Nothing Is Wrong with You: You Are More Than What You Believe

Yesterday, I watched a television program about psychic con artists that left me questioning how easily we can become convinced something is wrong with our lives.

People searching for answers to personal difficulties were told that curses, evil influences or unseen forces were responsible for their unhappiness and misfortune. Once the problem was identified, the psychic offered to remove it.

Some paid $10,000. Others handed over nearly $1 million over several months, believing each payment would bring them closer to relief.

What struck me was the promise of a quick fix.

Find the problem. Pay someone to remove it. Get your life back.

Yet the promised relief never arrived for some of those involved. What began as a search for answers became an increasingly expensive and distressing experience.

I found myself wondering how much we are prepared to sacrifice when we believe something is wrong and someone else has the power to fix it.

There is something deeply human about wanting answers when life isn't going the way we hoped. Relationships become difficult, opportunities disappear and circumstances change. We want to understand what is happening and find a way forward.

Seeking guidance can be valuable. Sometimes we need professional support, practical assistance or another perspective to navigate difficult experiences.

Yet there is an important difference between experiencing something difficult and concluding that something is fundamentally wrong with who we are.

I think about how early we can begin making that distinction disappear.

A child hears a frustrated parent ask, “Why can't you ever listen?” A student struggles with something their classmates find easy. A teenager discovers everyone else has been invited somewhere.

At home, young people hear adults criticising themselves and others. At school, they encounter grades, comparisons, friendships and expectations. Online, they see carefully selected images of how successful, attractive and popular other people appear to be.

They are experiencing all of this while developing their understanding of who they are and where they belong.

An ordinary disappointment can begin carrying a much larger meaning.

Not being invited becomes Nobody likes me.

Finding something difficult becomes I'm not smart enough.

Being corrected becomes I always get things wrong.

These conclusions are not inevitable, but they can develop long before a young person has the experience to question them.

They don't necessarily disappear as we grow older.

A child who believed they weren't good enough may become an adult who continually tries to prove their worth through achievement. Someone who experienced rejection may spend years seeking acceptance, even in relationships where they are genuinely valued.

The circumstances have changed, but the beliefs have remained.

Someone can have a successful career, financial security, a beautiful home and a loving family, yet privately feel that something is missing.

The next promotion might finally make them feel successful. More money might provide security. Another achievement might offer reassurance that they have accomplished enough.

For a while, those experiences may feel wonderful.

Then the familiar feeling returns, and there is another goal to achieve, something else to improve or someone else whose life appears more successful.

You can have enough and still not feel enough.

What someone has created on the outside doesn't necessarily reflect what they believe about themselves on the inside.

We can spend years making decisions through conclusions developed when we had far less experience, understanding and perspective than we have today.

Growing older doesn't automatically mean we reconsider those conclusions.

A child can need help learning without being unintelligent. A teenager can experience rejection without being unlovable. An adult can struggle with relationships, finances or confidence without being fundamentally inadequate.

I began thinking about how differently we might experience life if we stopped searching for evidence of what is wrong with us and started questioning what we have learned to believe.

What if nothing is wrong with you?

What if some of the limitations you have been living with are connected to conclusions you developed years ago and have never thought to question?

Those conclusions may be reinforced every day through something so familiar that you barely notice it.

The words you hear and speak. The thoughts you repeatedly entertain. The beliefs you have accepted as truth.

You may have spent years trying to change who you are, without questioning what you learned to believe about yourself.

What Are You Feeding Your Mind?

Think about the words you have heard since waking up this morning.

Perhaps you turned on the news and heard about violence, conflict or another tragedy. You opened social media and found people arguing, sharing misinformation or criticising someone they have never met.

You might have listened to a colleague complain about work, a friend criticise their partner or someone describe everything that is going wrong in their life.

Each conversation adds something to your day.

We pay attention to the food we eat, the water we drink and the environments we spend time in. We understand that what we consume can influence how we feel and function.

Yet how often do we consider the words?

The news we follow, the entertainment we choose and the conversations we participate in all provide information that can influence how we interpret the world.

Repeated criticism can encourage us to notice what is wrong. Conversations dominated by complaints can leave us frustrated about circumstances we hadn't previously considered a problem.

Some events genuinely deserve our concern and attention. The question is whether what we consume helps us understand and respond or continually reinforces fear and helplessness.

