The Problem with Being a Meaning-Making Human: How Trauma, Unhealed Wounds, and Thoughts Distort Our Stories
We humans are wired for meaning. We want to make sense of the world, of our lives, and of our relationships. From the moment we are born, we start making sense of what’s happening around us — narrating our experiences, weaving together stories to explain who we are, who others are, and how the world works. But what happens when the meaning we create becomes distorted, when our stories are shaped not by objective truth but by trauma, unhealed wounds, and faulty thoughts?
In my work as a coach, helping women step into their empowered lives, I’ve seen countless examples of how the stories we tell ourselves are often inaccurate, incomplete, or distorted. The painful reality is that, left unchecked, these stories can keep us stuck, lost, and far from the lives we want to live. But the truth is, there is a way out. By recognising how we create meaning and how our unresolved pain colours those narratives, we can begin to unravel the stories that no longer serve us, rewriting them in ways that align with truth, healing, and growth.
The Meaning-Making Machine: A Gift and a Curse
Our ability to create meaning is one of the things that sets us apart as humans. It’s a gift that allows us to reflect on our experiences, understand our emotions, and connect deeply with others. But like any gift, it has a shadow side.
When our meaning-making is guided by unhealed trauma, it becomes a weapon that we wield against ourselves, and ultimately, others. We start to see the world, not as it is, but as a reflection of our pain. What we might call “reality” is often just a projection of our internal state — a story that has been distorted by our past experiences, limiting beliefs, and emotional wounds.
Think of it this way: imagine putting on a pair of sunglasses with deeply tinted lenses. Everything you see will be affected by those lenses, and over time, you’ll forget that the world doesn’t actually look like this — it’s just the lenses that are distorting your view. In the same way, when we view the world through the lens of our unhealed trauma, we begin to mistake those distortions for reality.
Trauma and the Stories We Tell
Trauma is perhaps the biggest culprit in warping the stories we create. When we experience trauma — whether it’s something as acute as abuse or something more subtle like emotional neglect — it leaves an imprint on our nervous system, shaping how we perceive the world and interact with others.
This isn’t just a mental or emotional process. Trauma actually changes the brain, making it hypervigilant to danger, constantly scanning for threats, and expecting harm in places where none exists. When you are living in this state, you can’t help but create stories that reflect that reality. A neutral glance from a stranger can feel like a threat. An offhand comment from a friend becomes evidence that they don’t care about you. A partner’s failure to respond to a text message turns into a narrative about abandonment.
These stories are not “real” in the objective sense, but they are real to us because they reflect the inner landscape of our trauma. We see what we expect to see, and when our expectations are shaped by pain and fear, our stories will inevitably be coloured by those emotions.
The Ego’s Agenda: How We Twist the Narrative to Fit Our Fears
Beyond trauma, another powerful force that distorts the stories we tell is the ego. Our ego is the part of us that craves certainty, control, and safety. It wants to protect us from pain and discomfort, but it often does so in ways that keep us stuck in distorted narratives.
The ego has an agenda, and it will twist reality to fit that agenda. If we have a core belief that we are unworthy of love, our ego will look for evidence to support that belief, no matter how flimsy or distorted. We’ll interpret someone’s busy schedule as a rejection, or we’ll assume that we’re being excluded when, in reality, no slight was intended.
The ego also loves to assign blame. When things go wrong, it’s easier to create a story where someone else is the villain rather than face the discomfort of our own role in the situation. And we do, always have a role. We do this to protect our sense of self, but in the process, we often create stories that are one-sided, lacking the nuance and truth that would help us heal and grow.
Our Thoughts: The Stories We Keep Telling Ourselves
If trauma shapes our stories and the ego distorts them, our thoughts are the ones that keep the narrative alive. The stories we tell ourselves become habitual, replaying over and over again in our minds until they feel like absolute truth.
But here’s the thing: thoughts are not facts. Just because we think something doesn’t make it true. Yet, many of us live as though every thought that passes through our minds is gospel. If we think we are not good enough, we believe it. If we think others are out to hurt us, we accept that as fact. But the truth is, many of our thoughts are simply habitual responses — conditioned by our past experiences, beliefs, and emotional states.
Our thoughts are shaped by the meanings we’ve created, and when those meanings are based on trauma or egoic distortions, our thoughts will reflect that. This creates a feedback loop where our distorted stories generate negative thoughts, and those thoughts reinforce the distorted stories. It’s a vicious cycle that keeps us trapped in pain and disconnection.
Becoming Attached to Our Stories: Building an Identity Around Them
One of the most profound ways we limit ourselves is by becoming attached to the stories we tell about who we are, what has happened to us, and what we’re capable of. Our stories often become so ingrained in our sense of identity that we start to build our lives around them, even when they no longer serve us — or worse, when they cause us pain.
