Who You Are Is What You Remember — So Tell a Better Story
Because you’ve lived enough pain, you’ve earned a new plot
Most people spend their lives trying to forget or ignore their past,
as if the goal is to store away the parts that hurt and never open the box again.
But Eduardo Galeano saw it differently. He said we’re not made of atoms; we’re made of stories.
That means your memories aren’t just baggage. They’re blueprints.
They show what mattered to you, what shaped you, and what you’ve fought to keep alive.
When you forget that you’re made of stories, life becomes a countdown. Just days to get through instead of moments to grow through.
But when you choose to remember on purpose, you start noticing patterns, lessons, and the quiet reasons behind your struggle.
Because you’re not just the person who survived.
You’re the one who decided what that survival means.
Stories Are the DNA of Who We Become
Every day, something in you ends and something new begins.
How you describe those changes, to yourself or to others, decides what stays alive inside you.
Galeano’s idea that “we are made of stories” isn’t just poetic; it’s psychological.
Researchers call this narrative identity: the belief that we become who we are through the stories we tell about our lives.
The parts you choose to highlight, the meaning you attach to them, and the patterns you notice all shape how you see yourself and what you believe is possible.
Psychologist Dan McAdams found that people build their identity through an evolving inner story that connects their past to their future. Those who see growth or meaning in their story tend to feel more grounded and resilient (McAdams, 2001).
Why What You Remember Matters
1. The story needs to make sense
People who can organize their memories into stories that feel coherent, where events connect and make emotional sense, tend to feel better emotionally. It’s not just the act of remembering; it’s how you remember that matters.
Psychologist Jonathan Adler discovered that when people reflect on their experiences and find meaning or growth in them, their overall mental health improves (Adler, Skalina, & McAdams, 2008).
“It’s not time that heals—it’s the story you build around it.”
2. Some moments define us more than others
We all have certain memories that hit harder, moments that shaped how we see ourselves.
These are called self-defining memories, and they act like landmarks in your emotional landscape.
When you revisit those memories with curiosity instead of criticism, they can shift from being heavy to being helpful.
Psychologists have found that when people tell these defining stories through the lens of courage, love, or growth, they tend to feel more confident and emotionally grounded (Singer, Blagov, Berry, & Oost, 2013).
In short, the way you tell your story changes what it does to you.
3. Agency changes the story and the storyteller
When you tell your story as someone who responded instead of someone who was crushed, your brain rewires around possibility.
It’s a small shift with big power.
You stop being the victim in your own narrative and start being the author.
And when your story includes redemption, when the pain leads somewhere, teaches something, or softens you instead of shutting you down, you start to heal on a deeper level.
That’s what psychologists call a redemptive story: one where hardship becomes meaningful. It doesn’t erase pain; it gives it a purpose. It says, “This hurt mattered, and I grew because of it.”
Research shows that stories told with both agency and redemption, where people turn suffering into strength, predict long-term increases in happiness, health, and purpose (McLean, Pasupathi, & Pals, 2007; Bauer, McAdams, & Pals, 2008).
Why This Matters for AuDHD Minds
For autistic and ADHD individuals, storytelling hits differently.
Our brains don’t always file memories in neat, linear folders. We experience the world in snapshots, sensory impressions, and emotional echoes, which can make our stories feel scattered or unfinished.
That’s not a flaw. It’s just a different operating system.
Many of us were told our stories were “too much,” “too detailed,” or “too emotional.” Over time, that can train you to mute your own narrative, to downplay the moments that shaped you because others didn’t understand them.
But when you learn to organize your experiences your way, through patterns, metaphors, or the sensory details that stick, you reclaim the meaning others missed.
You start connecting the dots between your intensity, your curiosity, your sensitivity, and realize it all makes sense together.
For the AuDHD mind, storytelling is self-regulation and self-definition in one.
It helps translate experiences that might otherwise stay trapped as emotion or chaos into something coherent and compassionate.
Telling your story isn’t about performing; it’s about integration.
It’s how scattered pieces start to belong to the same person: you.
Need guidance creating a kinder, more empowering story…
Try This
Think of a memory you revisit often, one you usually tell as proof that you’re broken, unlucky, or too late.
What did that experience teach you?
What strength helped you survive it?
If you had to title that chapter now, what would you call it?
How can you retell it so it sounds less like a curse and more like a foundation?
Write it down. Rewrite it. Tell it out loud if you have to.
Because every time you tell your story with a little more honesty and compassion, you remind yourself that you’re not stuck repeating the past—you’re rewriting it.
Final Thought:
Life isn’t measured by how many days you’ve lived.
It’s measured by what remains after those days are gone,
the stories you leave behind in other people’s hearts.
Thanks for being you,
Brian
💬 If this spoke to you…
Stories connect us because they remind us we’re not alone in the mess or the meaning.
If this one resonated, share it with someone who might need to remember they’re more than what they’ve survived.
And if you’d like more writing like this — stories, tools, and reflections that help you make sense of the AuDHD mind — subscribe below so you don’t miss what’s next.
References
Adler, J. M., Skalina, L. M., & McAdams, D. P. (2008). The narrative reconstruction of psychotherapy and psychological well-being. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 94(4), 836–848.
McAdams, D. P. (2001). The psychology of life stories. American Psychologist, 56(3), 205–217.
Singer, J. A., Blagov, P., Berry, M., & Oost, K. M. (2013). Self-defining memories, scripts, and the life story. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 17(4), 462–478.
McLean, K. C., Pasupathi, M., & Pals, J. L. (2007). Selves creating stories creating selves: A process model of self-development. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 11(3), 262–278.
Bauer, J. J., McAdams, D. P., & Pals, J. L. (2008). Narrative identity and eudaimonic well-being. Journal of Happiness Studies, 9(1), 81–104.*
The Meaning of Life as You’ve Never Heard It Before | Eduardo Galeano. (n.d.). YouTube.