Creation Stories: How Our Beginnings Shape Who We Are
In my work as a therapist, I often find myself curious about the stories people carry about themselves—stories that have been handed down through family, culture, faith, and other formative experiences. These stories shape identity, relationships, expectations, and the possibilities we can imagine for our lives. Sometimes, especially during seasons of transition, anxiety, or significant change, we begin to notice that an old story no longer fits the way it once did.
I know something about this from my own experience. I grew up in an evangelical faith tradition with a creation story that included a strong emphasis on sin. As a rule-following good girl who was inclined to accommodate and serve others, I spent a lot of time listening for what I was supposed to do and noticing where I thought I wasn't measuring up. But as I’ve reflected over years, another creation story was there, too—a story of earth and goodness, of being born of the divine and belonging to the whole of creation. Returning to that story has changed something about how I understand myself and how I can live.
Part of the work of therapy is learning how to see the stories that have shaped us without assuming that we have to live forever inside them. We don’t necessarily have to reject our entire histories or decide that everything we were taught was wrong. Another option is to become curious about what we inherited, what those stories made possible, and what they made harder to see. This kind of inquiry isn't just intellectual. From a contemplative and somatic perspective, we can pay attention to what happens in our bodies, our emotions, and our ways of moving through the world as we encounter an old story.
For me, revisiting my creation stories has been a way to return to something that was present from the beginning but had been crowded out—the possibility that I am a good part of a good creation, connected to the earth, other people, and the divine. I don't mean that as a prescription for anyone else but as an example of what can happen when we look again at a given story with enough distance and curiosity to discover what is (or is not) alive within it. Sometimes in or alongside a story that has been limiting, there are seeds of something life-giving.
What stories are you carrying about your own beginnings? What have they taught you about who you are, what you deserve, how you belong, or what is possible? And as life changes—as it inevitably does—what could happen if you got curious how your stories serve your becoming?
I wrote more about my own experience of revisiting stories in this week’s A(t)tending to Wonder field note.
If you’re curious about counseling, I’d be honored to connect with you. I work with women who feel overwhelmed and off-balance, offering a compassionate, steady presence and joining as a collaborator to help you stay with what’s emerging in the moment and get curious about the deeper layers of your experience. Together, we experiment with small, meaningful changes that lead to different ways of being and moving through the world. My specialties include anxiety therapy, midlife growth and empowerment, and young adults and college/graduate students. You can contact me here.
Note: This blog is for educational and reflective purposes and does not constitute psychotherapy.