Chapter 2: Not Your Past, but the Meaning You Give It

"That Is Just How I Was Raised"

Jonas is thirty-five and works as a technician repairing heating systems. He is good at his job, calm with customers and well liked by his colleagues. But there is one thing he cannot do: stand up for himself. When his manager gives him the worst shifts, he says nothing. When a friend borrows money and does not return it, he says nothing. When his partner makes plans for both of them without asking, he goes along with it and then feels quietly resentful for days.

Jonas has an explanation for this, and he has repeated it to himself for years. His father was very strict. When Jonas was a boy, he was not allowed to argue, complain or disagree. If he did, he was punished. "So I learned to keep quiet," Jonas says. "That is just how I was raised. I cannot change it now."

One evening, after another weekend spent at a family event he had not wanted to attend, Jonas's partner said something that stayed with him. "Your father is not here," she said. "He has not been in charge of your life for twenty years. Who is keeping you quiet now?" Jonas was hurt at first. But later that night, he found himself thinking about the question. Was it really his father who was keeping him quiet? Or was it something he was still choosing, for reasons of his own?

Many of us carry explanations like Jonas's. "I am shy because I was teased at school." "I cannot trust people because my parents divorced." "I am bad with money because we were poor." "I worry too much because my mother worried." These explanations often contain real truth. Our childhoods do shape us. But they can also become a kind of prison, a story that tells us we are fixed, finished and unable to change.

Alfred Adler had a surprising and hopeful view of the past. He believed that what shapes us most is not what happened to us, but the meaning we give to what happened, and the goals we are moving toward now. This chapter explores that idea, its strengths and its limits.

Looking Forward, Not Only Backward

In Adler's time, many approaches to the mind looked mainly backward. They tried to explain a person's present by finding causes in their past: early experiences, hidden memories, old wounds. Adler did not deny that the past matters. But he believed that this way of looking was incomplete. To understand a person, he said, we must also ask where they are going. What goal are they moving toward? What purpose does their behaviour serve?

This way of thinking is sometimes called looking at purposes rather than only at causes. Adler gave examples from everyday life. A child who suddenly becomes afraid of the dark when a new baby arrives in the family may not simply be afraid. The fear may also have a purpose: it brings a parent to the child's bedside at night, giving the child the attention that the baby now receives during the day. The child is not pretending or being dishonest. The fear is real. But it is also, without the child knowing it, serving a goal.

Adler believed that adults do the same. A person who always arrives late may, without realizing it, be protecting themselves from having to wait for others, or showing that they are too important to be on time. A person who gets headaches before difficult social events may be finding a way to avoid them without having to refuse openly. Again, the headache is real. But looking at its purpose can help us understand it in a new way, and sometimes find a better way to reach the same goal.

This idea can feel uncomfortable at first. It seems to suggest that we are secretly choosing our problems. But Adler did not mean that people consciously choose their difficulties. He meant that the whole person, including parts we are not aware of, is always moving toward goals, especially the goal of feeling safe and significant. When we understand those goals, we gain the power to choose different ways of reaching them.

For Jonas, the question became: what purpose does my silence serve? When he thought about it honestly, he saw that keeping quiet protected him from conflict, which frightened him. It also let him feel like the good, easy-going one, whom nobody could accuse of being difficult. And it gave him a quiet sense of being wronged, which, strangely, felt safer than speaking up and risking rejection. His father had taught him silence long ago. But Jonas was still using it today, for reasons of his own.

The Meaning We Give

In the first chapter of What Life Should Mean to You, Adler made a bold statement about experience. In my own words, he wrote that human beings live in a world of meanings. We never experience things in a pure, neutral way. We always experience them as we interpret them. And he argued that no experience is, by itself, the cause of success or failure. We are not decided by our experiences, he said, but by the meaning we give them.