Then there are the words we contribute.

Imagine listening to colleagues criticise someone who isn't there. By the time you encounter that person, you find yourself noticing the very behaviours everyone was discussing.

The conversation hasn't necessarily changed the person.

It may have changed how you see them.

I think this matters enormously when we consider the words young people grow up hearing.

Children listen while adults criticise their appearance, complain about their circumstances or judge other people. Sometimes those comments are directed at the child. Often, they are simply part of everyday conversation.

Yet those words become part of the environment in which young people learn about relationships, success, personal worth and what to expect from life.

Adults continue absorbing messages too.

Listen to how casually we describe ourselves.

I'm hopeless with money.

I'm terrible at relationships.

I'm useless with technology.

I always get things wrong.

Sometimes these statements are spoken jokingly. Other times, we have repeated them for so long that they feel like ordinary descriptions of who we are.

Yet acknowledging a difficulty is different from turning that difficulty into an identity.

Saying we haven't learned to manage money effectively leaves room to develop a skill. Describing ourselves as hopeless can make the difficulty feel permanent.

I wonder how many times we describe ourselves according to something we once found difficult, without recognising that we have turned an experience into a belief about who we are.

The words we repeatedly consume and contribute can influence the world we believe we are living in.

The Words We Cannot See

Imagine two glasses of water sitting on a table.

Both contain water from the same source. They look identical.

Now imagine directing words of kindness and appreciation towards one glass, and criticism and rejection towards the other.

Would anything change?

Japanese author Masaru Emoto, known for The Hidden Messages in Water, became internationally known for photographs of frozen water crystals that he associated with different words, music and intentions.

He claimed that positive messages produced beautiful, organised formations, while negative messages produced distorted patterns.

The images were fascinating, although his conclusions have not been reliably established scientifically.

I find the idea thought-provoking, but we don't need to believe that words physically change water to recognise the influence language can have on people.

Think about how you feel after a conversation filled with criticism compared with one where someone listens, encourages you and helps you recognise possibilities.

Your circumstances may be exactly the same when the conversation ends.

Your experience of them may be different.

There is another person who hears the words you speak more often than anyone else.

You.

Those spoken words often reflect something happening beneath our awareness.

Our thoughts.

Imagine receiving a message from your manager asking you to meet tomorrow morning.

There is no explanation, yet your mind immediately begins searching for reasons. Perhaps you have made a mistake. Someone might have complained. You might lose your job.

Within minutes, you are imagining financial difficulties, disappointing your family and an uncertain future.

Nothing has happened.

Yet you may already be experiencing the worry and tension of something you fear.

Our ability to imagine the future helps us prepare, solve problems and anticipate opportunities. The same ability can leave us trapped in frightening possibilities that haven't occurred.

Recently, I was coaching a client who had become caught in negative thinking about an unwanted outcome.

Rather than reassuring her that everything would be fine, I used a technique I have learned and frequently use in coaching.

I asked two simple words.

Then what?

She explained what she feared might happen.

Then what?

We explored what that could mean and what she might do.

Then what?

We continued until she could begin considering possibilities beyond the outcome that had frightened her.

The technique wasn't about pretending something difficult couldn't happen. It helped her consider what she could do, who could support her and what choices might remain available.

A similar principle is found in cognitive behavioural approaches to challenging unhelpful thoughts, including examining catastrophic predictions and considering alternative outcomes.

What interests me is how often our imagination stops at the worst moment.

We picture rejection, failure or loss and assume the story ends there.

Yet difficult experiences can require decisions, support, learning and adjustment. We may not know exactly what will happen, but that doesn't mean we will be incapable of responding.

A frightening thought is not a prediction of your future.

When we repeatedly treat those frightening thoughts as facts, something deeper may be influencing our choices.

The beliefs we have accepted about ourselves.

What Have You Learned to Believe?

There is something more deeply established than the words we speak or the thoughts that pass through our minds.

Our beliefs.

We may never hear them as sentences in our heads. Yet they can influence how we respond to criticism, relationships, opportunities and challenges.

Someone who believes they aren't capable may avoid unfamiliar situations. Someone who doubts their worth may struggle to accept love. Someone who feels they don't belong may continually seek approval.

These responses can make sense when we understand the conclusions beneath them.

