How’s Your Memoir Going?
It’s a question that well-meaning friends, family members, or writing buddies ask to show they care. I know this comes from a place of kindness, but it often feels like a punch in the gut, like a test I forgot to study for.
And even when things are going well, the question still lands with a thud because in my mind, it’s never enough. It’s not finished. It’s not polished enough. It’s not good enough, and I worry it (and I) never will be good enough.
Before I started writing my memoir, I had no idea how much of this was a mental game. I thought the hardest thing would be finding the time to write. But if I’m honest with myself, I do have the time, I just prioritize everything else ahead of my memoir. I pour my time and energy into my writing community. I get instant feedback. Gratitude. A sense of being useful. My manuscript? It doesn’t thank me. It just stares at me.
I’m starting to think that maybe this isn’t a discipline problem either… Maybe it’s a self-worth problem. A fear problem. And it’s all tangled up with the worry that other people’s stories matter more than mine.
The Inner Critic Knows My Calendar
My inner critic is crafty. She has backed off on yelling insults and has moved on to rearranging my to-do list. She convinces me that helping other writers is more important and time-sensitive than my own meaningless deadlines. She tells me that writing this Substack is technically memoir work, so maybe it’s okay that I haven’t touched my manuscript for two weeks.
The hardest part is that it feels so good to help others. It feels productive and uplifting. My writing community and my readers here give me so much. Their stories and accomplishments fill me with inspiration. And they thank me for showing up. I don’t want to give that up. I know this is important work.
But at some point, I have to ask: Who is standing up for the story I need to tell?
Writing Here Reminds Me I Can
Substack has been a kind of lifeline. When I write here, it doesn’t feel as hard. I don’t expect it to be perfect. I don’t edit it twelve times before showing it to the world. I just write something true. And you respond. You show me that I’m not alone. That’s enough to keep me coming back.
And maybe, bit by bit, it’ll help me come back to my memoir, too. And help me release this perfectionism that haunts me. Help me shed some of those fears. Help me believe that my story is also worth telling.
So… How’s your Memoir going? 😂❤
Does this question torment you or is it just me?
This is very relatable, Christina. Maybe a trick is to use your connection with your writing community and helping others as the reward you give yourself after you've worked on your manuscript.
Snippets of my memoir are going on my substack . If sharing the work is my goal, this is one way to do it.