Adler gave an example of what he meant. Imagine two children who grew up in the same difficult circumstances, perhaps with poverty or an unhappy home. One may conclude, "Life is hard and unfair, so I must take whatever I can, whatever it costs others." The other may conclude, "Life is hard, so I must work to make it better for others who suffer as I did." The experience was the same. The meanings were completely different, and so were the lives that followed.

From these meanings, Adler believed, each of us forms a style of life: our typical way of seeing ourselves, other people and the world, and our typical way of moving toward our goals. He thought that the style of life is formed very early, in the first years of childhood, mostly without words. A child cannot think clearly about the meaning of their experiences, so they form conclusions that are partly mistaken. Adler contrasted the personal reasoning behind a style of life with common sense, the reasoning that most people would share. Teachers in his tradition usually call this personal reasoning private logic.

The hopeful part of Adler's view is that a style of life, although formed early, can change. Because it is based on meanings, and meanings can be understood and revised, a person is never completely fixed. Adler liked to say, in various ways, that what matters is not what we are born with or what has happened to us, but what we do with it. He saw each person as having a creative power to shape their own life, even within the limits of their circumstances.

Change is not easy. A style of life has been practised for many years, and it feels natural, even when it causes problems. But understanding it is the first step. Once Jonas saw that he was still choosing silence for his own protection, the question changed. It was no longer "How can I escape what my father did to me?" It became "Do I still want to protect myself in this way, or is there a better way to feel safe now?"

Priyanka and Her Sister

Priyanka is forty-one. She and her younger sister grew up in a small flat with their mother, who worked two jobs to support them after their father left. Money was always tight, and the girls often looked after themselves. Both sisters remember those years clearly, but they remember them in very different ways.

Priyanka's sister sees their childhood as a story of loss. "We had nothing," she says. "Our father abandoned us, and our mother was never there. Nobody looked after us." She often feels that life has cheated her, and she finds it hard to trust that anyone will stay. When her relationships become difficult, she leaves before she can be left.

Priyanka sees the same years differently. "We did not have much," she says, "but our mother worked so hard for us. My sister and I learned to cook, to manage, to look after each other. I learned that I could cope with difficult things." She has her own struggles, including a tendency to take on too much responsibility. But she sees herself as someone who can face hardship and who has been loved, even if that love was often shown through hard work rather than time.

Neither sister is wrong about the facts. Their father did leave. Their mother was often absent. Money was scarce. The difference lies in the meaning each sister drew from these facts, and in the goals that meaning has led them toward. Priyanka's sister has been moving toward protection from abandonment. Priyanka has been moving toward competence and responsibility.

Priyanka's own meaning also has a cost, and she has begun to see it. Because she learned early that she could cope, she now finds it very hard to let others help her. She takes on extra work at her office, looks after her sister's problems and rarely admits when she is tired. Her meaning is more hopeful than her sister's, but it, too, was formed by a child, and it, too, can be revised. Adler did not think any style of life was perfect. He thought each one could be understood and made more flexible.

Recently, the two sisters talked about this for the first time. Priyanka's sister was surprised to hear how differently Priyanka remembered their mother. She began to wonder whether there were parts of their childhood she had not let herself see. She did not suddenly change her view. But a door opened, and she said she would like to talk more. This is how meanings often begin to change: not through argument, but through seeing the same facts from another side.

Carlos and His Lifelong Shyness

Carlos is forty-four and works as a laboratory technician. He describes himself as shy, and he has done so for as long as he can remember. At school, he was teased for his stammer, which he later outgrew. Since then, he has avoided parties, kept quiet in groups and turned down invitations to speak at work. "I have always been shy," he says. "It is part of who I am."

When Carlos began to think about Adler's idea of purpose, he asked himself what his shyness did for him. The answer surprised him. His shyness protected him from the possibility of being laughed at again. As long as he stayed quiet, nobody could tease him. It also gave him an explanation that nobody could argue with. If he did not speak up, it was not because he had nothing to say or because he was afraid. It was simply because he was shy, as if shyness were a fact like his height.

