So many people want to be writers but only a select few are okay with diving deep into their repressed memories to sift through their emotions for long enough to give more meaning to the stories they’re trying to share.

Is that a requirement for being a writer?

Not exclusively.

But there’s an inexplicable need for it when you get to the root of why we write.

We don’t all write for the same reasons but one of the few reasons that I have for putting all that I do into being a writer is the release. Writing helps me to take my time unpacking a subject. It helps me to organize my thoughts and step outside of my own picture frame in a way. Being able to go back to a piece and read it from a perspective that is a little different than the one it was written from allows me to see my subject —even if that subject is me— in a new light.

Everything I’ve written, to date, stemmed from something deeply significant to me. As a result, there has always been some sort of intense shift or release upon completion. Those shifts that fell just short of a full release had a way of provoking more unpacking, more writing and more releasing.

The benefits are clear. That’s why you’re here. So let’s get into how to get past your fears and write your real.

One of the reasons why people write shallow pieces is the fear of the process of digging in.

It makes sense. Excavating your trauma and reliving it, even just for the sake of writing it out, is a different kind of painful. Trusting that there is freedom past that pain is where the desire to do it anyway comes from.

Another fear is wondering what others will think and say about you and your truth.

Of course people will talk. If they know you, conversations will stem from “I had no idea she was going through all that” to, “well, I mean, she brought it on herself” and so many things in between.

The thing to remember is, this is for you. Getting free requires vulnerability and transparency and letting the fear of opinions stop you from purging is like suffering the build up of toxins in your body because you’re afraid that someone might find out that you’re human and that your bowels need to move.

Get that sh*t out!

Writing your truth requires you to live your truth, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. It requires that you take accountability for the things that aren’t the greatest and allow yourself to try again despite previous errors.

The moment you take charge of your life — doing and saying only what you have intentionally thought through and decided was right for you, that’s when you know you’re ready to write your real.

There was a time when all of my angst was written in the form of what others did to me. Then I grew up. Realizing that even in my most victimized moments, I held more power than I knew. Writing from the perspective of this is what happened and why, this is how I felt about it and this is what I’m doing about it now was a much better fit for me than this is what they did to me and I’m mad about it.

Taking control of the story in real life helped me to take control of the story in my writing and gave me a better position to share from. Writing about trials and tribulations from a position of power [over said trials and tribulations] has helped me to be at peace about sharing and sharing honestly. There’s less fear for what others might think when I know I’ve already won.

Things to think about as you write:

  1. Is this story complete enough [in real life] for me to feel comfortable writing transparently about it?

  2. What [emotions] am I trying to share?

  3. What do I want my readers to get out of it?

  4. Is there any [necessary] part of this story that I’m afraid of telling? If so, why?

  5. Do I feel freer having written this?

Now that you know what’s preventing you from writing the real in the stories you share, I hope you’ll give yourself the opportunity to find your most complete release.



Kimolee ErynComment