You Don't Have to Believe Every Thought You Think | Becoming Transformation Coaching
What if the story you're telling yourself isn't the whole truth?
Have you ever sent someone a text, waited for a response, and started wondering what their silence meant?
I have.
Not long ago, I sent a message and didn't hear back. Before I knew it, my brain was filling in the blanks.
She's changed her mind.
She's probably not interested anymore.
Maybe she just doesn't know how to tell me.
And then my brain offered an even bigger conclusion:
This happens to me all the time.
Really, Brenda? All the time?
Here's what I actually knew: I'd sent a text, and I hadn't received a response yet.
That was it.
Everything else was a story my brain had created to explain the silence.
Now, maybe one of those explanations would eventually turn out to be true. But at that moment, I didn't have enough information to know.
And yet, if I wasn't paying attention, I could have reacted to that story as though it were a fact.
Sound familiar?
Our brains are constantly trying to make sense of what's happening around us. They connect dots, recognize patterns, fill in missing information, and offer explanations.
Sometimes those explanations are helpful.
Sometimes they're accurate.
And sometimes they're just the first story our brains could come up with.
You don't have to believe every thought your brain offers you.
That doesn't mean ignoring your thoughts or pretending your feelings aren't real. It means getting curious before allowing an interpretation to make decisions for you.
Here are four questions I find helpful.
1. What do I actually know?
This is one of my favorite questions because it helps separate what happened from what we've decided it means.
Someone doesn't respond to your message.
A coworker seems unusually quiet.
Your boss follows up on a project.
A friend cancels plans.
Those are events.
But our brains are quick to add meaning.
They're upset with me.
I must have done something wrong.
They don't trust me.
I'm not important to them.
Maybe. But maybe not.
There's a difference between what happened and what we believe happened.
And that difference matters, because the meaning we assign to an experience often influences how we feel and what we do next.
The next time you notice yourself reacting strongly to something, try asking:
What do I actually know?
Not what do I suspect.
Not what am I afraid might be true.
Not what has happened before.
What do I know right now?
You might discover that you have fewer facts than you thought.
That's not a problem. It's an opportunity to get curious.
2. What evidence might I be overlooking?
Once we've formed an opinion about something, it's surprisingly easy to notice everything that supports it.
And overlook everything that doesn't.
Imagine thinking, I'm terrible at following through.
Your brain can probably produce a pretty convincing list of unfinished projects, missed deadlines, and good intentions that didn't turn into action.
But is that the whole picture?
Have you ever followed through on something difficult?
Have you kept a commitment when it mattered?
Are there situations where following through comes more naturally?
What was different about those situations?
I often find myself asking clients, “How true is that?”
Because so often, a statement that sounds absolutely true becomes a little less certain when we start examining it.
Maybe you struggle with follow-through in some areas.
Maybe you need a different system.
Maybe you're exhausted.
Maybe you're holding yourself to an expectation that doesn't fit your actual life.
We don't know until we get curious.
And here's something important: we're not looking for evidence that proves you're wonderful at everything.
We're looking for a more accurate picture.
Sometimes the evidence confirms that something needs attention. That's useful information, too.
But a more accurate picture gives us more options than a sweeping statement like I'm just bad at this.
3. Who decided that about me?
Some of the stories we carry have been with us for so long that we don't remember where they came from.
I'm too sensitive.
I'm not creative.
I'm bad with money.
I'm not a leader.
I talk too much.
That last one is personal.
When I was in fourth grade, I was in a classroom shared by fourth and fifth graders. While the teacher worked with one grade, the other grade was supposed to work independently.
I was curious about what the fifth graders were learning.
I also happened to enjoy talking to the people around me.
As you might imagine, I got redirected more than once.
Somewhere along the way, I picked up the idea that I was talkative and disruptive. That I talked too much.
And for years, I carried that description of myself.
Recently, I started looking at that experience through a different lens.
What if I wasn't simply a disruptive kid?
What if I was also a curious, extroverted kid who loved learning and being around people?
Now, let's be clear. That doesn't mean I should have been talking while the teacher was teaching.
There was a behavior that needed correcting.
But a behavior that needs correcting isn't the same thing as an identity that needs fixing.
That's a distinction I wish more of us understood.
You can learn to listen more carefully without deciding you're an inconsiderate person.
You can improve your financial habits without making bad with money part of your identity.
You can learn a new skill without first deciding there's something wrong with you for not knowing it already.
Growth and worth are not the same thing.
So here's a question worth sitting with:
What's a label you've been carrying that might deserve another look?
And who decided it was true in the first place?
4. What possibility have I already ruled out?
This is where things get especially interesting.
Because the stories we believe don't just affect how we interpret the past.
They can influence what we're willing to consider for the future.
I've never been good at that.
I'm not the kind of person who does things like that.
I tried something similar once, and it didn't work.
That's just how I am.
Sometimes those statements sound like self-awareness.
But sometimes they're conclusions we've stopped questioning.
For years, I said I was afraid of heights.
Then my daughter got older and started enjoying climbing adventures. I wanted to share those experiences with her.
So I started questioning something I'd always said about myself.
Was I actually afraid of heights?
Or was I afraid of falling?
That distinction changed things.
I discovered that when I felt secure—tethered into a harness or safely buckled into a roller coaster—I could enjoy experiences I'd previously ruled out.
I didn't have to become fearless.
I didn't have to pretend there wasn't any risk.
I just needed to understand my fear more accurately.
And suddenly, I had choices I hadn't seen before.
That's what can happen when we stop treating every thought as the final word.
We begin to see possibilities that weren't visible through our old assumptions.
It doesn't mean every possibility is right for us.
It doesn't mean every dream needs to be pursued or every fear needs to be overcome.
It simply means we get to make a more informed choice.
Curiosity Creates Room for Choice
If there's one thing I'd love for you to take away from this, it's that questioning your thoughts isn't about being critical of yourself.
It's about being curious.
You don't need to argue with every thought.
You don't need to replace every uncomfortable feeling with a positive affirmation.
And you certainly don't need to get everything figured out today.
Sometimes you just need to notice the story you're telling yourself and ask a better question.
What do I actually know?
How true is that?
Who decided that?
What else could be true?
Those questions won't always give you an immediate answer.
But they can create a little space between what happens and what you decide it means.
And in that space, you may discover a choice you didn't realize you had.
That's part of what I mean when I talk about traveling lighter.
Sometimes the weight we're carrying isn't the experience itself. It's the meaning we've attached to it, the label we've accepted, or the conclusion we've been dragging into every new situation.
What might happen if you set one of those stories down long enough to take another look?
You might discover there's more to the story.
And maybe more possibility ahead of you than you thought.
Want Some Company Asking Better Questions?
Sometimes it's hard to see our own assumptions because we've been looking through them for so long.
That's one of the things I love about coaching.
You bring a situation, a decision, or a question you've been circling. I bring curiosity and some questions you may not have thought to ask.
Together, we explore what you're seeing, what you might be missing, and what choices could be available.
If that sounds helpful, I'd love to invite you to Try a Coaching Conversation.
No pressure to have it all figured out. Just a meaningful conversation and a chance to see what we discover together.
Brenda Bauer | Becoming Transformation Coaching
Helping people become free to become all they were created to be.
