An interesting fact about the stories we tell over and over again is that with each telling we change the memory. Some stories change very little, either because we have told it so often we remember the recent telling of it as if it was just yesterday. Others may change little because the memory induces such strong emotions that we feel like we are re-living the experience as we tell it. But other stories change quite a bit.
You might ask a friend or family member the question, “Do you remember the time when…?” They do, and when they share their version, that version partially becomes your version as well. “Was it me or you that noticed it first?” A simple question, and then your friend responds and their answer becomes yours… whether or not their memory was correct.
I’m always fascinated to hear a shared story told by two different people, each filling in gaps for the other, each taking turns correcting the other. What does one person consider important that the other doesn’t? What subtle contradictions are there? What is a core memory for both?
One memory, two slightly different stories… two truths, and no lies, even when the stories don’t match. That’s the interesting thing about our memories, they tell us the truth we remember, they tell us ‘our’ truth. And the reality is that the very next time we tell the same story, that truth might just change a little bit.