(The One About Not Letting Them Own You)
Hey friends,
If you’re reading this, chances are you’ve got a chapter in your life you’d rather skip when telling your story. Maybe it’s a felony conviction, a string of bad choices, a betrayal that cost you everything – or all of the above. I get it. For years, I carried twelve federal felony convictions under RICO like a backpack full of bricks. Every time someone asked what I did for a living, or why I left my old job, or why my kids sometimes looked away when people mentioned “the news,” I felt that old shame rise up like acid in my throat.
I spent a long time trying to outrun it. I changed the subject. I minimized. I pretended the past was someone else’s story. But here’s the truth I learned the hard way: you can’t build a new life on a foundation you’re still ashamed of.
Owning your past doesn’t mean wearing it like a badge of honor. It means looking it square in the eye and saying, “Yeah, that happened. I did that. And I’m not that person anymore.” No excuses. No blame-shifting. Just the facts – and the decision to grow from them.
My Lowest Point
I still remember the drive home from the federal courthouse in 1992. Sixty miles of silence in the car, radio already playing the news: “Local man indicted in satellite piracy scheme.” My kids were 14, 12, and 9. My wife was waiting at home with our son who had just been diagnosed with a relapse of his cancer. I had to sit each of them down – separately – and explain that Daddy was going to be called a criminal. Their little faces… that confusion, that hurt. That was the moment shame stopped being an emotion and became a physical weight. I thought, “They’d be better off without me.”
I blamed God for a while. Blamed the economy. Blamed the FBI for not letting it go away. Blamed everyone except the guy in the mirror who made the choices. It wasn’t until I finally admitted – out loud, to myself, to my wife, to a couple of friends who didn’t run – that I started breathing again.
Owning it hurt. But hiding it was killing me.
Why Shame Keeps You Stuck
Shame whispers two lies:
1. “If people really knew, they’d never accept you.”
2. “You’re still that person deep down.”
Both are false. But they keep you silent, isolated, defensive. And isolation is the perfect breeding ground for old habits to creep back in.
The opposite of shame isn’t pride – it’s honest ownership. When you own your story, you take the power away from anyone who might use it against you. You stop flinching when the past comes up. You stop lying by omission. And strangely, people start trusting you more, not less.
What I Did (and What You Can Try This Week)
Here’s the simple practice that changed everything for me:
1. Write it down – once, privately.
One page. No filter. Just the facts: What happened. What I did. Who it hurt. What the consequences were. No sugar-coating, no excuses.
I did this in a cheap spiral notebook during home confinement. Seeing it on paper made it real – and strangely less scary.
2. Say it out loud – to yourself first.
Stand in front of a mirror or sit in your car and speak the truth: “I stole money that wasn’t mine.” “I broke the law.” “I hurt the people who trusted me.”
It feels awful the first few times. That’s okay. The discomfort is the shame leaving your body.
3. Share one small piece with one safe person.
Not the whole story – just one honest sentence. “I have a felony on my record from years ago.” “I made some really bad financial choices.”
Watch what happens. Most people don’t run. Some even respect you more for the courage it took to say it.
4. End with the pivot: “And here’s what I’ve done since…”
This is where the power lives. Ownership isn’t wallowing – it’s claiming the whole arc. “I did that. I paid for it. And now I’m building something better.”
Quick Reflection Prompt for You
Grab a piece of paper or your phone notes right now. Answer these two questions:
- What’s one mistake from my past I’m still ashamed to say out loud?
- What would change in my life if I owned it without shame?
Don’t overthink it. Just write. You don’t have to show anyone yet. This is between you and the page.
Final Thought
Your past is not your prison – it’s your proof. The same hands that once broke things can now build them. The same voice that once lied can now tell the truth. The same heart that once hurt people can now help them heal.
Owning your mistakes without shame doesn’t erase them. It reclaims them. And once they’re yours again – not society’s, not the system’s, not your inner critic’s – you get to decide what they mean going forward.
You’ve already survived the worst part.
Now let’s turn the page – together.
If this resonated, drop a comment below: What’s one small step you’re willing to take this week toward owning your story? I read every one.
— Joe