It’s Time To Start Reframing The Way You See Your Life.
Most of what happens to us is neutral.
I used to believe that every relationship that ended was a failure. That I’d not only let myself down, but I’d let my parents and my friends down. I mistook their disappointment for me, to disappointment in me.
I’d sit in the wreckage, often on the kitchen floor, probably with a bottle of wine, and tell myself I’d wasted years, wasted love, wasted life.
What I didn’t realise then, is that the relationship wasn’t wasted. It was my framing that had turned it into tragedy. I used to think closing a door on one relationship meant it was over. That I’d wasted my time. That my sadness was proof that I’d failed.
Now I know that every relationship I’ve had has been valuable.
Each one has shown me something about myself.
About what I need. How I should behave. What my non-negotiables are.
I used to beat myself up if I went to the gym and had a shitty session. It would drive me fucking mad; I didn't push myself hard enough. I wasn't fully focused. And I’d leave feeling like it was pointless. A complete waste of my time.
Now I understand that every workout is important.
Doesn’t matter if it’s the best session of my life or the worst.
I went to the gym. I moved my body. I’m maybe 0.3% fitter than yesterday.
Progress, not perfection.
I used to be scared to start new things. In fact, I spent 3 years constantly coming up with business ideas, stress-testing them, before discarding them. Too complicated. Too scared.
And mostly because I “didn’t know what I was doing.”
Now I recognise I don’t know what I’m doing yet. So I start anyway. And figure it out as I go.
Why am I telling you all this?
Neutral doesn’t mean numb.
It doesn’t mean “let’s pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
Neutral means no built-in verdict.
A breakup is this: two people stop being together.
A training session is this: I went to the gym and moved my body for 45 minutes.
A project is this: I tried something, learned something, hit a wall.
Everything else is the story we attach.
Think of this;
If a muted camera recorded the moment, what would it show?
Two people at a table. One of them leaves. A door closes.
Shoes running on a treadmill. A timer. Headphones. Sweat.
A computer screen. Hands typing. A new file called “v2”.
We’ll call that the camera test. The footage is entirely neutral.
The caption that accompanies it, is yours. And it's whatever you choose.
Most of what happens to us is neutral.
Neutral is the space between what happened and what you call it.
It’s the breath before you label the day a tragedy or a lesson.
And, yes, our brains love to label. We are threat-detectors by design.
Fed a 24/7 diet of outrage and worst-case scenarios.
One criticism shouts louder than twelve compliments.
So the first caption that pops up is usually the bleakest one.
Reframing isn’t lying to yourself.
It’s choosing a true frame that serves you better than the automatic one.
I’m James. I’m 42. I don’t have kids. I live alone with a cat.
One frame: sadness.
I’ve failed at life.
I’m not where I should be.
Everyone else is moving forward - marriages, mortgages, children. And I’m behind.
Another frame: opportunity.
I can go anywhere and do anything.
No responsibilities apart from keeping the cat alive.
No one else’s expectations to manage.
The whole board is wide open if I’m brave enough to play it.
The facts are the same.
The story changes everything.
Pain can be true.
So can progress.
The event is data.
The meaning is a decision.
A relationship ends.
A workout sucks.
A project flops.
The event itself isn’t the problem.
The problem is the frame you put around it.
Why This Matters
The reason negative thoughts feel louder today isn’t because life is harder.
It’s because the information never stops.
Wars. Politics. Scandals. Poverty. Crime.
Negativity bias loves that kind of diet.
“There were 5 exabytes of information created between the dawn of civilization and 2003. Now we create that much every two days.”
Whether or not that exact stat is true doesn’t matter.
What matters is: most of what we consume is just noise.
And because we’re wired to notice the bad more than the good, even one small criticism can drown out a dozen compliments.
That’s why reframing isn’t just a nice-to-have.
It’s literal fucking survival.
protocol
Notice the thought.
Catch it in the act.
The discouraging sentence that pops up uninvited.
(“I’m no good at my job.” “She doesn’t like me.” “I must be a failure.”)
Question the thought.
Is it helpful? Is it true?
How have I come to this conclusion?
What evidence am I ignoring?
Replace the thought.
Find something still true, but more useful.
(“I’ve done a lot of good work this year. There’s one area to improve. That’s a challenge, not a verdict.”)
Repeat.
The more you practice, the more natural it becomes.
Reframing is a muscle.
Celebrate small wins.
Every time you catch yourself re-framing, mark it down. Or better still, write it down.
This is how new wiring sets in.
Events don’t carry meaning.
We do.
The relationship wasn’t wasted.
The workout wasn’t pointless.
The project wasn’t doomed.
You decide if something is a waste of time or tuition.
Failure or progress.
An ending or a beginning.
It’s all just framing.
And the frame is everything.
Take care
- James