<<It emerged from the muck and mess of intergenerational trauma, and the writing of a century-old story that, unbeknownst to me, was meant to be hidden. It is the story of what happened — emotionally, physically, spiritually, professionally — when a writer’s world imploded as the result of telling a simple but dangerous tale about one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath.<<
Thank you for writing this, Elissa. I can't wait for your book to come out.
I officially declared the first draft of my memoir done yesterday. My mother's response to the news was to tell me she was feeling "all kinds of feelings" about me finishing it, which is fair and also a not-so-subtle dig that she can't help, I think. Self-protection and excuses run in her veins, and I love her even so.
I'm looking forward to Permission. It will be good company in these next stages of the storytelling.
Will be ordering a copy of Permission straight away! After half a century of stuffing down my story I have begun to tell it - terrifying but necessary.
Thank you for this. I have a memoir written that's waiting for me to get off my ass and do the painting for, because it's meant to be a graphic memoir. This post had me jot down three different things that I need to add to it, if only I can get over the fear of my brother's reaction. I knew that fear was there, but I was still allowing it to curtail what I include in my memoir. Ultimately, this is a way in which I have yet to grow up. I'm 65 years old, so it's time to grow up.
“one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath..” the consequences of my own leaving I have yet to fully articulate even to myself. We are our own first readers.
Happy New Year, Elissa! Thank you for inspiring me this past year. I think I’ve said it before, but I will repeat it. I’m excited to read Permission. Cheers to self-accountability and deeper writing in 2025.
Thank you for reminding me that I do indeed have permission to tell my story as I have. My substack has missed me for well over a year, as I let the trauma keep me from continuing to process and write as I was. I can only tell it how I’ve experienced or felt it. I gave myself permission once before, and the intrusive once again blocked me. It’s time to take up my words in power. Thank you dear friend and mentor.
I literally got chills when reading this passage:
<<It emerged from the muck and mess of intergenerational trauma, and the writing of a century-old story that, unbeknownst to me, was meant to be hidden. It is the story of what happened — emotionally, physically, spiritually, professionally — when a writer’s world imploded as the result of telling a simple but dangerous tale about one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath.<<
Thank you for writing this, Elissa. I can't wait for your book to come out.
I officially declared the first draft of my memoir done yesterday. My mother's response to the news was to tell me she was feeling "all kinds of feelings" about me finishing it, which is fair and also a not-so-subtle dig that she can't help, I think. Self-protection and excuses run in her veins, and I love her even so.
I'm looking forward to Permission. It will be good company in these next stages of the storytelling.
Will be ordering a copy of Permission straight away! After half a century of stuffing down my story I have begun to tell it - terrifying but necessary.
Thank you for this. I have a memoir written that's waiting for me to get off my ass and do the painting for, because it's meant to be a graphic memoir. This post had me jot down three different things that I need to add to it, if only I can get over the fear of my brother's reaction. I knew that fear was there, but I was still allowing it to curtail what I include in my memoir. Ultimately, this is a way in which I have yet to grow up. I'm 65 years old, so it's time to grow up.
My New Years gift to myself is a paid subscription- giving myself permission to do what I want to do
🙏🏽 Elissa, you are a guiding light. I will never be able to explain how mich the timing and tone of your words have meant to me.
This was a lovely New Year's post to start the year rolling.
“one young woman’s heart-rending decision to leave her family, and the decision’s aftermath..” the consequences of my own leaving I have yet to fully articulate even to myself. We are our own first readers.
Happy New Year, Elissa! Thank you for inspiring me this past year. I think I’ve said it before, but I will repeat it. I’m excited to read Permission. Cheers to self-accountability and deeper writing in 2025.
This came to my inbox at quite the right moment. Looking forward to your book! Thank you for sharing.
I'm so eagerly awaiting my copy -- think it will be Spring in France!
I can’t wait for this.
Thank you for your post. Congratulations on your upcoming book. The cover is beautiful.
Thank you Faye!
Thank you for this.
❤️
Thank you for reminding me that I do indeed have permission to tell my story as I have. My substack has missed me for well over a year, as I let the trauma keep me from continuing to process and write as I was. I can only tell it how I’ve experienced or felt it. I gave myself permission once before, and the intrusive once again blocked me. It’s time to take up my words in power. Thank you dear friend and mentor.