When we cling to these stories, it’s usually because they provide us with a sense of certainty. As human beings, we crave security, and our stories — no matter how painful or limiting — offer us a familiar narrative. Even when these stories paint us as victims or reinforce feelings of inadequacy, we hold onto them because they’re known, and the unknown can feel far more terrifying. The irony is that by identifying so closely with our stories, we actually confine ourselves within them, never allowing room for change, growth, or healing.
For example, I’ve worked with women who have spent decades telling the story of how they were wronged in relationships, repeating tales of betrayal and abandonment. While those experiences were undoubtedly painful, the stories they continue to tell about themselves — “I’m always the one who gets hurt” or “No one ever shows up for me” — become part of their identity. They begin to see themselves exclusively through the lens of that story, allowing it to shape their choices, behaviours, and expectations in every aspect of their lives.
This attachment to our stories is seductive because it gives us a sense of self, even if that self is limited. We tell ourselves, this is just who I am — the person who was hurt, betrayed, abandoned, or never good enough. But in doing so, we build an identity around pain and victimhood, which keeps us anchored in the past. We come to believe that the story defines us, rather than seeing it as just one chapter of a much larger and more complex life.
The danger here is that when we build our identity around these stories, we become resistant to change. If we were to let go of the story — if we were to forgive, heal, or simply stop repeating it — who would we be? The thought of losing that familiar narrative can be terrifying, and so we cling to it, even as it keeps us stuck.
But here’s the liberating truth: we are not our stories. We are so much more than the narratives we’ve constructed around our experiences. While our stories may have shaped us, they do not define us. When we stop identifying so closely with them, we open up to the possibility of creating new stories — stories of strength, resilience, love, and transformation.
Letting go of attachment to our stories requires a willingness to face the unknown and to release the identity we’ve built around them. It’s a courageous act of self-liberation, allowing us to step into the fullness of who we truly are — beyond the trauma, beyond the ego, and beyond the limiting beliefs that have held us back.
In the end, rewriting our stories is not just about healing the past, but about reclaiming our power to define ourselves on our own terms, not through the lens of old wounds. This is where true transformation begins — when we stop being attached to our stories and start writing new ones, stories that reflect the depth, beauty, and possibility of who we are becoming.
Breaking Free from the Distorted Stories
So, how do we break free? The first step is awareness. We must become aware of the stories we are telling ourselves and recognise that they are just that — stories. They are not objective reality; they are interpretations shaped by our past experiences, beliefs, and emotional wounds.
The next step is to question the stories. Ask yourself: is this story really true? Is it the only possible interpretation of the situation? What assumptions am I making? What might I be missing? This process of inquiry can help us loosen the grip of our distorted stories and open ourselves up to new, more accurate interpretations.
Healing is also essential. As long as we are living with unhealed trauma, our stories will be coloured by pain and fear. By doing the work to heal our emotional wounds — whether through therapy, coaching, or other forms of self-healing — we can begin to shift the lens through which we see the world. When we heal, our stories become less about survival and more about growth, connection, and possibility.
Finally, we must learn to hold our stories lightly. Life is complex, and no single story can capture the fullness of any experience. When we hold our stories lightly, we allow ourselves to be open to new perspectives, to learn and grow, and to rewrite our narratives in ways that serve our highest good.
The Power of Rewriting Your Story
The beauty of being a meaning-making human is that we are not bound by the stories we’ve created in the past. We have the power to rewrite our narratives in ways that reflect truth, healing, and empowerment. This is at the heart of the work I do with women in transition — helping them to rewrite the stories that have kept them stuck in patterns of pain, disconnection, and unfulfilment.
When we take ownership of our stories and actively choose to rewrite them, we step into our power as creators of our own lives. We no longer let trauma, ego, or distorted thoughts dictate the meaning we make. Instead, we choose meaning that aligns with our values, our truth, and our highest potential.
Reclaiming Our Power
Being a meaning-making human is both a gift and a responsibility. We must be mindful of the stories we create and the lenses through which we view the world. Trauma, unhealed wounds, and habitual thoughts will distort those stories if we let them, but with awareness, healing, and intention, we can reclaim our power to create meaning that serves us rather than limits us.
As you reflect on your own stories, I invite you to ask yourself: are these stories aligned with my truth? Are they helping me grow, connect, and thrive? Or are they keeping me stuck in fear, pain, and disconnection? The power to rewrite your story is in your hands — what will you create?
In this journey of rewriting our narratives, we get to free ourselves from the outdated stories that no longer serve us. And when we do, we open the door to living our BIG lives, filled with purpose, connection, and fulfilment.
