Mindset Preparation: Writing Is Discovery, Not Diagnosis

Before you begin, think of writing your story as a process of discovery, not a search for closure or a clinical diagnosis.

Skilled therapists would say: allow emotions to surface, but don’t expect to resolve everything in one draft.

Trauma researcher Dr. Bessel van der Kolk emphasizes the importance of “narrative reconstruction”—organizing memories with a beginning, middle, and end—to help the brain process past events. . 

However, unlike therapy, this process doesn’t require interpretation or confrontation. It simply requires honesty, curiosity, and compassion toward yourself.

🔹 Set an intention for your writing time. Start with a grounding practice like deep breathing, lighting a candle, or journaling a few affirmations such as “I am safe to tell the truth,” or “This story belongs to me.”

Writing Tip: Don’t Write the Trauma Scene First

When writing about painful memories or inherited trauma, experts say don’t start with the hardest part. Instead, surround the story.

Memoirist Mary Karr (The Liars’ Club) suggests finding the emotional truth before chasing every factual detail. This means you can begin by writing around the edges of a traumatic moment—what came before, or what came after.

“Don’t write the hot core first. Write what you can. Circle in closer when you’re ready.”
— Mary Karr

I don't completely agree with this.

When I wrote about returning home to find my 40 year-old son had passed,  that's where I began that memory. 

I say begin writing whatever part of the emotional experience you can manage. 

✍️ Write a softer scene first if that feels right to you: a quiet conversation, a scent that brings you back, a family object with history. Let that guide you toward the deeper truths.

Encouragement: You Are the Author, Not the Event

As you write, remember: You are not re-living your past. You are re-storying it.

Therapist and author Resmaa Menakem, who writes about intergenerational trauma (My Grandmother’s Hands), advises that when we witness pain without judgment, we begin to loosen its grip. The same applies to memoir.

“Trauma decontextualized in a person can look like personality. But trauma contextualized in a family or culture becomes a story of resilience.”
— Resmaa Menakem

You’re not “going back” into your pain—you’re bringing it forward, into the light of your own language and perspective. This is empowering. You decide what to include, what to leave out, and how to frame the journey.

🕊 Even if parts of your story are painful, the very act of naming them can begin to heal what silence has hidden.

You can read the story I wrote about my son at A Script of Grief: A Mother's Healing Begins.

Takeaway: Writing Can Be a Mirror and a Window

Writing your life story can be therapeutic, even if it's not therapy. Why? Because it allows for self-compassion, coherence, and meaning-making—all core components of emotional healing.

Memoirist Cheryl Strayed (Wild) didn’t write about her grief and self-destruction to give answers, but to understand the terrain of loss and find herself again.

“You don’t have a right to the cards you believe you should have been dealt. You have an obligation to play the hell out of the ones you’re holding.”
— Cheryl Strayed

When you write through the lens of insight, not revenge or blame, you transform memory into meaning. That’s when personal writing becomes universally powerful.

🌱 Ask: How did this experience shape me? What did I learn? What do I wish to release?

Insider Tip: Use “Containers” for Emotional Safety

Therapists often recommend emotional “containers”—clear boundaries that protect you from becoming overwhelmed. In writing, this could mean:

• Timed sessions (e.g., write for 20 minutes, then stop—even if you're in the middle).

• Writing rituals (play calming music, light a candle, use a specific pen or journal).

• Body check-ins (pause to ask: “What am I feeling right now?”).

Psychotherapist and writer Lori Gottlieb (Maybe You Should Talk to Someone) explains that “narrative identity”—the way we understand ourselves through our stories—can change as we heal. Writing regularly allows you to revisit old stories with fresh perspective.

🛑 If you start feeling dysregulated, step away. Don’t force catharsis. Growth often comes in the reflection afterward, not in the writing itself.

Final Note: Transformation Is in the Telling

Writing your life story won't likely fix the past—but it gives it shape, which allows you to see who you've become because of it, not in spite of it.

As trauma-informed writing coach Jen Cross (Writing Ourselves Whole) says, "You get to tell your story on your own terms. That’s the revolution."

You are not broken because your life includes pain. You are whole because you chose to give your pain a voice—and in doing so, reclaimed your power.

✨ Remember: your story is not just about what happened. It's about the meaning you made, the strength you gathered, and the life you’re still creating.

 Flora M. Brown, Ph.D.

P.S. ✅ Not sure how to get started with your life story? Let me open the door and point the way. Book a 30-minute Discovery Chat with me at Dr.FloraWillChat