person in the narrative to take responsibility as the aggressor, take ownership as the silent enabler, or confront the negative feelings of having been made a victim.

In many instances, owning that type of identity may just be too much to handle for someone who isn’t dealing with the truth on their own.

Making Room for Your Story

Finding your own voice is about autonomy. It’s about creating your own identity outside of your family.

For many of us, our identity was crafted over time, within our family unit when we were young. For example, our parents may have ascribed to us characteristics like being too sensitive, too emotional, clumsy, lazy, or stupid.

These characteristics may not in truth be a reflection of who you truly are, rather, they reflect the role your parents needed you to play in order to give their story–their actions and words, legitimacy, all while taking away yours.

Taking on the traits ascribed to you by other family members may just be one way you had to learn to cope with your family situation. For many of us, like myself, we had to be what they thought we were, in order to survive.

This is why it’s important to find our own identity, outside of our family unit, especially if we came from a family system that put us down, hurt us, or abused us.

Your story is your identity. And embracing your story is one way of breaking free from the original identity given to you, to find a version of yourself that is closer to your truth, and who you really are.

Here are a few mindset techniques and practices I used to help find my voice, and make room for my story within the family narrative.

1. Choose Compassion, Not Control

Abuse affects every child differently.

The adult version of someone’s childhood story may just be a reflection of their attempts to cope with their own traumatic experiences.

You can extend compassion to other family members through the understanding that at some point in time, you were all victims.

While you have no control over what others choose to say or believe, you do have control over the amount of compassion you can choose to show toward them.

This does not mean you need to edit your story, but it means to take a deeper look at the wounded person you are dealing with.

When you hear others tell stories from your past that are vastly different from what happened, know that they are still trying to protect something that hasn’t yet healed.

2. Stop Making It A Requirement for Others to Change Their Story

A person’s story reflects their needs, and in order for their story to change, or come closer to the truth, would take a long, personal journey that you can’t start or rush anyone else through.

Stop making it a requirement for others choice of words, tone, timing, or quality of thought to conform to your needs.

A family member’s different story isn’t a betrayal of your past, it is their need to protect who they once were and who they are now.

When faced with conflicting versions, always remember that you don’t need other people’s story to change in order for yours to be any truer.

3. Set Up Boundaries

Family members who feel threatened by your story, or have the most to lose from the truth, will sometimes use family gatherings as a way to corner your opinions and belittle your feelings.

This is because it is easier for them to get their voice heard, and harder for you to stand up for yourself in a social setting that includes members who simply do not want to get involved.

Set up boundaries by exercising your right to say no to certain situations and conversations that may lead to hurt feelings.

Don’t allow yourself to feel guilted into attending family events, especially if you know there may be a high probability for drama, or a chance you may encounter a volatile situation or person.

4. Don’t Allow Others to Hold Your Relationship Hostage

Trying to maintain a relationship that is broken is an emotionally and mentally draining experience.

Stop allowing others to hold your relationships hostage with silence, anger, fear, leveraging children, mean-spirited texts, and so forth.

It may be time to thoughtfully decide which relationships in your life can withstand the differences in story, and which ones cannot. You may want something from a relationship that the other person just simply isn’t capable of giving.

Evaluate your history with the other person, and how their actions and words make you feel, to see if a mutually loving and healthy relationship is still possible or not.

5. Stop Waiting for An Explanation

I use to feel like everyone owed me an explanation.

I can’t say that I thought this exact thing verbatim, but at the height of my emotional pain, I knew deep down I wanted one. I wanted to know why my mom treated me the way she did, why my dad did the things he did, and why everyone just acted like our problems didn’t exist.

I had to accept that the answers I needed couldn’t be found in other people, and that I was going to have to find them on my own.

I started this by reading books, journaling, and by regularly attending group therapy for survivors of childhood abuse.

Stop waiting on an explanation that may never come, and begin to direct your energy toward your own personal journey of healing.

Explore different ways to express and validate your story, and become your own voice of hope, encouragement, and healing.

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When family members deny, change, or omit certain past events, it strips dysfunctional or abuse survivors, of their voice. It takes away their story. Their right to the truth. Their right to be heard, and their right to be upset, angry, or hurt. This can leave you bound to your pain longer than needed.

You don’t have to change or edit your version of events just to please others, or to feel accepted. Honor your past, represent your truth, and give meaning to your experiences by telling your own story.