Seeing this did not make Carlos feel ashamed. It made him feel more free. If his shyness was serving a purpose, then perhaps he could find other ways of reaching the same goal of feeling safe. He did not need to throw away his quiet nature, which had many good sides. He was a good listener and a careful thinker. But he could stop using shyness as a wall that kept him from things he actually wanted.

Carlos began with small experiments. He joined a small reading group with only five members. He spoke once in each meeting. He volunteered to explain a new procedure to two colleagues at work. Each time, he noticed his old fear rising, and each time, he noticed that nobody laughed. After a year, he gave a short talk at a work meeting. His voice shook at first, but he finished, and several colleagues thanked him.

Carlos still describes himself as a quiet person. But he no longer says, "I am shy, so I cannot." He says, "I am quiet, and sometimes I choose to speak." The difference is small in words and large in life. The first sentence describes a fixed fact. The second describes a person who can choose.

Thandiwe After the Divorce

Thandiwe is fifty-two. Two years ago, her marriage of twenty-five years ended when her husband told her that he had fallen in love with someone else. The shock was enormous. For months, she could hardly function. Now, she is back at work as a school administrator, her adult children are close to her and she has many good friends. But she carries one belief that colours everything: "I am not lovable. If the person who knew me best could leave, then anyone will."

This belief has a purpose, as Adler might point out. It protects Thandiwe from ever being hurt like that again. If she is not lovable, then there is no point in opening her heart, and if she never opens her heart, nobody can break it. The belief feels like a fact, but it is really a meaning she has given to a painful event, and a goal of safety that the meaning serves.

Thandiwe began to see this with the help of a counsellor, whom she saw for several months after the divorce. The counsellor did not argue with her or tell her she was wrong. Instead, she asked questions. What other meanings could the end of the marriage have? Was it possible that her husband's choice said more about him than about her? Were there people in her life who clearly loved her now?

Slowly, Thandiwe began to try another meaning. "My marriage ended. That was very painful. It does not prove that I cannot be loved. My children love me. My friends love me. I have much to give." She did not believe this new meaning fully at first. She practised it, the way one practises a new skill, and it slowly became more natural.

A year later, Thandiwe is not in a new relationship, and she is not sure she wants one. But she no longer believes that she is unlovable. She has joined a walking group, travelled with a friend and started learning to paint. The divorce still hurts sometimes. But it is no longer the centre of her story. It has become one chapter among many.

Practical Steps: Revisiting Your Story

The first step is to notice your explanations. Listen for sentences that begin "I am this way because..." or "That is just how I was raised" or "I have always been like this." Write a few of them down. These sentences are not necessarily false, but they often contain meanings that you formed long ago and have not looked at since.

The second step is to ask about purpose. For each explanation, ask yourself gently: "What does this belief protect me from? What does it allow me to avoid? What does it help me feel?" Be honest and kind with yourself. You are not looking for something shameful. You are looking for the goal your belief has been serving, so that you can decide whether you still want to reach that goal in that way.

The third step is to look for other meanings. Take one memory or one experience that you believe has shaped you, and ask: "What other meanings could someone draw from this?" Like Priyanka and her sister, two people can draw very different meanings from the same facts. Try to find at least one other meaning that is honest and fits the facts, but that would lead you somewhere more helpful.

The fourth step is to try a small action that fits the new meaning. Meanings change most when we act on them. If you have believed "I cannot speak up," try speaking up once, in a small, safe situation. If you have believed "I cannot trust anyone," try trusting someone with something small. Each action is a test of the new meaning, and each success makes it more real.

The fifth step is to be patient. A style of life that has been practised for decades does not change in a week. Expect to fall back into old patterns, especially under stress. Each time you notice an old pattern, you can choose again. Adler was optimistic about change, but he never said it was quick. He said it was possible.

The sixth step is to talk with someone. Old meanings are often hard to see alone, because they feel like plain facts. A trusted friend, a family member who was there or a qualified counsellor can help you see your story from outside. Thandiwe's new meaning began in conversation, and so did Jonas's.

