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Rebuilding on Shaky Ground: Why Your ‘Before’ Story Matters

Or, “How I Traded My Yoga Mat for a Reality Check (And Why You Should Too)”

Aim: Reframe past identity and release limiting labels.

• ✅ Identify outdated roles/beliefs that no longer serve you.
• ✅ Use metaphors like “scaffolding” to honour the past without clinging to it.
• ✅ Cultivate curiosity about who you’re becoming post-crisis.

The Day I Realised “Namaste” Wasn’t Part of My Vocabulary

Let me paint you a picture:
It’s 2017. I’m wearing leggings so stretchy they could double as a parachute, standing in a yoga studio that smelled of lavender and unmet expectations. I’d decided to become a yoga instructor. Why? Because obviously, the solution to my then life crisis was to twist myself into the shape of a human pretzel and chant in Sanskrit.

Identify outdated roles/beliefs that no longer serve you.

Use metaphors like “scaffolding” to honour the past without clinging to it.

Spoiler: It went… wrong. Somehow.

My downward dog looked more like a confused caterpillar. My “ohm” sounded like a disgruntled lawnmower. And during one particularly ambitious attempt at a headstand, I accidentally kicked over a water bottle, baptising the person next to me in coconut water. (She was not enlightened.)

But here’s the kicker: I didn’t quit because I was bad at yoga.
I quit because I realised I was clinging to an identity that wasn’t mine—the “Before Me” who thought reinvention meant swapping spreadsheets for sun salutations.

Sound familiar?

Part 1: The “Before” Trap (Or, Why We Cling to Expired Identities Like Last Season’s Trends)

The Science of Sticky Labels

Humans are story addicts. We love narratives—especially the ones we tell ourselves. Research shows that our brains cling to old identities because they’re familiar, even when they’re as comfy as a wool sweater in July.

Why?

• Cognitive Dissonance: Admitting “I’m not who I was” feels like betraying your past self.
• Social Scripts: We fear others will miss the “old us” (Spoiler: They’ll adapt).
• The “Sunk Cost” Fallacy: “I’ve invested 10 years as a lawyer/mom/perfectionist… I can’t quit now!”

But here’s the truth: Your “Before” story isn’t a life sentence. It’s a chapter.

Part 2: From Yoga Mat to “You’re Gonna What?!” (A Comedy of Errors)

Back to the studio.

After my coconut water catastrophe, my instructor pulled me aside. “You’re trying too hard,” she said. “Yoga isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up as you are.”

I wish I could tell you I had a breakthrough. Instead, I cried into my kale smoothie and drafted a resignation email titled “Namaste Never.”

But that failure taught me something revolutionary:
Letting go of an old identity doesn’t mean you failed—it means you value fidelity to who you’re becoming.

My “Before Me” was a people-pleasing achievement robot. My “During Quake Me”? An ever-messier work in progress.

Part 3: Why Your “Before” Story is Scaffolding, Not a Cage

The Architecture of Reinvention

Scaffolding isn’t the building—it’s the temporary structure that helps you build your new home. Your past roles, labels, and triumphs? Same goes.

Example:

• Before: “I’m a CEO.”
• Now: “I’m someone who knows how to lead, pivot, and make tough calls… and maybe that looks different now.”
• Before: “I’m a perfectionist.”
• Now: “I’m someone who strives for excellence but embraces the process and imperfections along the way.”
• Before: “I’m a workaholic.”
• Now: “I’m someone who is passionate about my work but also values rest and personal time.”
• Before: “I’m always in control.”
• Now: “I’m someone who can navigate uncertainty and trust the journey, even when things are beyond my control.”
• Before: “I’m a people-pleaser.”
• Now: “I’m someone who values relationships but also sets boundaries and honours my own needs.”

The “Continuity Paradox”

Psychologists say humans need a sense of continuity to feel safe. But here’s the secret: You can honour your past without being chained to it.

