How we relate to our thoughts matters: My story.

What we think plays a powerful role in how we feel—both physically and mentally—and, in turn, how we behave and experience the world around us.

We have thousands of thoughts each day, many arising quietly and almost unnoticed. Yet these thoughts shape our internal landscape: how our body feels, how we respond emotionally, and how we move through life.

But have you ever wondered: How many of our thoughts are actually based in fact? How many are truly 100% true from beginning to end?

Through my own mindfulness practice, I’ve discovered the answer: not many.

When we react to our thoughts as though they are absolute facts, it makes sense that we become stressed, anxious, overwhelmed, or exhausted. Our body responds to the story our mind is telling as if it is happening right here, right now.

The good news is that this cycle is not fixed. Each thought presents an opportunity for awareness—without judgment—and an invitation to relate to it differently. Thoughts are not who we are. They are simply mental events, meant to arise and pass.

What we Practice Grows:

What we pay attention to, and what we repeatedly practise, grows.

When we become overly focused on a thought because of its association with an uncomfortable bodily sensation—perhaps one we judge to be an unpleasant emotional state—we can unknowingly reinforce the pattern. Over time, repeated thoughts, feelings and behaviors can become familiar neural pathways. They influence how we relate to ourselves and our experiences, how we behave, and the beliefs we develop about ourselves and the world.

We are also social beings, wired for connection and belonging. The ways others consistently respond to us can shape our behavior and our beliefs, particularly during our formative years. These belief systems can become deeply embedded within our internal ‘operating system’, often outside our conscious awareness.

For example, if a child is primarily affirmed when they perform well, they may begin to develop the belief that approval is conditional on perfection or achievement. As adults, we can then begin to view the world through this lens—sometimes overlooking moments of genuine connection, acceptance or affirmation that don't fit with the belief we have come to hold.

My own story

I’ve observed this exact pattern in my own life.

As a young child, my learning was driven by curiosity. I loved understanding how things worked and experimenting with new ideas. However, a punitive teacher in Grade 2 instilled in me a fear of making mistakes. I began working relentlessly to ensure my work was perfect so that I wouldn’t be singled out.

By Grade 3, I was experiencing significant anxiety.

A well-meaning teacher then rewarded my efforts with an award for making no maths mistakes for the entire year. Although the intention was positive, for me it reinforced the belief: I need to perform perfectly to be approved of. At around this time, I developed somatic symptoms of an overactive bladder, directly linked to the unspoken anxiety I was experiencing.

Once on this treadmill, I assumed others always expected the highest standard from me. The result was chronic stress and burnout, followed by disengagement and a loss of joy in learning during my final years of school.

Looking back, it al makes complete sense that my anxiety was expressed physically—I experienced gut issues in addition to an overactive bladder as a child, followed by migraines during secondary school.

At some level, I was aware that my perfectionistic thinking was related to how I felt. But I couldn't identify the deeper belief driving it, let alone understand how to transform it, until much later. Until I addressed this belief and began actively working with the thoughts feeding it, I remained caught in a cycle of high achievement, stress, anxiety, low mood, and burnout.

While this belief system, or story, no longer drives my life, it can still surface—particularly when I step outside my comfort zone or begin something new. What’s different now is that I have the tools to recognize "my story" earlier. I can change my relationship with it rather than allowing it to take up residence in my mind and compulsively direct my actions.

With awareness, intention, and practice, these pathways change—bringing with it a profound sense of ease, resilience, and well-being

Shifting Our Internal Language

When I notice thoughts like "I am anxious" or "my anxiety," I pause and feel into my body. Often, there is a subtle contraction—a holding in the chest or belly.

The language we use can make anxiety feel fixed, as though it is who we are rather than what we are feeling. Yet anxiety is a universal human experience—one that ebbs and flows. A small shift in how we name our experience can. change our relationship with it entirely.

Instead of thinking "I am anxious," I can reframe to:

"I am experiencing the emotion of anxiety."

Or I might simply notice the thought alongside its physical sensation—perhaps a dense or moving sensation in my belly—without needing to change or fix it.

When we withdraw attention from the story and stop reacting to the physical sensation, both the thought and the feeling can rise and fall naturally. In this way, we are no longer defined by the experience, nor do we have to assume we will always feel this way.

Through mindful coaching and Mindfulness-integrated Cognitive Behavior Therapy (MiCBT), we learn to:

• Notice thoughts without judgment.

• Observe patterns with gentle curiosity.

• Become conscious of where we place our attention.

• Recognize the beliefs and habits reinforcing stress.

• Develop new ways of responding rather than automatically reacting.

What’s your story? And what might shift for you if you began meeting your thoughts with curiosity, rather than believing every story they tell?

Further reading

Tseng, J. & Poppenk, J. (2020). Brain meta-state transitions demarcate thoughts across task contexts exposing the mental noise of trait neuroticism. Nature Communications, 11.