The Story My Mind Forgot to Update

Have you ever been complimented in a way that made you think, If they only knew me?

The first time someone described me in writing as “the most positive person I know,” my stomach lurched. I stared at the words thinking, That’s definitely not me. Vulnerable? Absolutely. Disclosing? For sure. But positive? Hmmm.

And yet, since my cancer diagnosis and my decision to share my journey publicly, that description has come up again and again. I understand why. I’ve handled my Stage 4 diagnosis with a steadiness that even surprises me at times. Still, the label feels… off. And here’s why.

For most of my life, if you had asked me to describe myself, I would have said I was a glass-half-empty kind of gal. That story took shape early (of course it did). Like many of us, I had a fun adolescence on the outside and a restless inner world on the inside. I sensed there was more to life than partying, jogging, and getting good grades, but I didn’t know what I was searching for or how to find it. Frankly, I was confused and lonely.

Instead of recognizing myself as a seeker, I gave myself a much harsher label: anxious depressive. Quite the opposite of a positive person. And once that label took hold, I carried it with me for decades.

Here’s the part that matters most: I grew and changed.

Slowly and quietly, life opened up. I married an amazing man. I became a mother. I found a spiritual path that grounded me and still does. I cultivated a community of diverse, meaningful friendships. Somewhere along the way, my inner world became far more spacious, steadier, and more life-affirming than my younger self could have imagined.

But my inner story? It remained quite outdated and comfortable in the past.

And that’s what I’ve been reflecting on lately – not positivity, but the outdated labels we cling to long after they’ve stopped being true. Our inner stories are sticky, even if they’re not accurate. They don’t automatically refresh when we grow – especially when that growth happens subtly, over time. These outdated tales shape how we see ourselves, what we reach for, and what we assume is possible, often without us realizing it.

So let me pause and ask you:

Midlife is full of these quiet transformations. Yet so many of us keep describing ourselves using language that belongs to an earlier version of us. The invitation of midlife isn’t to become someone new, but to gratefully wave goodbye to our outdated stories and release what no longer fits.For me, it’s goodbye to the glass-half-empty persona. Life is not always easy, and I’m not always upbeat. I’m releasing it because it’s no longer accurate.

What about you?

Which outdated story or label are you ready and willing to part with?
And if you do, what new description might finally tell the truth about who you are now?

Cheers to living our truth!

~Shayna