Louise Hay, author of You Can Heal Your Life, taught that many of our beliefs develop through the messages and experiences of childhood. She encouraged people to examine those beliefs and practise more supportive ways of thinking about themselves.

What interests me is how easily a conclusion formed years earlier can continue influencing someone whose circumstances have completely changed.

Consider common beliefs that can quietly shape how we experience life.

I'm not good enough. No matter how much I achieve, there is always something else I must accomplish before I can feel proud of myself.

I'm not worthy. I struggle to prioritise my needs, accept kindness or believe I deserve love and care.

I'm not significant. I hesitate to speak up because I doubt whether anyone genuinely wants to hear me.

I'm not capable. I avoid challenges because I expect failure, even when previous experiences demonstrate my ability to learn.

I don't belong. I change my behaviour to gain acceptance or withdraw before others have an opportunity to know me.

I'm not perfect. I struggle to forgive mistakes because I believe I should always perform better.

These aren't diagnoses or explanations for every behaviour. They are examples of how an underlying belief might influence someone's choices.

The remarkable thing is that we may not consciously recognise the belief at all.

We simply feel inadequate when someone succeeds, anxious about disappointing others or uncomfortable accepting appreciation.

The belief feels familiar.

Yet familiarity doesn't make something true.

A child who struggled at school couldn't know everything they would eventually learn. Someone who experienced rejection couldn't know every relationship they would develop. A young person who concluded they weren't good enough may have carried that belief into adulthood without ever questioning the evidence.

We can begin separating what happened to us from what we concluded about ourselves.

This doesn't mean deeply held beliefs change overnight. Some are connected to painful experiences and require time, support and repeated opportunities to develop a different understanding.

But recognising a belief gives us an opportunity to examine it.

In Choosing What Comes Next: Start with the Life You Want to Create, I explored how directing our attention towards what we want can give our choices greater purpose.

That becomes particularly important when an old belief has been influencing what we allow ourselves to want.

How much of your life have you spent trying to become good enough without questioning who convinced you that you weren't enough?

Start Choosing Here

Think about the words you have spoken today.

Perhaps you criticised yourself, complained about someone's behaviour or joined a conversation about everything that appears to be going wrong.

You may not have noticed how easily those words came to you.

That's where I want you to begin.

The Seven-Day Words Challenge.

Start with 24 hours.

Challenge yourself not to speak negatively about yourself, another person or the circumstances around you.

Notice when you are about to complain, criticise, blame or pass judgement. Consider whether what you are about to say is fair, necessary or helpful.

Pay attention to the words you consume, too. The news, conversations and messages you repeatedly allow into your day.

You can still acknowledge difficulties, express emotions, challenge harmful behaviour and ask for help. The purpose is to interrupt habitual negativity, rather than silence genuine concerns.

If you catch yourself speaking negatively, notice it and begin again.

Once you have completed 24 hours, try 48. Then continue towards seven days.

As you become more aware of your words, you may begin noticing the thoughts behind them.

The frightening prediction. The judgement. The familiar expectation that something will go wrong.

Remember the question we explored earlier.

Then what?

Continue beyond the outcome you fear until you can consider how you might respond.

With greater awareness of your thoughts, you may begin recognising the beliefs underneath them.

I'm not good enough.

I'm not worthy.

I'm not capable.

Ask yourself where those beliefs came from, what experiences challenge them and whether they accurately describe who you are today.

You may not change a deeply held belief in seven days. But you may discover something you have been accepting as truth without ever questioning it.

You may also begin recognising how often your attention has been directed towards what is wrong, what might go wrong or what you believe needs fixing.

And with that awareness comes an opportunity to choose where you direct your attention next.

What do you want to begin creating instead?

That brings me back to the television program I watched.

People were paying extraordinary amounts of money because someone convinced them there was something wrong with their lives that only an outsider could remove.

I wonder how often we pursue our own version of that promise, searching for the next achievement, relationship, opportunity or solution that will finally make us feel complete.

Yet we can begin examining the words, thoughts and beliefs shaping our lives without paying anyone to tell us what is wrong.

The practice costs nothing to begin. Real difficulties may still require support, but our worth doesn't depend on finding someone who can declare us good enough.

Perhaps the first change is recognising that we have been trying to fix ourselves through beliefs we never thought to question.

You cannot discover what you are capable of becoming while continuing to believe you are who you were told you were.