I Took the Pen Back: How Narrative Therapy Changed My Perspective

For most of my adult life, I told myself the same story: I was a chronic overthinker, someone who always second-guessed herself, someone who needed external validation to feel grounded. That story had chapters filled with people-pleasing, perfectionism, and moments I let things happen to me rather than choosing what came next.

I thought this story was just the truth—like a fact stamped on my personality. But it wasn’t until I discovered narrative therapy that I realized: I wasn’t just living a story, I was stuck in one. Worse, I hadn’t even written most of it.

That realization changed everything.

Narrative therapy helped me take the pen back. It didn’t erase my past, but it gave me permission to reframe it—and rewrite where I wanted to go next. And the best part? You don’t need to be in crisis or sitting in a therapist’s office to start using it. This powerful approach is accessible, flexible, and one of the most empowering tools you can bring into your everyday life.

What Is Narrative Therapy?

Narrative therapy is a collaborative and non-pathologizing form of therapy that views people as separate from their problems. It was developed in the 1980s by Australian therapists Michael White and David Epston. At its core, narrative therapy invites you to examine the stories you carry—about yourself, others, and the world—and begin to question:

• Where did this story come from?
• Is it helping or harming me?
• What might a more empowering story look like?

In narrative therapy, problems aren’t seen as defining characteristics. You’re not “a depressed person” or “an anxious person.” You’re a person who is experiencing depression or anxiety—and that distinction matters.

One study shows that narrative therapy can improve self-esteem, emotional regulation, and personal agency, particularly in individuals dealing with trauma, depression, or anxiety.

But you don’t need a formal diagnosis or a massive life event to benefit from narrative therapy. Most of us are walking around with inherited narratives—scripts we never meant to adopt—that quietly shape how we think, feel, and behave.

Narrative therapy is the process of noticing those scripts, then editing (or entirely rewriting) the ones that no longer fit.

The Day I Realized I Wasn’t the Main Character in My Own Story

I wish I could say my story changed overnight. It didn’t. It started with one line in a journal: "Why do I always assume things are my fault?"

That sentence cracked something open. I started to see how often I defaulted to blame or shame. How I had internalized stories about being “too sensitive,” “not assertive enough,” or “bad with conflict.”

But those weren’t just self-judgments. They were narratives—shaped by childhood experiences, early feedback, culture, and repeated patterns. And I had been telling them to myself for so long that I forgot they were even optional.

Narrative therapy taught me how to become aware of these internal scripts. It gave me tools to externalize them, examine where they came from, and imagine new narratives grounded in truth—not just old programming.

How Narrative Therapy Works (and Why It’s So Effective)

Let’s break it down into simple, actionable parts. Narrative therapy is built on a few powerful principles that make it both accessible and deeply impactful:

1. Externalization

Instead of saying, “I am anxious,” you might say, “I’m experiencing anxiety right now.” This separates your identity from the problem and gives you room to explore it without shame.

2. Deconstruction

You begin to look at where your stories came from. Are they based on societal norms? Family expectations? One moment you’ve been replaying for years?

3. Dominant vs. Alternative Stories

We all have dominant narratives—stories we’ve repeated so often they feel like facts. Narrative therapy helps uncover alternative stories that might be more empowering but have been buried or ignored.

4. Re-authoring

This is where change happens. Once you’ve identified an unhelpful narrative, you begin to write new versions of it. You highlight your strengths, moments of resilience, and ways you’ve already pushed back against the old script.

In one clinical review, narrative therapy was shown to be especially effective at enhancing psychological flexibility—helping individuals adapt more easily to life’s challenges without being defined by them.

The Stories I Had to Let Go Of

Here are a few of the narratives I realized I had been living under—and how I reframed them with narrative therapy:

Old Story #1: “I’m bad at boundaries.”

This narrative came from years of saying yes when I wanted to say no. It painted me as someone weak or overly accommodating. But when I unpacked it, I saw that I was someone raised to value harmony—and that setting boundaries didn’t come naturally because it had never been modeled.

