I wrote a book!

I wrote a book!

In spite of the 50,000 word manuscript that took a lot of hours and a lot of tears to complete, it still doesn’t feel real.

So many English majors harbor dreams of published manuscripts, of leaving a mark on the world. My manuscript is a story of how the world left its mark on me.

Writing is an act of vulnerability. Creeping doubts of, “What if no one reads this?” and “What will people think of my writing?” and “What will people think of me?” are frightening enough.

“What if this doesn’t matter?” and “What if I bare my soul and share my brokenness without it actually helping anyone?” are the scariest questions of all.

Writing our stories is scary and exciting and vulnerable and courageous.

I certainly know writing my story has been all these things.

I think the need to be brave is how we know our stories are worth sharing, how we know they’ll help someone feel less alone.

And so, I wrote a book about having a mentally ill and abusive mother who didn’t want to get better. I wrote about how church culture often made things harder through empty platitudes and broad generalizations of “Just have faith,” “Trust in God’s plan,” and “If you were a good daughter and Christian, you’d help her get better.” (Even though she didn’t want to get better. Even though I was the child.)

Certainly, the content is hard and deep and uncomfortable—but so are mental illness, trauma, and abuse. This is a book for people in hard places.

I wrote for the daughter of the borderline mother. For the individual abused and manipulated and controlled by a mentally ill family member. For the Christian who seeks help and is met with entirely unhelpful platitudes about having more faith and enduring abuse. For the person who’s so desperately tried to fix the broken person that they’ve developed anxiety and disordered eating and abundant self doubt.

And I wrote this book for me, because it’s the book I needed to read when my world was on fire. I hope these words bring a sense of being seen and known and understood to people who feel confused and isolated—people whose worlds are on fire.

Being understood doesn’t fix everything, but it certainly makes us feel less alone. And I think that’s the first step towards healing.

*I’m planning to self-publish my book, On the Other Side of the Storm, on Amazon in late 2021. The book will include a collection of narrative, laments, poems, and prayers. The manuscript is with my editor, and the cover is with my designer. I’ll be look for ARC (advanced reader copy) readers at the end of the summer. Stay tuned for more details!