The most powerful story we tell is the story we tell to ourselves about our self. In my youth, my story was based on my experience. In gym class, I was always the last one picked for teams. “Who will take Larry?” the gym teacher would ask. Girls told me, “I just want to be friends,” but I wanted to be more than friends. My marks in school were not impressive. I passed, but that was about it. After I dropped out of school at sixteen, I left home and got a job. Things seemed better at first. My jobs would seem interesting and fun at the beginning, but they soon became drudgery. And the pay didn’t support much of a lifestyle. I might have accepted that if I could have seen a future, but I couldn’t. The problem was: I was an expert on who I was not, but I didn’t have a clue who I was. My story about me was about who I wasn’t and what I couldn’t do. The truth was that I felt sorry for myself.