MRS. 550
My husband and I have been on the road a lot lately visiting family and connecting with friends. One day, as we were cruising along, a sleek BMW 550 caught our attention. Not just for its design, but for its license plate: MRS 550.
That plate made us curious. We imagined her—a confident woman behind the wheel of her dream car. Maybe she worked her whole life to earn that car, saved diligently, and finally treated herself to something she had always wanted. Maybe she had just retired and this was her “freedom car.” Or perhaps she was newly divorced and decided to turn a fresh page with a little horsepower and a touch of flair.
We made up story after story. Each one more colorful than the last. We laughed. We speculated. And then we got quiet—reflecting on how natural it is for us, as humans, to tell stories. To fill in the blanks with narratives that make sense to us. We do it constantly—about others, about situations, and especially about ourselves.
We made up story after story. Each one more colorful than the last. We laughed. We speculated. And then we got quiet—reflecting on how natural it is for us, as humans, to tell stories. To fill in the blanks with narratives that make sense to us. We do it constantly—about others, about situations, and especially about ourselves.
That license plate became more than a funny roadside moment. It became a mirror.
As a coach, I spend a lot of time helping people uncover the stories they’re telling themselves. Sometimes these stories are empowering—like "I’m capable of more" or "I deserve joy." But often, they’re limiting. Stories like “I’m not good with money,” “I always mess things up,” or “People like me don’t do things like that.”
These stories usually aren’t facts—they're interpretations. They’re shaped by our upbringing, culture, past experiences, and even what we’ve overheard others say. And once we believe them, they start to shape our reality.
These stories usually aren’t facts—they're interpretations. They’re shaped by our upbringing, culture, past experiences, and even what we’ve overheard others say. And once we believe them, they start to shape our reality.
What if we got curious about the internal dialog? What if we asked: Where did this story come from? Is it still true? Do I want to keep carrying it?
Mrs. 550 reminded me how fun—and powerful—it is to question the narrative. To play with perspective. To imagine a different ending.
Reflection: What stories are you carrying? Are they still serving the journey you're on?
Action Step: Choose one belief or thought you've had about yourself lately—especially one that feels limiting or heavy. Write it down. Then ask yourself:
Is this a story or a fact?
Where did I learn this?
Who might I be without this belief?
Tool to Try: Thought Reframe Grid