We are all unreliable narrators of our own motives. And feeling something neither proves nor disproves its existence.

The instinct in me to hide it was so strong that I lied in my diary. I wanted no record of that wreck.

The same way that I have taught my mind and my body to collaborate in a habitual set of practices that eventually coalesce into a skill that can be strengthened, such as throwing a softball, singing, jogging long distances, or writing—so I have found it possible to train my mind to act in accordance with my beliefs (and sometimes to discover what

During it, we learn to adopt a story about ourselves—what our value is, what beauty is, what is harmful and what is normal—and to privilege the feelings, comfort, perceptions, and power of others over our own.