What’s your version of the truth?

My man Jeff and I took a three-day scouting trip to Greenville before I decided to move there.

We stayed at the Poinsette Hotel downtown, whose zip code I plugged into an apartment finder site to zero in on a place to live.

The search returned a list of complexes, and I got scared reading the reviews—theft and rats weren’t what I had in mind for a place to call home.

I tweaked my criteria and got a shorter list, but the reviews still weren’t great. Nothing particularly scared me, though, so I contacted a few places to go check them out; only one responded, and I signed a lease.

“How’s your new place?” people asked me.

“Oh, it’s adequate,” I’d reply.

And I kept up that answer until one day I thought, What the hell am I saying?

Hadn’t I wanted to move to Greenville?

Hadn’t I needed an apartment to make that happen?

Hadn’t an apartment without rats shown up?

Yes, yes, and yes.

But instead of focusing on the “yeses,” I paid attention to the “nos.”

No, the apartment wasn’t as nice as my (former) condo in Atlanta.

No, my neighbors didn’t seem to be “my kind of people”—you know, the kind who threw dinner parties.

No, there wasn’t a washer-dryer in my unit.

And those “nos” may have been true, but there were—and always are—other truths at play.

Yes, my housing costs had dropped by over $1,000 bucks a month.

Yes, my neighbors were “my kind of people”—you know, the friendly kind.

Yes, I could do two loads of laundry at once and be done faster.

Is your version of the truth in your best interest?

If there’s something you don’t feel great about these days, I’d wager a bet that you’re telling yourself sub-optimal truths about it.

Why not do yourself a favor and focus on the “yeses” taking place?

Not only will you feel better, better things tend to happen when you do.