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- “Bob, I want to change my story."
“Bob, I want to change my story."
The story you’ve been telling yourself is optional. What if this is the moment you write a new one?
SPARK Insights by Coach Reg — Issue #0036
“Bob, I want to change my story.”
That’s it. That’s the phrase. If it resonates, reply with those words. I’ll explain why.
Today’s message comes with a request for your response, and a challenge for you to make a new choice…
I wrote about imposter syndrome last week— but not in the usual way.
Not as a self-help buzzword.
Not as something to fix.
Instead, I want you to see it as a story.
One that you didn’t write… but somehow agreed to.
A story that maybe started years ago.
Or one that was handed to you by parents, culture, school, religion, or industry.
A story you didn’t even know was running your life — until now.
Imposter Syndrome Isn’t a Condition. It’s a Narrative.
It’s the inner voice that whispers:
“You’re not ready.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“Someone else has already done it better.”
“If they really knew me, they’d walk away.”
But here’s what I’ve come to believe:
That voice isn’t you. It’s the echo of an old agreement.
And like any story, it can be rewritten.
What Happens When We Break a Collective Story?
Let me show you what I mean.
For most of human history, flight was reserved for birds and insects.
Humans? We were dreamers with feet on the ground.
The collective story was:
“We don’t fly. We’re not meant to.”
Then came the Wright brothers.
And in one windy moment at Kitty Hawk, that entire narrative collapsed.
Sure, it took years of failure, ridicule, and tinkering.
But the breakthrough happened in an instant — the moment they lifted off.
And everything changed.
Same thing with the four-minute mile.
We thought it was physically impossible. Then Roger Bannister broke it.
And within months, others did too — because the story was no longer true.
We Inherit Collective Stories — Until We Don’t
Right now, I’m captivated by the new Billy Joel documentary.
Those who know me know Billy and Tom Petty are my musical soulmates.
But this film opened something deeper.
Billy was a kid from Long Island.
A Jewish-German kid. Father left early. Mother struggled with mental health and alcohol.
He was bullied. Undersized. A piano player in a town where toughness defined worth.
And yet… he rewrote his story.
He said no to the narrative. He carved a new path.
The world now sees “Billy Joel the legend,”
but they forget the boy who battled invisibility
and doubt and attempted suicide TWICE
long before the spotlight.
You’re Not the Only One Who Feels This
We tend to idolize people once they’ve made it.
Steve Jobs. Jeff Bezos. Oprah. Petty. Serena. Jordan.
But what we never see are the thousands of moments before the breakthrough.
The meetings they almost didn’t take.
The conversations they were terrified to have.
The projects they nearly quit.
The days they whispered, “Who am I to do this?”
They weren’t fearless. They were human.
And they had to face down the same story you’re facing now.
I Want to Create Something Just for Us
Over the last few weeks, I’ve received dozens of messages from you.
Long, heartfelt reflections. Quick gut-punch replies. All saying the same thing:
“This hit me. I’m living this. Thank you.”
So I’m going to offer you something that isn’t fully formed yet.
It’s not a program. There’s no sales page. No funnel. No link to click.
It’s a live experience — a sacred space for a small group of people ready to say:
“This story doesn’t serve me anymore.”
We’ll gather. We’ll drop the mask. We’ll name the lie.
And we’ll rewrite the script. Together.
I don’t know what the price is yet.
I don’t know the date yet.
But I know this: it will be soon, and it will be powerful.
And if you want in, you have to raise your hand now.
Just Say the Words
If this hits you in the gut… don’t overthink it.
Just reply and say:
“Bob, I want to change my story.”
I’ll only invite those who reply.
And if enough of you raise your hand
in the next 48 hours, I’ll make it happen.
SPARK Insight Reflection Prompt:
What is preventing me from immediately accepting this invitation to change my story?
I imagine you might be resisting hitting “Reply” to this message.
I get it.
Responding means you’re acknowledging that something needs to change.
It means stepping toward uncertainty instead of comfort.
It means admitting that a story you’ve lived with — maybe for years — no longer fits.
But here’s what I also know:
The longer you wait, the louder that old story gets.
And every breakthrough I’ve ever seen begins with a simple, quiet moment of honesty.
So if your gut whispered “yes”… honor it.
Just reply and say:
“Bob, I want to change my story.”
You don’t need the details. You just need the decision.
I’ll take care of the rest.
In your corner,
– Coach Reg