Step 1 of Owning Your Shit
I recently posted an article about the foundations of Story Restoration™ and how it all begins with a simple but brutal truth: your story is yours to own. If you missed it, go back and read it because today, we’re diving into the first phase of this process: Owning Your Shit. Think of it as revising your life’s screenplay and deciding you’re not letting fear, excuses, or someone else’s agenda write your lines anymore. Owning Your Shit is where transformation begins.
Script rewriting and Story Restoration™ share a lot in common. Both involve identifying plot holes, eliminating bad dialogue, and aligning every scene with the bigger purpose. In life, that means confronting the excuses, fears, and patterns shaping your story and deciding, once and for all, to rewrite the script. This week kicks off a four-week series where I’ll unpack the key steps of Owning Your Shit: exposing the lies, defining the true character, reworking the catalyst scenes, and committing to the rewrite. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Today, we’re cracking open the first step: Exposing the Lies.
Imagine your life as a script. Maybe it’s a drama, maybe a comedy, or let’s be real, probably some chaotic blend of both. Now picture the parts of that script that make you cringe—plotlines that don’t make sense, characters who never should’ve made it past the first draft, and moments where you’re like, “What the hell was I thinking?” That’s where the lies live. These are the stories you’ve been telling yourself—stories rooted in fear, shame, or societal expectations—and they’re running the show whether you like it or not.
For me, exposing the lies was the hardest and most liberating part of my journey. There was a time when I was stuck in a script I didn’t even like, but I kept playing the part because it felt safer than calling “cut” and starting over. I told myself things like, “You’re not good enough to make it on your own,” or “People will think you’re a fraud if you try something new.” They were all lies! But they felt real because I’d been rehearsing them for years.
Exposing the lies starts with acknowledging the bullshit you’ve been feeding yourself. This isn’t about beating yourself up—it’s about getting honest. What stories have you been clinging to because they’re familiar? Maybe it’s the “I’m too old” narrative or the classic “I’ll do it when I’m ready” excuse. Whatever your script looks like, this step is about dissecting the parts that don’t work and shining a light on what’s been holding you back.
Let me give you a real-life example. Years ago I worked in Hollywood, on the creative side, as a writer and artist. I continually played it safe by creating what I thought everyone wanted me to, often ignoring my creative instincts. This felt constricting and inauthentic, neither of which encouraged creativity. It wasn’t until I looked inward to expose the lies I was living that I realized the story I’d been telling myself was full of plot holes. The truth was, I was scared. Scared of failing, scared of judgment, and scared of rewriting a story that felt “good enough” at best. But here’s the thing: good enough is never good enough. Not for a life worth living.
Let’s take this idea into the world of Hollywood. Remember Star Wars: A New Hope? You might know it as the epic space opera that changed cinematic history, but its original screenplay was a mess. Early drafts of George Lucas’s script were confusing, overloaded with jargon, and lacked emotional resonance. It wasn’t until Lucas brought in additional writers and embraced a relentless rewrite process that the script transformed into the iconic story we know today. Characters were refined, motivations clarified, and clunky dialogue reworked. The result? A blockbuster that not only launched a franchise but redefined the industry. The lesson here is simple: even the best stories start as rough drafts. It’s the willingness to expose flaws and rewrite with intention that makes the difference.
So, how do you expose the lies in your script? Start by asking yourself these questions:
What’s the story I’ve been telling myself about why I can’t change?
Whose voice am I hearing in my head, and is it even mine?
What’s the payoff for staying stuck? (Because let’s be real, there’s always a payoff.)
What’s the cost of not changing?
Write it down. Speak it out loud. Hell, shout it into the void if you need to. But don’t let those lies fester in the dark. Once you name them, they lose their power. That’s when the real work begins.
Exposing the lies isn’t a one-and-done thing. It’s a process. Every time you hit a roadblock, every time fear creeps in, every time you catch yourself slipping back into old patterns, you’ve got to call it out. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes it feels like you’re ripping your life apart at the seams. But trust me when I say this: it’s worth it.
I’ve rewritten my life’s script more times than I can count. Each time, it started with dissecting the parts that weren’t working and exposing the lies I’d been living. And while the process never gets easier, it does get clearer. You learn to spot the lies faster. You get better at calling yourself out. And eventually, you start to see the power in owning your shit—all of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Next week, we’re diving into step two: defining the true character. This is where the protagonist (that’s you) starts to take shape, stripped of the masks, roles, and expectations that have been weighing you down. But for now, your job is simple: expose the lies. Start rewriting your script, one line at a time, and get ready to own your story like the badass you are.