It’s Taking a Long Time, and That’s Okay

I had a memoir coaching session last week that left me feeling… well, not great. Not because it was unkind exactly, but because she kept saying:

“So you’ve been working on your memoir for 14 years...”

Followed by some version of, “And you’re not making any real progress now?”

Every time she said it, I winced. I could feel tension pulling my shoulders up to my ears. I could hear my tone shift to defensiveness. I really don’t think she meant to hurt me. I don’t think she even realized how it felt when she was just reflecting my own words back to me.

Yes, I have been working on my memoir for a long time. I’ve said before that my manuscript doesn’t thank me when I show up for it—not like my community, not like this Substack, not like you do. It’s hard to find the time. It’s hard to prioritize this book above all the other projects in my life.

Still, that doesn’t mean I’ve been standing still. I have been writing. And I have been making progress. I have been thinking, revising, living. Supporting other writers. Holding space. I’ve poured time, energy, money, and so much love into the writing world. That’s not nothing. That’s something amazing, actually.

And yes, I do carry shame about how long it’s taking. It’s hard not to, in a world that prizes speed and productivity. But then I think about people like

Brooke Warner

, who’s openly said she’s waiting until her kids are older before publishing her memoir—and she’s still a powerful voice in the writing world.

We all have different timelines. Different feelings for when a story is ready. Today, when I was journaling, when I wrote, “Maybe I just need to own it and stop feeling so bad about it,” I felt a release and a rush of joy. I’m learning to trust that my way is valid too.

Today, I am at a weekend writing retreat with some of my favorite Munich writers. All week leading up to this, I struggled with the conflicting priorities in my writing life. How could I focus on my memoir when I have an anthology for my community to edit? Or what about that client manuscript that I’m being paid to edit? And that Substack post isn’t going to write itself! And on and on…

But now, after I hit send, I am going to open Scrivener and I’m going to make progress on my memoir.

I know I will finish one day. I’m going to keep showing up for myself, for this long, winding, deeply human process. And I’m also going to keep showing up for you, for my community, for my clients, and I’m also going to take plenty of time along the way to enjoy this life that I’m writing about.

If you’re taking your time, too—if your story still isn’t done—I see you. You’re not alone. You’re not failing. You’re just still becoming.