When the Old Rules Don't Fit Anymore

There was a moment in the conversation when one of us said:

"You're living now under those rules who you no longer are."

And the whole room shifted a little.

Because you could feel the truth of it land.

We don't talk about it often, but so many of the "rules" we still follow — the reactions, the defensiveness, the beliefs about what we're supposed to do or feel — were created by someone we don't even recognize anymore.

A younger version of us.

Less experienced.

More afraid.

Trying to figure it out with whatever tools they had then.

That version of you wrote rules to survive certain moments.

And then you carried those rules forward, long after the moment ended.

In the transcript, you said:

"Someone who was much more novice, unskilled, inexperienced… made a decision that you've kept all the way to here."

That's the part we never question — the way a belief becomes a structure, then a habit, then almost like a law.

Not because it's still true, but because it's old.

And then one morning, you look at it again — maybe in the middle of a small hurt, or while your "little porcupine" spikes are still up — and you notice:

This doesn't feel like me anymore.

The belief that used to feel protective now feels limiting.

The reaction that once made sense now feels automatic.

The voice that once led you now feels like something borrowed.

In moments like that, something rises from underneath — a kind of quiet awareness:

"Does this still serve me?"

Not as judgment.

Not as self-criticism.

Just a gentle acknowledgement that the person you were when the rule was created… isn't the person who's living today.

There's a line from the transcript I keep thinking about:

"It's like an underlying belief you have, still running unconsciously. But now, as we speak about it, it comes to the forefront."

That's how old rules begin to fall away — not dramatically, not with some big declaration, but simply by being seen.

By recognizing the rule was written by someone who didn't know what you know now.

And once you see that, you're free to ask:

What if that rule isn't mine anymore?

And what would life feel like without it?

That's the quiet work we keep doing, morning after morning — holding these old rules up to the light to see which ones still fit…

and which ones we've finally outgrown.