What We’re Told, What We Believe, and What We Choose

Introducing My New Blog Series

When I was about twenty-two, a childhood friend once asked me:

“Do you believe in free will?”

“Of course,” I said.

At the time, I was newly out from under strict religious parents and doing whatever I wanted, even when the consequences were messy. I believed every choice was mine.

She shook her head.

“There is no such thing. We are conditioned […] Well, I have a master’s. I know.”” she said, as if the degree had granted her ownership of truth.

Her comment hit a tender spot. It touched my shame about not having a degree yet, and it carried the implication that she understood something I didn’t. Here is what I understand now:

She was right about free will being shaped by conditioning.
She was wrong about me being unaware of it.

Even then, I already sensed that our choices were shaped by the environments we grew up in. I had watched conditioning play out in our community, in our church, and in our families. Sometimes I felt like I was the only one who noticed. What I did not have yet was the language or confidence to describe what I saw.

Now I do have a master’s, and years of experience with people across many systems. All of it confirmed what I knew intuitively:

We do not only inherit trauma. We inherit stories about who we are allowed to be.

Stories about what we owe, when to stay quiet, how we should show gratitude, and what we must sacrifice to keep the peace. Stories about identity, loyalty, limits, and possibility. These private stories often mirror the larger cultural stories we are taught.

These inherited stories don’t just show up on families. They show up nationally, too. Which brings me to Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is one of the clearest examples of this kind of inherited narrative.

Most of us grew up with the school-friendly version: Pilgrims and Native Americans sharing a peaceful meal, unity, gratitude, and a simple origin story.

The real history is far more painful.
Yet the softened version is the one repeated, celebrated, and taught to children until it becomes unquestioned.

This is how conditioning works.
Quiet.
Familiar.
Comfortable enough that we do not pause to examine it.

The stories we inherit in families, culture, religion, politics, and even therapy function in a very similar way.

Why I am Writing This Series

In every setting I have worked in, including therapy, anti-trafficking work, juvenile justice, immigrant communities, spiritual trauma, child welfare, and national trainings, people name the same feelings again and again:

“I feel trapped.”
“I do not know how to leave.”
“I keep choosing the same thing.”
“I feel guilty taking care of myself.”
“I do not know whose expectations I am living for.”

People often believe they are making fully free choices.
In reality, they are responding to the stories they were handed long before they could understand them.

This series is about those stories.
The ones we grow up with.
The ones we carry.
The ones we question.
The ones we eventually outgrow.

Next Month’s Post

In December, I will be exploring one of the loudest and most universal forms of modern conditioning: holiday consumer culture, advertisements, influencers, and MLMs.

These systems shape our decisions in ways that feel personal but are actually designed.

As we move through this holiday season, I hope you approach your inherited stories with gentleness.

Some of them protected you.
Some of them restricted you.
And some of them are finally ready to be rewritten.

This series is my way of walking through that process with you.