Life is Lived in our Stories

Written By: Georgia Ellis

“We live inside the stories we tell ourselves. Some build walls, others open doors.”

In the work I do, I see it every day—people feeling stuck, not because they’re lacking skill, drive or opportunity, but because they’re unknowingly living inside a story that no longer fits. These stories don’t always shout. Often, they hum quietly in the background, sounding like helpful advice: “Stay small, it’s safer.” “Don’t ask for too much.” “You’re only valued if you achieve.”

Some of these stories begin in childhood. Others take shape as adults during moments of heightened stress—after betrayal, loss, burnout, redundancy, illness, heartbreak. Our nervous system kicks in, and in an attempt to protect us, it weaves a story that helps us get through. “Don’t trust anyone.” “You’re better off alone.” “Keep going, no matter what.”
And at the time, those stories are adaptive. They keep us safe. They help us survive.

But then the moment passes. Life changes. We evolve. And the story… doesn’t.

That’s something I’ve personally experienced too.

After navigating a number of personal relationships that ended due to abandonment and betrayal, I came to realise it wasn’t so much about losing trust in others—it was about losing trust in myself.

I began to doubt my ability to make sound decisions, to sense red flags early, and to honour what I felt deep down. This new narrative flowed seemlessy across to my professional life too.

But when I really got curious, I could trace that back further.

Growing up, I didn’t always receive the kind of emotional support a child needs to develop strong internal signals. My parents did their best, and I have deep compassion for them, but there were gaps. And from those gaps, a part of me developed an intense drive for connection. Not in a dysfunctional way—but in a way that made me rush. I often moved into relationships quickly, desperate to feel emotionally held. I didn’t realise I was overriding my own inner knowing because of a quiet belief running beneath the surface: “I need connection. I need to be chosen. And I need it now.”

I’ve since done deep inner work to shift that pattern.

Over 20 years ago it was EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques) that helped me meet the younger, tender parts of myself and release the emotional charge stored in my body. With tapping, I could gently calm the nervous system and start letting go of the urgency, the shame, the fear. I began to rebuild trust—not just with people around me, but with myself. And over time it changed everything. Today I notice the urge to rush. So I paused I choose with clarity. And I became someone I could count on.

Over the last two years, I’ve also been practicing Internal Family Systems (IFS) as part of my own growth. The insights have been profound. One core belief I discovered was: “I can do this alone.” That part of me formed in my early twenties, during a time when I had to make some incredibly tough decisions without much support, and with some outdated beliefs that influenced what I would do. Being strong and independent was how I started to cope with the messiness of life.

But as I got older, that belief started to cut me off. I stopped asking for help. I stopped letting people in. I didn’t even realise I was doing it—it was just the air I breathed and I thought it was a stoic strength, a sign of true independence.

Through IFS, I met that part of me with compassion. I saw the strength it carried, and I thanked it. But I also gently let it know: You don’t have to do this all alone anymore. And from that point on, my life became more connected. I started reaching out. I built richer relationships. I let people support me. And it felt good.

This is what I mean when I say we live inside the stories we tell ourselves.

And if those stories are outdated or built in survival mode, they can quietly build walls around our potential and around the people we share life with.

But here’s the empowering part: those stories can be rewritten.

Using tools like IFS, EFT and even journaling, you can begin exploring the roots of your inner narrative. You can identify the parts of you that are still trying to protect you—even when you no longer need protecting in the same way. And you can gently help those parts update their beliefs, making space for more aligned, supportive stories to emerge.

If you’re ready to explore this yourself, here are a few gentle steps:

First, notice the narrative.

When you feel stuck, anxious, or reactive—pause and ask: What story am I telling myself right now? Is it true? Is it helpful? Is it from the present moment—or from a past version of me? (These are great journaling prompts)

Then, tune into the part that’s holding the story.

Where do you feel it in your body?
What emotion is there?
You might even ask, in your mind, “What are you afraid would happen if you didn’t hold this belief?” Just listen.

You don’t have to fix anything. Curiosity alone creates space for change.

If you’re interested in EFT, there are plenty of great resources to guide you—I’ve even recorded a podcast with an EFT expert that walks through the basics. It’s a simple yet powerful way to gently shift the emotional charge behind limiting beliefs. You can catch it here https://youtu.be/8y_UTlaO-Ew?si=tlybdWkkPK-4lk4y (or reach out for a step by step guide)

And if IFS speaks to you, you might like to begin naming your parts—just noticing them as they show up in daily life. You might hear yourself think, “A part of me feels like a failure,” or “A part of me is terrified of rejection.” That’s a beautiful beginning.

Meet those parts with kindness. Thank them. Ask them what they need.

My coaching clients often benefit from this work too. Because I’ve walked through these stories myself, I continue to draw on tools like EFT and IFS with clients when they’re needed—not as a fixed formula, but as a responsive, compassionate way to support real transformation.

These approaches, and the deeper philosophy behind them, are also thoughtfully woven through the programs I deliver—both in organisations and to the general public—because I believe that understanding the stories we live by is foundational to lasting change and living a truly fulfilling life.

You don’t need to fight your story. You just need to listen to it, understand it, and then lovingly choose to write a new one.

You are not broken.

You are brilliantly adaptive.

And you hold the pen now.

Write well!