The Happiness Audit: Why Your Past Still Matters

When I sit with people in therapy, I’m often reminded of a moment from my own life.

A few years ago, I was cleaning out a box of old things in my closet—just trying to make space. At the bottom, I found a worn-out notebook from middle school. I opened it and suddenly I was right back there: the classroom, the kids I wanted to impress, the fear of making a mistake.

I noticed something important. Even though I was standing in my own home, safe and grown, my body reacted like that anxious twelve-year-old was still running the show. My heart sped up, my shoulders tensed, and a voice in my head whispered, “Don’t mess this up.”

That’s when it struck me again, in a very personal way:
our past doesn’t stay neatly behind us. It lives in our reactions, our beliefs, our relationships…often without us realizing it.

As a therapist, I see this every day. People come in saying things like, “I don’t know why I get so upset about small things,” or “My life is pretty good—why am I not happier?” Very often, the answer has roots in experiences that were never fully seen, felt, or understood.

Now, I want to be clear: having a painful past is not a sign that you’re broken. Many people grow tremendous strength from hard experiences. But when those experiences are never processed, they don’t disappear. They settle in quietly and start shaping how we see ourselves and what we believe we deserve.

So I like to invite people to do something I call a happiness audit—a gentle, honest check-in with your own story.

That might look like sitting down with old photos or memories and asking yourself:

• Where do I feel warmth and joy?

• Where do I feel a knot in my stomach, or a heaviness in my chest?

• Are there chapters of my life I never really allowed myself to think about?

You’re not doing this to blame anyone or to relive every painful detail. You’re doing it to notice:
“Is there a younger part of me that still needs kindness, validation, or protection?”

When we begin to look at our past this way, something powerful can happen. The memories don’t vanish—but our relationship to them changes. Instead of running away from them or being quietly ruled by them, we start to hold them with more understanding.

Over time, you may find that the same old memory no longer has the same grip on you. You might remember what happened and feel sadness, or compassion—but not the same level of panic or shame. That is often what healing looks like in real life.

We cannot rewrite what has already happened. But we can decide how we respond to it now. By gently auditing our own story—by noticing what still hurts and allowing ourselves support, whether through therapy, journaling, or trusted relationships—we create room for more peace and genuine happiness in the present.

And if you take nothing else from this, let it be this:
Your past has shaped you, but it does not have to define the rest of your life. You are allowed to grow beyond it.