The Power of Stories

I have come to a place in my life where the simple act of writing my story has become pertinent to my capacity to thrive. I make my living in stories. Not in the traditional sense of telling stories or writing novels. I am a person who holds stories. I am a trauma therapist. I create space to hold the stories that have kept people trapped in a cycle of shame and survival. These stories are vibrant and complex. They are deeply private. And they are heavy.

There is something sacred about being invited into these deeply private, complex and vibrant stories. I am often struck by the human capacity to find a way to survive through unrelenting hardship. I am also struck by how incredibly powerful stories are. From the moment we are born, our entire life is a story. The way that we are able to tell our story shapes the way that we are able to experience it.

Some people have had opportunity to learn the art of sharing and holding stories. This is a beautiful part of the human experience. The exchange of experience and the intertwining of stories is the foundation of community. People thrive in environments where they are free to share their stories in a way that connects with the stories of others. This is how we learn from one another and grow vibrant relationships.

Some of us learned at an early age that our stories are not to be shared. We learned that sharing our stories was radically unsafe. It led to ridicule, rejection and resentment. I learned early in life, that my story was insignificant compared to others around me. I was a burden and a threat to the reputation of my family. So, I learned not to share my experiences. I learned instead, to become a listener. I learned to listen to what was said. I learned to listen to what was not said. I learned to read the nuisance of tone and body language. I learned to listen to key phrases with hidden meanings. I learned to read atmosphere. But most of all, I learned to be silent, because that is what kept me safe.

When you make a living listening to the stories of others, inevitably it drives you to relisten to your own stories. I have a good story to tell and it no longer serves me to keep it hidden. My story may well be a threat to the reputation of others, but that is not because I am a burden. It is because they have something to hide.

I am not here to expose anyone, and it is not my intention to seek recompense or reconciliation. But it is time for me to share my story and give a voice to my experience. One of the beautiful things about sharing hidden stories is that it allows us to reframe the unhelpful narratives that have kept us hidden for so long. We flourish when we are able to share ourselves in a way that unburdens the pain of the past and connects us through our common experiences.

So, welcome to this part of my story. I am not yet sure where this will lead. There are many things that I hope for, but I feel like creating this space is the best next step along that journey.