Write Something That Scares You Every Day: 3 Tips

This morning, over coffee, I hit send on a submission that terrifies me.

I'm not shy when talking or writing about my personal history of abuse, but this essay is one I have been sitting on for three years because it tells something more than simply truth; it tells the reality of surviving violence as a child at the hands of parents who worked to change, but before they worked to change. Basically, this essay holds my parents accountable for their mistakes.

What is hard about that? When writing the essay, I was not at peace with the events it contains. It was a necessary write, something I had to get out of my body to be safe and healthy and move forward in healing the damage sustained. Writing it meant exposing my family in a way I have never done by showing specific events that define me. Specific, horrific events we would all rather forget.

At the time of the initial writing, there was no forgiveness in my heart. Putting the story down was an act of acceptance. Yes, this happened to me. Yes, it was horrible. Yes, this shaped me.

Once I had purged the story, I began shaping it. I searched for later threads in my life that were connected. I was abused intermittently from birth to age 17. I turned my sights to when it stopped. I wrote that part because it was a closing of an open wound. But even that piece of the story was scary.

When recording our lives, an end is never the end.

My fear is that this story will be accepted. That it will be published and my family will see what I have exposed. I fear this despite having forgiven these events, having come to terms with them, because my family will certainly not be at terms or have forgiven themselves. It will hurt them to see the truth of their mistakes spilled across the page. But it would have hurt me more not to have written it. It is my story.

It is my practice to pick the scabs. Writing is about pouring all the poison from the wounds. Had I not written those events three years ago, not given them a shape and found an end point that was both satisfying and healing, I would not have transformed the pain attending the memories. I would not have peace over how I have become who I am.

Learning to write your fear is tricky. It requires many steps both forward and backward. If you are looking to write something that frightens you (and I encourage it), I have a handful of recommendations.

Set the scene.

Take the time to gather objects or clear a space and mentally prepare yourself to write. Maybe engage in a pre-writing ritual such as yoga or meditation or just taking a few deep breaths. Here is a yoga practice designed specifically for writing trauma.

Write with a group.

Groups provide a safety net. If you find yourself flailing, there is a hand nearby to hold onto. Truth be told, I often write my hardest work in coffee shops among strangers. It inhibits my panic to be in a public setting. But I also lead or join groups tackling tough topics. A weekend retreat is one of my favorite options. If you are near Indiana and interested, let me know and I can set one up.

Take a class.

I teach Writing through Trauma to Truth through the Elizabeth Ayres Center for Creative Writing. I am also available there as a writing coach. When you visit the site, look to the other classes and instructors as well. You will find your just right fit.

Writing what scares you is an incredibly powerful tool. When you do this, you always have control of your narrative. No matter what your memories say, you get to choose what you write. Making it a daily practice allows you to practice maintaining control of a narrative. Fear stems from a lack of control. Write yourself safe. You have this power.

If you have more suggestions for engaging tough topics, I'd love to connect with you. Please comment below!

images from pixabay.com