How to Retell Your Story: Empower Yourself with The Artist’s Way

For years, I carried stories about my past as proof of what was wrong with me. They sat heavy on my shoulders and kept me stuck. These stories became the foundation of so many negative narratives about myself; narratives that made me feel small, stupid, worthless, guilty and full of shame.

We all carry our stories. We all remember the moments that shaped us, the ones that left their mark. But what if all this time, you’ve been telling your story from the wrong point of view? What if you could change the narrative? Not by changing what happened, but by changing how you honour yourself in it?

I want to introduce you to a concept that changed my life: the Honour Story.

I stumbled across it in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, and it stopped me in my tracks. An honour story doesn’t sugar-coat the past. It doesn’t turn it into some neat little life lesson. It doesn’t ask you to be positive, “over it,” or grateful for the pain - you won’t find any spiritual bypassing here.

What it does do is this: it lets you tell your story without making yourself the villain. It puts you back in your own corner so you can see what actually happened, what you really felt, and how you survived it. This is where you reclaim your power.

A lot of the stories we carry were formed when we had little choice, little power, little support. We did the best we could. And then we carried the conclusions forward like they were facts.

But enough theory, let's get into it.

Let me give you a front-row seat to my own messy old story, and how it changed when I told it differently.

The story I carried

At school, I was the kid who didn’t belong.

I wasn’t allowed flute lessons because my hands were “too big.” And then, I wasn’t allowed cello lessons because my hands were “too small.”

True story.

I felt invisible, like there was no space for me anywhere.

I didn’t put my hand up in class. I didn’t answer questions. I kept my head down and hoped no one would notice me.

I was made to sit at the “thick kids’ table,” day after day, watching everyone else get picked for things I wanted, hearing whispers and jokes I didn’t understand, and feeling that familiar knot in my stomach telling me: you’re not clever, you’re not worth it, you’ll never amount to anything.

That story followed me home.

It followed me to exams, to friendships, to the choices I dared to make.

I grew up thinking that being quiet, small, and invisible was safer, and somehow, that became the version of myself I carried for years.

I carried this narrative into adult life.

For a long time, I had dreams, but I didn’t think I was worthy of them. I only applied for jobs I thought I might get—shop work, cleaning, laundry. My self-worth was tied to who I was dating.

The honour story

Then something shifted. Maybe it was the death of my father. Maybe it was becoming a mother. Maybe it was just finally done believing the lies I’d been told.

I started to give myself permission to exist, to love myself, to question what I believed back then.

The truth? I was just a kid doing my best in a system that didn’t fit me. My hands weren’t the problem; the rules were. My shyness wasn’t stupidity; it was survival. I was learning to protect myself. I was learning resilience, patience, and quiet strength.

And look at the life I’ve built since: I’m self-employed, doing work I love, serving people, and I made all of it happen myself. I have a home I adore, a family I cherish, and a library I always dreamed of.

I sing live in front of people. That kid at the thick kids’ table? She was worthy all along. The story I told myself for years? The one that made me small? It doesn’t run me anymore.

Your turn

That’s my story. Yours will be different, but the pattern is the same. You’ve been carrying stories that made you feel small, invisible, or not enough.

And the worst part? Most of those stories aren’t even true. They’re conclusions you drew at the time, and you’ve been living by them ever since.

The good news? You can tell your story differently. You can reclaim your power. You can write your own honour story.

How to write your own honour story

1. Pick a story that still makes you feel small, ashamed, or stuck. Could be school, home, work—anywhere you felt unseen.

2. Write it exactly as you believed it at the time. No filters, no softening. Feel it. Let it out.

3. Identify the false conclusion. What did you tell yourself that wasn’t true? What rules, judgments, or expectations shaped that belief?

4. Retell it with yourself included. Name what you felt, what you needed, and how you survived. Keep yourself visible.

5. Close with the truth you want to carry now. This isn’t about fake positivity—it’s about reclaiming your perspective. That story no longer defines you.

Your old stories don’t run the show anymore. You don’t need to prove yourself, earn anyone’s approval, or shrink to fit. You can tell the story differently, put yourself back in your own corner, and finally see the truth: you were always worthy.

Do you have an honour story that you would love to share? I would love to hear it! Put it in an email ans send it to: lawzie@luckylawzie.com

Remember - you create your narrative.

If this exercise hit you, take it to the next level. Join The Artist’s Way Online Course in February 2026, and learn how to keep telling your story on your terms—no BS, just real work that works.