The Gift of Vulnerability in Memoir Writing
by Kathy Pooler
It is often said that writing a memoir is like standing naked in a public place. If one is going to write a story that will connect with others on a personal level, then one must be willing to connect with fear and shame.
In the twenty years of working on my second memoir, Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story of Healing and Hope, I can attest to the fact that, if done right, writing a memoir can be terrifying. It means making a commitment to the raw, ugly truth that would much rather stay buried in my psyche – the poor choices, the lack of insight, the denial that kept me from dealing with an addicted child in a healthy, life-affirming way. I lived in constant fear that he would die from his drinking.
Giving Voice to Courage and Shame
When I began to write my story of parenting an addicted child, I was still clinging to the notion that I had caused my son’s addiction to alcohol. As a result, I isolated myself, out of the fear of being exposed. As a defense, I denied the extent of the problem, telling myself that maybe this was just a teenaged phase that he would outgrow. As you can imagine, this was not a healthy or productive approach. Writing my feelings in a journal helped me to gain clarity on my responses to my son’s drinking.
With the help of family, friends, and my faith, I mustered the courage to admit that my son was addicted and that we both needed help. That first step in facing my vulnerability led me to feel compassion for myself: a young mother who tried so hard to have loving relationships and provide her children with a stable home.
Facing Our Fears Together
Vulnerability means staying with the feelings instead of rushing through them. Even though my son wasn’t yet well enough to stay sober, I visualized him as a healthy adult. By no means was this a quick fix; in fact, it would take many years of setbacks to achieve.
When it came to publishing the memoir, my son also had to face his vulnerability, knowing that his story would be shared openly. We were in this together and I was willing to wait as long as it took for him to feel emotionally safe and secure enough to move forward with sharing our story. The stronger he became in his commitment to recovery, the more open he was to that.
Owning Our Truth in Memoir
As memoir writers, we must present the truth to the best of our abilities with candidness, honesty, and depth. This willingness started first with Al-Anon meetings where I’d pour out my feelings through a sea of tears. I was calmer enough to listen to the wisdom of others travelling the same path. I learned the tools of recovery – one day at a time. In so doing, I admitted my powerlessness over my son’s addiction and learned to focus more on my own recovery.
Owning my shame at the time meant admitting how I’d managed to keep my son from getting better. I’d become an enabler to his alcohol addiction, though no-one else was aware of this. The only way to break through was to face alcoholic enabler symptoms. As a memoirist, I had to keep digging deeper into these memories.
In the scene below (from Just the Way He Walked) I felt the full impact that addiction had over my son, stealing him from me. I also realized that I needed as much help as he did during a moment of wringing my hands rather than taking action:
One day, I met Brian in front of the Amana stove as he staggered into the kitchen. I looked into his eyes and knew he was far away where I couldn’t reach him. He was slipping away right in front of me. I grieved the loss of that sensitive, caring little guy who stood up for his friends who were bullied; the one who held so much promise for making a positive difference in the world.
“Where are you, Brian, and how can I get you back?” I cried, terrified and helpless as I grabbed his slumped shoulders and shook him. He looked beyond me, hollowed-eyed, and didn’t answer, then turned away and went to his bedroom.
I leaned on the stove and sobbed as he lumbered up the stairs.
From this scene I realized not only the urgency to get Brian help, but also my powerlessness over his addiction. The guilt and shame weren’t helping either of us. Facing this reality would take courage, but I was only at the beginning of finding my voice.
There were many helpless, hopeless moments like this one, and I wished I had taken action sooner. But that’s part of the story I’d learn to own.
Writing through the Dark Moments
Writing about my troubled relationship with my son ultimately helped me to heal. But I couldn’t see those moments coming. In fact, I couldn’t anticipate them.
As I got more comfortable with telling the story of becoming an enabler to my son’s addiction, I slowly began experiencing compassion and forgiveness toward the young mother who fought so hard to save her son.
Writing helped me heal by:
Allowing me to embrace my character’s inner strength and develop insights into her motivations and decisions.
Enabling me to become a stronger person without the triggers of guilt and shame. I realized I’d acted in good faith, trying to do the best for my family.
From the twenty years of writing about being an enabler to my son’s addiction, I would learn that vulnerability is not a weakness. Courage and perseverance would help break through the tight shell I’d created to protect myself. Addiction is a family disease, and I finally accepted I needed as much help as Brian.
Facing our vulnerability as writers allows us, perhaps even unintentionally, to accept our flaws and imperfections. In doing so, we model our humanity in the struggle. This modeling is so important: we give permission to others who may be facing similar circumstances to feel they’re not alone in their feelings of shame.
My story has thankfully given me my son back; together we share a healing message and bond.
My story has also given parents of addicted children and enabling parents the courage, hope and resilience to overcome some of their greatest fears. My story models to parents and caregivers the importance of being aware of and accepting their role as enablers, and offers ways to deal with a child addict.
If anything, the best gift I learned was not only about telling the story but learning how to take care of myself and setting healthy and loving boundaries with my son.
Kathleen Pooler, the creator of the blog, A Memoir Writer's Journey, uses hope, faith, and writing to transform, heal and transcend life’s obstacles and disappointments. Just the Way He Walked (April 2019) is Pooler’s second memoir about overcoming alcoholic-enabling actions. Her debut memoir addresses one woman's life lessons, from family abuse towards her journey of empowerment. To contact Kathleen Pooler or learn more about her books, visit her website at http://krpooler.com.