What We Inherit, What We Choose: unpacking your inherited beliefs

When I was younger, I used to tell people, “Oh, I don’t like mustard.” Not because I’d tried it. Not because I had some strong dislike. But because my mom always said, “We don’t like mustard.” And somewhere along the way, I adopted it as my own truth. I didn’t question it—why would I? It felt like a small, shared identity. A certainty.

Until one day in my twenties, I tried honey mustard. And guess what? I liked it...a lot.

And it got me thinking: How many other things have I believed simply because someone I loved told me they were true?

That may sound silly on the surface—but we all have our mustard. The inherited beliefs.The family sayings. The “this is how we do things” rules that shape how we relate to ourselves and the world.

have you ever sat down and questioned why you believe what you do?

We don’t talk about feelings.

We always say yes.

We don’t rest until everything’s done.

We spend every holiday together.

We keep the peace.

We don’t need help.

We don't talk about money.

We don’t like mustard.

It’s the invisible curriculum of our early life. Psychologist and author Harriet Lerner writes in The Dance of Anger about how we often adopt roles and rules in our families that shape our adult relationships until we consciously examine them. And in Untangled, Lisa Damour describes adolescence as the developmental season where we begin to individuate—asking, often for the first time, What do I think? What do I believe? Who am I apart from the people who raised me?

But this process isn’t limited to teenagers. Many of us revisit it in adulthood. Especially when life cracks us open. That’s what individuation is about: Not rejecting where we come from, but separating enough to see clearly. Not in rebellion—but in reflection.

We start to ask:

Where did this belief come from? Does it still feel true for me?What do I want to carry forward—and what am I ready to let go?

In her book Mother Hunger, Kelly McDaniel calls this process “sorting the sacred from the familiar.” Sometimes we keep things because they are precious. Other times, simply because they are familiar—even if they no longer serve us.

Some of what we’ve inherited still fits beautifully. Some never did. And some, like honey mustard, might surprise us. The point isn’t to reject it all. The point is to become aware of what shaped us—so we can choose what shapes us now.

To say:

I come from this. And I’m also allowed to become something new.

✨ A reflection for you:

What’s your mustard?

What have you believed or practiced without ever asking if it was actually yours?

What belief, story, or rule are you ready to revisit—with compassion and curiosity?