There are lots of reasons why you might avoid painful truths in your writing. If you want your story to resonate, you may need to face them.
As a writing coach, one of the more amazing aspects of helping people realize their book-writing dreams is being beside them through their writing struggles. Doubts, fears, and lack of confidence can be intense, but there is joy in navigating emotional and creative challenges — especially when doubts and impediments are conquered once and for all. I get the honor of sharing the profound moments when writers have breakthroughs and find the freedom that comes from seeing themselves in their own stories.
Which leads me to the story of Cindy, a 68 year-old woman I met through my writing retreats who has been keeping journals since she was 11. As you can imagine, over nearly 60 years, Cindy has documented many substantial experiences — some grief-filled, others life-affirming.
Time to write a book
For over a decade, Cindy had the dream of compiling her stories into a book, but she was overwhelmed by how to address the mass of material and how to organize the vast body of work. While book composing logistics are overwhelming and can stifle progress, I find that, very often, at the heart of writing hesitation is a fear of seeing one’s Self. Interestingly, though she’s been writing her whole life, Cindy didn’t even have the confidence to call herself a writer.
Still, over the past few years, Cindy’s desire to complete her book became a need. After being married for 43 years to the only man she’d ever been with, she went through a difficult divorce. Her former husband was an emotionally abusive alcoholic. As Cindy began to feel, see, and cherish her own worth, she gathered immense courage and made a tenuous yet profoundly bold move to declare her independence. For Cindy, completing her book correlated to taking a firm stand in reclaiming her Self.
Writing in third-person
While married, Cindy spent decades remaining silent, distant, and emotionally closed. She never gave herself an opportunity to use her words or writing to reflect how she felt, what she thought, or how she coped in crisis. She reported events at an emotional distance, almost as a third-person witness, as if her difficult circumstances were happening to someone else. Language was generalized and detached. She talked about disappointments and failures in a formulaic way, even through devastating and life-altering circumstances.
In one of our coached writing sessions, Cindy made a profound discovery. Even though she had written hundreds of stories over the years about things that happened in her life, she was markedly absent from her own narrative. There were few words about how she felt. Few words about how she coped. Few words about how she experienced unfolding tragedy, and how tragedy affected her. She was like a ghost in her own stories.
Self-preservation
I understand why. Cindy wasn’t at a point in life where she could fully converse through her own writing about the complexity of her trauma. Putting aside what others might think, writing truth as we understand it with no fear of judgement is no easy endeavor. Fear of unearthing deeper, darker emotional currents has everything to do with how much or how little we include of our Selves in our own stories. Up until then, Cindy had never gotten to know the sound, texture, or tone of her own truth.
Although the discovery of her absence in her own stories was upsetting, the clarity it brought was liberating. Once Cindy realized that her own feelings and thoughts were missing from her stories, she realized how many years she’d never felt safe, seen, or worthy of expressing herself. Thus, every aspect of her writing, including the quality and honesty of her words — were impacted.
Back where you belong
With a newfound motivation and perspective, Cindy spent an hour revising a disjointed chapter of the piece she was working on. When finished, the results were profound. Her writing sparkled — the story sprang to life. It was emotional, candid, relatable, and deeply moving.
By inserting her Self — her truth, her feelings, her reflections — into her writing, Cindy’s stories had the meaning and purpose she’d been searching for. By the end of the retreat, she boldly proclaimed herself a writer! Through writing — through honest exploration, trust, and acceptance — Cindy was able to see her Self.
”See Your Self” writing prompt
Wherever you are in your writing journey, here are questions that may be helpful for your writing and revision process to help you see and connect with your Self.
What happened (the inciting incident)?
How do you feel about what happened?
What have you learned from what happened?
How has this shaped you?
How does this show up in your current life?
What residual effects or realities linger from what happened?
Were any old notions crushed by a new understanding?
Does what happened then dictate what happens now?
Who were you when this happened?
How did you relate to what happened then?
How do you relate to what happened now?
Would you change what happened if you could?
If this didn’t happen, how would things be different?
How would you be different?
Who are you because of what happened?
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Very enlightening, thank you
Hi Valentina, thank you for sharing your feedback. I’m happy it offered you inspiration. Happy writing and cheers to your 2023 of expression! :-)
A very, very good article. Since I am sick I lately have learned a lot about myself, my life and my reactions to the happenings. Because I have the time to think. This article showed me to question my reactions. So far I only wrote about who and what and how I would like to have been. Not how I really was.
The article showed I should have reacted differently to certain happenings and that I can use it in my writing. The only question is: what would have happened if I reacted differently? Cindy fleshes out her feelings. I can only regret that I didn’t have the courage to live my life differently.
First, and most importantly, I hope your health is on the mend. I appreciate the reflection and feedback. It takes a lot to see ourselves in our own stories; to allow for the places and spaces where WE actually have a say and experience we make room for. The allowance for Cindy to place herself into her own story was a game-changer in her writing. We can only take things when and how we’re able to. Everyone’s got their own conversation to grapple with. Warm wishes for your continued health and expression journey.