This Is Not Blaming Yourself or Denying What Happened

Adler's ideas about the past can be misunderstood in a harmful way, so it is important to be clear. Adler wrote boldly that we are not decided by our experiences but by the meanings we give them. Some readers take this to mean that painful experiences do not matter, or that people who suffer from them are choosing to suffer. That is not a fair reading of Adler, and it is not what this book means.

Some experiences, such as violence, abuse, serious neglect, war or sudden loss, can affect a person deeply in body and mind, and these effects are well recognized today. People who have been through such things deserve understanding and, often, professional help. Adler himself spent much of his life trying to improve conditions for children and families, because he knew how much harm a hard environment could do. His point about meaning was meant to give hope, not to blame.

The hopeful message is this: whatever has happened to us, we are not finished. We can still understand our story, find new meanings and move toward new goals. This is true even for people who have been badly hurt, although for them the road may be longer and may need more support. If you have been through something that still affects you strongly, please consider talking to a doctor or another qualified professional. Working on old pain with skilled help is not a sign of weakness. It is a way of using exactly the creative power that Adler believed every person has.

It is also worth saying that understanding the purpose of a pattern is different from blaming ourselves for it. Jonas did not decide, as a boy, to become silent so that he could avoid conflict. He learned silence to survive his father's strictness, and that was a sensible thing for a child to do. The question is not "Why did I do this wrong?" but "Is this old solution still the best one for my life now?"

A Short Exercise: Two Versions of One Memory

This exercise helps you see how meaning shapes memory. It takes about twenty minutes and works best in a quiet place where you will not be interrupted.

Choose a memory from your past that you feel has shaped you in some way. It does not need to be a very painful memory. In fact, it is better to start with something of medium importance: a disappointment at school, a family argument, a time you were left out, a time you failed at something. Avoid memories that bring very strong distress; those are better explored with professional support.

On one page, write the memory as you usually tell it to yourself, including the meaning you have drawn from it. For example: "When I was nine, I forgot my lines in the school play and everyone laughed. That is when I learned that I am no good in front of people." Write it fully, in a few sentences.

On a second page, write the same memory again, keeping all the facts the same, but drawing a different meaning from it. The new meaning must be honest and fit the facts. For example: "When I was nine, I forgot my lines in the school play and everyone laughed. I was only nine, and I had been brave enough to stand on a stage. I learned that embarrassment is painful but passes, and that I can survive it."

Read both versions slowly. Notice how each one feels in your body. Notice which goals each meaning points toward. The first version above points toward avoiding stages forever. The second points toward trying again. Then ask yourself: which meaning would I like to carry forward? You do not have to choose the second one immediately. But you now know that there is more than one meaning, and that the choice is, at least partly, yours.

Jonas did this exercise with a memory of being punished for disagreeing with his father at the dinner table. His second version said: "I was a boy who had his own opinions and the courage to say them. My father could not hear them then. That does not mean my opinions were wrong, or that nobody can hear them now." He keeps both versions in a drawer. He says that the second one gave him the courage, a few weeks later, to tell his manager that the shift schedule was unfair. The manager listened, and the schedule changed.

Chapter Summary

Adler believed that to understand a person, we must ask not only what caused their behaviour, but what purpose it serves and what goal it is moving toward. He argued in What Life Should Mean to You that we are not decided by our experiences, but by the meanings we give them. From these meanings, formed early in life, each person builds a style of life, with its own private logic. Because it is built on meanings, a style of life can change, slowly, through understanding, courage and new actions.

Jonas and his silence, Priyanka and her sister, Carlos and his shyness and Thandiwe after her divorce all found that the stories they told about their past were not the only possible stories. By asking what their beliefs protected them from and trying new meanings in small actions, they began to move in new directions. This is not about blaming ourselves or denying real pain. It is about recognizing that, whatever has happened, we are not finished.

In the next chapter, we will look at one of the feelings that Adler believed shapes all human life from the very beginning: the feeling of being small.