Once we decide to write, we are comfortable with itâ € “we have memories and stories that shape who we are. We want to explore ourselves, to capture the times long gone and preserve them in story form. To leave a legacy for our lives. But other voices compete with our writingâ € “â € œwhat people will think that you should be ashamed, you will annoy family. Donâ € ™ t air dirty laundry, you know only a part of the truth, so be quiet. Your mother would roll over in her grave if she found out you wrote it. â €?

We know all these votes. They make us throw down the pen, sit back and turn on the television. We donâ € ™ t want to lose our family. We donâ € ™ t want to make them angry. Writing a memoir is an act of courage, self-distrust powerful family dynamics. We need to find a way out.

As a family therapist, I have worked with many families, and because of my background, Iâ € ™ m able to help my coaching clients to understand the reason for their reluctance to write their stories, and the source of the critic voice inside.

When we write memories, we regain our own voice, we stake a claim to our version of the story. Each family has multiple story lines. There are â € œofficialâ €? version, controlled by the most powerful people in the family, usually parents or those who have most to lose. The â € œlesserâ €? points viewâ € “mostly by children or less in powerâ €” often not believed or accepted as true.

Who decides which version of a story to believe? Who has not listened to? If the view is undesirable? The answers to these questions will be decided by family dynamics and power.

In most families there is a â € œscapegoat, â €? or a clown, or the most sensitive. People in these roles may hold a unique and unpopular, the perception of family stories and those with most power may try to suppress it.

A memoirist must begin by writing her story in a protected bubble so the story can develop. Beware of your writing environment, and protect you from the forces that will derail your efforts.

Find out the power dynamics in your family. If the critic voice stops you, write down what it says. Try to find the original source of these voices in your background.

Begin with a imageâ € “a photograph is often a good prompt. Write in your own natural voice.

voices say: â € œI donâ € ™ t know how to write, my family will hate me, how can I know I write the truth. â €? donâ € ™ t stop. Write anyway. Your critic / family protector will try to silence you. If you were silent when you were growing up, you will need to work through now.

NOT hit the delete button when you are feeling critical after writing. DO protect your writing from prying family or friend attackers. Treat your job as a young plant that require protection.

Find supportive people to write with. Sign in cafe © s, writing groups where you feel you support or at least no attacks.

Remember: If youâ € ™ ve been abused, neglected, forgotten, or silence, you have probably learned not to appreciate your own perspective. Writing your own history can change that. Hold â € œtelling it like it is. â €?

Write to five minutes. A further 15 minutes. Strech your ability to stick to a story. When you want to stop writing for five more minutes. We are tempted to stop when we get close to the core feeling of a story.

Beginning, Critic, Despite, family, Guilt, Memoir, Voices