The Cost of Swapping Physics for Weightlifting (and What It Taught Me About Stories)

It only took about twenty minutes for me to realize something crucial during my first physics class: I had no business being there.

Rather than spending a semester battling gravity on paper, I decided to go experience it firsthand—and signed up for weightlifting instead.

Instantly, I was learning about pounds, momentum, and physics (the hands-on kind) without a migraine. And I loved it. The class was a motley crew—athletes, artists, the quietly brilliant, the unapologetically chaotic—but we shared something most high school classes didn’t: we actually wanted to be there.

Over time, we bonded. We teased. We pulled pranks.And then… it happened.

One afternoon, while I was maxing out my deadlift, Dean Workman—part class clown, part misunderstood genius—snuck up behind me and yanked my shorts down.

Right there. In front of thirty guys.

Silence fell so hard you could hear the gym lights buzzing.

I smiled. Pulled my shorts back up. Finished my lift.

The room exploded with laughter, and life went on.

For me, it was just a hilarious blip in the chaos of growing up. For the school administration?

DEFCON 1.

The next day, Dean was expelled. Four weeks from graduation, no second chances.

I fought it.

I told them I wasn’t traumatized.

I told them I was fine.

Their response?

"You should be upset."

"This will scar you for life."

"You just don’t know it yet."

No matter what I said, they kept pushing a version of the story onto me—a version where I was broken, victimized, and doomed to carry invisible scars.

But here’s the thing:

I wasn’t.

I wasn’t broken.

I wasn’t scarred.

I wasn’t even bruised.

I had a funny story. A good laugh. A weird drafty memory.And that was it.

The Deeper Lesson:

Sometimes, the real damage isn’t what happens to us. It’s when we let someone else tell us what it should mean.

Other people’s narratives—no matter how well-meaning—are just that: theirs. Not yours. And the moment we start letting them define our reality, we lose authorship of our own story.

This is why Narrative Coaching matters.

Because people don’t need us to fix their stories.

They need us to sit beside them, patiently and curiously, while they realize:

The pen was always in their hand.

Want to Explore This More?

Join us for a free 90-minute session:

Rewriting the Script: An Intro to Narrative Coaching

Monday, April 28 | 12:00–1:30 PM Central

Discover how story shapes identity, how coaching can transform lives without fixing or prescribing, and why the edges of someone’s story are where the real breakthroughs begin.

Perfect for coaches, leaders, and anyone curious about the power of narrative.Let’s explore what becomes possible when people reclaim the pen.

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