The Meaning I Made: Finding My Part in What Wasn’t My Fault
Why healing requires getting curious about the stories we tell ourselves.
What Does It Really Mean to Heal?
Healing isn’t about erasing the past — it’s about understanding the stories we’ve told ourselves because of it.
When I was 23, in early recovery from bulimia (and, if we’re being honest, also from perfectionism, anxiety, and chronic self-doubt), I was asked to do something that changed my life: write my fourth step — a gnarly, soul-searching exercise in the 12-step recovery program designed to surface old resentments and uncover patterns beneath them.
The assignment seemed simple enough: list the people who hurt me, describe how, and then, the hardest part — explore my part in the resentment.
At first, I thought it meant taking blame. What I eventually learned was that it meant taking back my power.
Naming the Pattern: Seeing My “Part”
I listed childhood friends, teenage exes, and eventually, my father — the biggest “resentment” on my list.
Through the process, I learned that my “part” wasn’t about blame or deserving mistreatment. It was about understanding the role I played in repeating certain dynamics, and more importantly, the meaning I made from them.
For instance, in second grade, I kept chasing friendship with a girl who didn’t want me around. My “part” was in ignoring the people who did. I wasn’t responsible for her cruelty — but I could see the story I’d internalized: that belonging required chasing people who didn’t want me.
This small revelation opened a new layer of compassion — for her, for myself, for all of it.
When the Assignment Got Hard
But then came the hardest name on the list: my father.
My dad was brilliant, volatile, and profoundly wounded. He could be tender one moment and terrifying the next. His comments about my body, my appetite, and my femininity shaped me in ways I couldn’t see for years.
When I was asked to identify my part in those wounds, I felt enraged. How dare anyone suggest I played a role in that? I was a child.
And yet… something in me couldn’t let the question go. Maybe it was stubbornness, or maybe intuition — but I sensed there was something important waiting in that question.
A New Definition of “My Part”
Finally, after weeks of wrestling, I asked my mom — a long-time 12-stepper — for guidance.
She listened, then said the words that cracked something open in me:
“You aren’t responsible for what he did. Your part isn’t about what happened — it’s about the meaning you made from what happened.”
I sat with that for a long time.
The meaning I made.
It wasn’t about blame — it was about reclamation.
The Meaning I Made
At my mom’s kitchen table, I began writing a list — not of events, but of meanings I’d unconsciously carried from childhood:
The smaller and fitter I am, the more lovable I am.
My hunger is dangerous and must be controlled.
Men are dangerous; femininity is unsafe.
If I’m hurt, I must have done something to deserve it.
Being attractive makes me less intelligent.
Desire equals danger.
These weren’t truths — they were the stories I’d made from pain.
And realizing that meant I could choose differently. I could rewrite them.
Why Meaning Matters in Healing
Much of our ongoing suffering doesn’t come from what happened to us — it comes from the meaning we made of it.
That meaning becomes the lens through which we live: the clothes we wear, the boundaries we set, the partners we choose, even the way we nourish ourselves.
When I began to see these meanings for what they were — inherited beliefs, not personal truths — I started to experience genuine freedom.
Healing, I realized, isn’t about changing the past. It’s about changing the story we tell about it.
Recovery as Reclamation
Recovery meant noticing when those old meanings reappeared and learning to challenge them in real time.
It meant letting myself buy a lacy bra — not because I needed to prove anything, but because I wanted to. It meant choosing meals that nourished rather than punished me. It meant reclaiming my femininity, my voice, and my body as mine.
My father’s behavior no longer defined me — but the meaning I had made of it almost did.
My healing was not about forgiving him. It was about forgiving the story I’d been living by.
Freedom begins when we question the meaning we’ve made of our pain.
We can’t rewrite what happened — but we can reclaim what it means about us.
That’s where healing starts.
Reflection for You
Have you ever noticed a story you’ve been telling yourself about something painful — and realized you could rewrite it?
Take a few moments to ask yourself:
What meaning did I make from that experience?
Is that meaning true — or just familiar?
What would freedom look like if I chose a new meaning today?
About Mollie Birney
Mollie Birney is a Clinical Coach, speaker, and writer devoted to helping people find freedom from the internal noise that keeps them stuck. Through her signature frameworks — including The Freedom Coursebook and Making Your Mind a Safer Place — Mollie helps clients bridge psychology and spirituality to create real, sustainable transformation.
