In this TEDx talk, Nancy Bos shares a personal journey that illustrates how the stories we tell ourselves—shaped by family, teachers, peers, and cultural messages—can become limiting narratives that fuel anxiety, stage fright, and self‑doubt. She recounts early encouragement to sing, early criticism that chipped away at confidence, repeated setbacks in school band, and a pivotal moment when she joined a small show‑tunes group that forced her to confront and rewrite her internal story. Bos argues that personal narratives determine whether we channel energy into fear or forward‑moving determination, and she offers three practical steps for reshaping harmful narratives: (1) find a safe space (coach, therapist, supportive community) to explore old stories, (2) avoid layering new stories while working through old ones, and (3) listen to the heart‑centered story that aligns with one’s true purpose. She concludes that when we own and transform our narratives, we can overcome obstacles, achieve goals, and live more fulfilling lives.
Chapters
At the dinner table, when I was a kid, there was a phrase that my mom had to say a lot: "Nancy, no singing at the table." Now, I loved music, and my mom and dad loved me, and they encouraged me to make music all the time. Just not at the dinner table. By the time I was 4, I was in piano lessons. I sang at all the family gatherings and other events. My parents' love of my music was a narrative that worked for me. But when I was in 2nd grade, I met Susan Olson, and her words cut like a knife. She said, "Nancy, you sound funny." This was a different story, and It started to chip away at my confidence. Now, it may seem odd, but these mixed messages from my childhood actually helped me achieve my goals. You see that these opinions from other people start to form our opinions within ourselves. When I was in 5th grade, I was getting ready for a piano competition. I was standing in the hallway outside the piano room when I noticed that my hands were sweaty. I tried drying them off, and the hall monitor said, "Oh, my dear, you must be nervous." Nervous? Not excited. This is nervous. 2 years later, I was the second chair flute player in my middle school band. Now, there were 15 flute players, so second chair is not bad. And I was pretty good. I took lessons and I practiced. Almost every day, even in the summers. But that band had challenge days. And on the first challenge day, the third chair flute player challenged me for my seat. I lost, and we swapped seats. On the next challenge day, fifth chair challenged me. My hands were sweaty, I was nervous, and I lost. And that continued week after week. Until I was 15th chair. The next year, I was last chair French horn player, but I didn't have any problem with that. These stories, among others, helped to form my personal narrative during my teenage years around failure and anxiety. They caused me to have stage fright for the rest of my middle school and high school years. But the music wouldn't stop. I loved music so much that I decided— how wise is this?— to major in vocal music in college. It felt like a calling from my heart until my sophomore year when I realized that I would have to perform a senior recital. Now that is a 1-hour solo recital for 50 or more people. No way, not happening. Nope. Nope. I changed my major to business administration with a music minor. Problem solved. And yet the music wouldn't stop. And when I was 24, I decided to join a 12-person show tunes group called Top Hats and Roses, and we performed in the Black Hills of South Dakota For festivals and RV parks, our audiences were retirees and vacationers sitting in their folding chairs, swatting mosquitoes, while we sang tunes from the golden era of Broadway. I was the most trained singer in the group, and the other singers wanted me to sing a solo. I really didn't want to, but I knew it was the right thing, and eventually I said yes. And in the next performance, I stepped to the front of the stage when it was my turn, and I sang, "There's a home for me, a place where I belong." Whew! And when I finished, I stepped to the back of the group, and I mouthed the words to the next song, while I stopped my heart from racing and caught my breath. But this was the beginning of me reclaiming my narrative. In that small group of loving people in the Black Hills, I was able to take my negative thoughts and turn them into positive. And since then, through hard work, I have been able to overcome my stage fright and enjoy the marvelous opportunity of being a professional singer. So, when you think of your own personal narratives, what stories are limiting you? These stories have the power of determining how fulfilling our life will be. They do this by either supplying the energy to fear or supplying the energy to moving forward and with determination to reach our goals. Our goals cannot be consistently met unless our personal narrative supports our determination and our courage. Aristotle famously said, "Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom." And Lucille Ball said, "It's a hell of a start being able to recognize what makes you happy." Based on what you learn about yourself, you may be motivated to change the stories that you tell yourself. It won't be without risk. It will require vulnerability and courage. But once you have personal narratives that work for you instead of against you, you will be able to move forward with the task required in order to reach your goals. To reach your goals. So, where do these personal narratives come from? In my case, they came from the messages that I internalized from my family and my community. The messages can also come from organizations and their doctrines, such as churches, political parties, and other groups. Our personal narratives can come from our understanding of our ancestry and how previous generations interacted with the world. And our personal narratives can come from within ourselves when we choose between fear and anger or love and gratitude. Which of your personal narratives is holding you back? Which of your narratives is holding you in darkness that you can shift to let yourself emerge into light? It will take hard work. Let me give you 3 examples from my own journey that might help you with yours. First, the work will be challenging, especially when you find a personal narrative, a story from your background that you didn't realize was having a negative impact on you now. So find a safe place to do the work. Second, it's best to focus on these older stories without new stories coming in at the same time. That's where a coach or a therapist can be a very good idea for helping you work through your stories. Journaling and meditating can also be very helpful. And third, listen to the story from your heart, the story that your spirit is telling you. This might very well be the reason why you're here. We can only overcome our obstacles consistently to reach our goals when our personal narratives help and support our determination and our courage. Ever since I was a little girl who was encouraged to sing anywhere, To now having sung in front of thousands of people on stages and in cathedrals around the world, I have overcome my fears, I have rewritten my negative stories, and I am reaching every one of my goals. And now that I'm no longer in the house, my parents listen to recordings of me at their dinners.
