Myths are common events invested with emotional substance by those who kept telling them. Emotional substance, more than a hundred years old = wonderful, magical, ideal… etc., you know. All that shit. Well, it’s the same, for every one of us, with our lives. Childhood becomes a myth. Hell, even an ordinary event happened ten years ago becomes something magical to some (most?) people. High-school times… College times… First date (if those two ended in marriage)… Wedding day… First child…
Anything, not just the highlighted days, can accumulate magic over time. If their subjects want to.
There’s no truth in feelings. Only subjective wish. (life)
There’s no truth in stories based on the feelings of millions of dead people. (myths)