Think of it like renovating a house. You don’t bulldoze everything down to the foundation—you save and repurpose the still-useful bits.

Your Toolkit: How to Retire Your “Before” Story (Without a Gold Watch)

Step 1: Host a “Label Funeral”

Grab your journal and:

Name the “Before” identity you’re retiring.

• Examples: “The Overachiever,” “The Caretaker,” “The Person Who Never Asks for Help.”

Write its eulogy.

• “Here lies ‘Perfect Patty.’ She meant well, but her need for control suffocated her joy. Rest in peace.”
• “Here lies ‘Critical Carl.’ His constant judgment clouded his own growth. May he find peace in acceptance.”
• “Here lies ‘Anxious Annie.’ Her worry robbed her of the present moment. May she rest in tranquility.”
• “Here lies ‘People-Pleasing Paul.’ His desire to please everyone left him with nothing for himself. May he find his own voice.”
• “Here lies ‘Procrastinating Pete.’ His delaying tactics held him back from reaching his potential. May he find the courage to act.”
• “Here lies ‘Self-Doubting Sally.’ Her lack of confidence kept her from shining brightly. May she discover her true worth.”
• “Here lies ‘Overcommitted Oliver.’ His inability to say ‘no’ led to constant overwhelm. May he find balance.”
• “Here lies ‘Comparing Clara.’ Her constant comparison stole her joy. May she find contentment in her own journey.”
• “Here lies ‘Rigid Rick.’ His inflexibility prevented him from adapting to change. May he find freedom in flexibility.”
• “Here lies ‘Fearful Fred.’ His fears kept him from taking risks and living fully. May he find courage to embrace new adventures.”

Step 2: Mine the Gems

Ask:

• “What strengths from my ‘Before’ self can I keep?”
• My hustle… but without the burnout.
• My resilience… but with more self-compassion.
• My creativity… but with structured planning.
• My determination… but with flexibility.
• My curiosity… but with focused intent.
• “What beliefs need to stay in 2024?”
• That my worth depends on my productivity.
• That perfection is the only acceptable outcome.
• That asking for help is a sign of weakness.
• That failure is final and defines me.
• That I must always prioritize others’ needs over my own.

Journal Prompts: Time to Light a (Metaphorical) Bonfire

1. “What ‘Before’ story are you ready to retire? Describe it like a quirky character in a novel.”

• Example: “The Relentless Fixer: She who wore responsibility like a crown and exhaustion like perfume.”

1. “What’s one ‘old label’ that feels as tight as skinny jeans after Thanksgiving? Why?”

• Bonus: Draw a tombstone for it. (RIP “Superwoman.”)

1. “If your past is scaffolding, what part of it will support your next chapter?”

• Example: “My resilience. My humor. My ability to learn from faceplants.”

A Pep Talk for the Nostalgic (Because Letting Go Feels Weird)

You might worry:
“If I’m not the ‘Before’ me… who am I?”

First, breathe.
Then, remember: Identity isn’t a statue—it’s a river. It’s meant to change, bend, and carve new paths.

Still stuck? Try this mantra:
“I’m not losing myself. I’m updating and upgrading myself.”

What’s Next? (Spoiler: It’s Not a Yoga Retreat)

You’ve honoured your “Before.” You’ve made good use of your scaffolding. Now what?

It’s time to renovate and rebuild.

In the next section, we’ll explore how to assemble your SOS squad—because even the most independent among us need a little backup.

But first, celebrate this:
You’ve done something revolutionary. You’ve looked your past in the eye and said, “Thank you. Next.”

P.S. Your past isn’t a cage—it’s scaffolding. Letting go of old identities is hard work, but it’s only half the battle. The Purpose Protocol helps you design a whole new identity—one that’s aligned with who you’re becoming, not who you used to be. And who do you want to be in this new chapter? How do you find meaning in everything you’ve been through? If those questions are starting to surface, The Purpose Protocol program will help you answer them—and turn your timely survival into a fresh start.