New Story: “I’m learning to communicate what I need, even when it’s uncomfortable. That’s not weakness. That’s growth.”

Old Story #2: “I’m not brave.”

I had internalized this based on how cautious I’d been growing up. But when I looked closer, I saw all the moments I had been brave—having hard conversations, making big life moves, leaving situations that didn’t serve me.

New Story: “My bravery may be quiet, but it’s consistent. I’ve already done hard things—and I can keep doing them.”

Old Story #3: “My needs are too much.”

This one took time. It was rooted in childhood, reinforced in early relationships, and played out in my silence around asking for support.

New Story: “My needs are valid. Expressing them isn’t a burden—it’s a bridge to real connection.”

How You Can Start Using Narrative Therapy in Your Life

Even if you’re not working with a therapist right now, you can still use the foundational tools of narrative therapy in your own reflection, journaling, or personal development work. Here’s how:

1. Notice Your Scripts

Start paying attention to how you talk about yourself. Ask:

• What labels do I use often?
• Are they true, or just familiar?
• Do they empower me or shrink me?

When you notice a story that makes you feel small, write it down. That’s your starting point.

2. Externalize the Problem

Instead of saying “I’m broken” or “I always fail,” try describing the problem as something separate from you.

Examples:

• “Self-doubt is showing up again.”
• “Comparison is taking over the narrative.”

This gives you space to respond to the issue—not fuse with it.

3. Ask Where the Story Came From

Was it something you were told repeatedly? A pattern you picked up in a specific environment? A single experience that shaped your identity?

Understanding the origin helps you challenge its authority. You don’t have to keep believing something just because you’ve believed it for a long time.

4. Look for “Thin Moments” of Resistance

In narrative therapy, “thin moments” are small actions that contradict your dominant story.

Example: If your story is “I can’t speak up,” then the time you did speak up in a meeting is a thin moment that deserves more attention.

Collect those moments. Let them become the foundation of a new story.

5. Re-author With Intention

This is where you take the pen back. Based on everything you’ve noticed, ask yourself:

• What’s a truer, more compassionate version of this story?
• Who am I becoming, and what supports that version of me?
• What strengths have I already shown that I haven’t acknowledged?

This isn’t toxic positivity. It’s narrative clarity. You’re not pretending the past didn’t happen—you’re choosing how you frame it moving forward.

Why This Work Matters (Especially Now)

We live in a culture obsessed with labels—job titles, diagnoses, online bios. It’s easy to feel like you’re stuck in a story you didn’t write. But narrative therapy offers a counter-message: You are the narrator, not just the character.

And that matters now more than ever. Whether you’re going through a transition, healing from something hard, or just feeling stuck, narrative therapy reminds you that your past doesn’t get the final say.

You do.

True Takeaways

• Your thoughts about yourself aren’t facts. They're often old stories you’ve never questioned. Start questioning.
• You are not your problems. Naming the issue as separate from your identity creates space for change.
• Even small moments of growth count. Let those “thin moments” become the bricks of your new story.
• Your story is allowed to change. You can rewrite it anytime—especially when the old one no longer fits.
• You don’t have to wait for permission. The pen is already in your hand. You just have to choose to use it.

It Means Reclaiming

Narrative therapy didn’t erase my past. It didn’t make life easier overnight. But it gave me something better: agency.

I stopped being a passive character in a story someone else wrote and became the author of a new one—still imperfect, still unfolding, but finally mine.

If you’ve ever felt stuck in a version of yourself that doesn’t feel true anymore, narrative therapy offers a path forward. It’s not about rewriting the facts—it’s about shifting the frame. Finding the courage to say, “Yes, that happened. But it’s not the whole story.”

You don’t need a dramatic backstory or a perfect recovery arc to start. All you need is a willingness to look closer at the story you’re telling—and ask what else might be possible.