I recently consulted an herbalist about some symptoms I’m experiencing that seem related to perimenopause. When he started by asking my age and immediately followed with, “You’re too young to have perimenopausal symptoms,” I stopped listening.

And then I started an internal rant.

Really?! Is it written somewhere that a nearly-44-year-old woman couldn’t possibly be stepping toward the threshold of menopause? Did I miss the worldwide announcement about the correct and only acceptable age for perimenopause to begin? Should I just go with your excellent theory, ignore my intuition, and supplement for some completely unrelated reason?

That was my inside voice.

I politely excused myself and went straight to my keyboard.

That experience got me to thinking about societal benchmarks and opinions that have kept us small, led us to second-guess ourselves, sent us packing in the opposite direction of self-trust. Not to mention that it got me a little fired up to write about the seemingly simple, sometimes off-handed comments that pack a wallop with their potent, covert directives (however unintended).

Much of this conditioning starts when we are young, instigated by well-meaning parents. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. This is right. That is wrong.

WHILE MANY OF THOSE CUES ARE A NECESSARY PART OF OUR DEVELOPMENT, HELPING TO SHAPE OUR INTEGRITY AND MORALS, SOME OF THEM BECOME THE BUILDING BLOCKS THAT SLOWLY STACK AND OVER TIME BUILD INTO FULL-BLOWN, SELF-PERPETUATED FALSE BELIEFS.

Repeated one too many times, these statements can become the guiding principles that eventually lead us to twist ourselves to become something that we are not.

Consider some of the things that many parents have said to their children and what that came to mean:

You shouldn’t like boys (to a boy) translates to: Being gay is wrong.Then you painstakingly cover up the fact that you are gay.

Why is Sarah taking so many art classes? translates to: [purple]Art isn’t a worthy subject of pursuit.[/purple] Then you give up your talent for and love of art.

You really shouldn’t question your teachers translates to: Don’t stand up for yourself. Then you marry a person that walks all over you.

Isn’t Rachel a beautiful girl (Rachel is super slender)? translates to: You need to be more like Rachel. Then you become bulimic.

I’m not implying that phrases like this will always lead to such drastic translations and actions. Nor that we should blame our parents for all of our ills.

However, when things like this are spoken over and over to a child or adolescent, whose brain is still shaping, opinions still forming, doesn’t it make sense that those phrases can easily shape a person’s reality over time? Repetition becoming the forging tool?

Then we add the societal layer. Cultural overlays that reinforce the stories of our upbringing. Media headlines holding us to ridiculous, often random standards.

Statements about why wrinkles should be avoided at all costs, the fact that “still single at 35” isn’t a good thing. Insinuations that not going to college means you are less-than, if you haven’t accomplished 40 things by noon, you must be unproductive or depressed.

IT’S NO WONDER THAT WE ALL, AT ONE TIME OR ANOTHER, HOLD OURSELVES TO IMPOSSIBLE, CONFIDENCE-STRIPPING STANDARDS. STANDARDS THAT DON’T EVEN ALIGN WITH OUR TRUE BELIEFS.

The hard part is discerning our own, internal guidelines. Recognizing and challenging false, outside-of-us criteria set by MD’s, politicians, the boss that doesn’t really get us, our generations-past grandmothers.

It can be doubly difficult when we’ve carried a belief since childhood, one that is deeply rooted in our psyche.

For much of my young life, I was pretty certain that I didn’t want to have children. However, I grew up surrounded by people that had only one standard: You go to college, get married, and have children. When I was 34 (still unmarried, no kids), I attended a wedding, during which an old college “friend” told me that he thought I was selfish if I didn’t have children.

Yes, he really said that.

At the time, I wasn’t totally clear about my internal beliefs versus societal ones, so hearing that sent me into a tailspin for awhile. Was I really sure about my choice?

This is why discernment is so important. Others’ beliefs can envelop us to the point of dismantling our internal compass.

We have to do the work to peel ourselves away from the sticky lure of those limiting and false voices so that we can listen for our own guidance. To recognize stories that have built up over time, ones that we’ve outgrown or that were never ours to carry, and shed them.

AT THE SAME TIME, WE HAVE TO BE WILLING TO NOT USE OUR OWN STANDARDS AS THE BASIS FOR JUDGING OTHERS OR RATIONALIZING BAD BEHAVIOR.

This process can be challenging. It takes self-assurance. Conviction. Resilience. Perseverance. Oftentimes a huge dose of courage that feels a lot like defiance.

And sometimes we just have to get fired up to know where we stand.