The Lie You Still Believe

(gentle whimsical music) Headspace Studio. (gentle whimsical music) Hey, friends. It's Rosie here. Welcome to Radio Headspace and to Wednesday. So, when I first started out in wellness, I told myself I'd never be that person. You know what I mean. The speaker, the teacher, the one on the mic, front and center. I thought I'd always be someone behind the scenes. I was comfortable there. I was safe there. And I spent several years there. Today, we're going to unpack the stories we tell ourselves, especially the ones that used to be true but no longer are. It's the track or the voice that plays in your mind. You know the one. The one in your head that says, "You can't do that" or, "That's not for you." The voice that sounds suspiciously like reason but is actually fear, in a really good disguise. Sometimes, dear friends, the biggest thing holding us back isn't our ability or our timing. It's the outdated narrative looping in the background of our own mind. But what if we just X, Y, Z? Fill in the blank. Even though I was doing the work, teaching, holding space, learning from incredible mentors, I kept saying things like, "Oh, I'm not an expert." I had this perpetual script running in my mind that sounded like, "Other people do that, not me." Even after I published my book, I still felt like an imposter. I remember walking into a book event once, looking around the room and feeling like I was playing dress up. Like at any moment someone was going to tap me on the shoulder and say, "Excuse me, you don't belong here." I smiled. I signed books. I led the session, but inside I was still operating from that old script, the one that said, "You're the support person. You're not an expert." Then, after a workshop one day, a woman came up to me. She hugged me and said, "I see myself in you. Thank you for showing up like this." I don't know what it was about that moment. Maybe it was the look in her eyes. Maybe it was the sincerity in her voice. But something shifted in me. I realized I was still living by a story that was no longer true. That script served a version of me who was scared, who needed to protect herself, who didn't believe her voice mattered. But I wasn't her anymore. And yet I hadn't updated the narrative. And I realized, sometimes, what's holding us back isn't reality. It's the outdated story we keep rehearsing internally. Those stories we inherit. The ones that we wrote in survival mode. The ones we never stopped to rewrite when we started to grow. So, how do we change it? The first step is recognizing that you can, that change is possible. Here's a practice I like to do when I encounter any old mind tracks. Ask yourself, "What's a belief about myself that I've outgrown...