How to Begin: Writing When the Story Still Hurts

Before the Words Come

There’s a moment before the words come.
It’s quiet, but not peaceful.
It’s the moment when your body remembers something you haven’t yet named.
That moment is sacred. And terrifying.

For many of us, the hardest part of storytelling isn’t the writing but the leap…

It’s the decision to speak even though silence feels safer.
It’s the risk of naming something that still stings.
I’ve lived that moment more times than I can count.
Sometimes I’ve walked away from it, sometimes I’ve forced myself through it.
And sometimes, when the stars align just so, I’ve written something that changed me.

That’s why I created Recollections Within.
Not for the polished stories, but for the ones still tangled in grief, rage, confusion, and memory.
The ones that don’t yet know how to be told.

Because here’s the truth:
We don’t write because we’re ready.
We write because we’re not.
We write to make sense of what happened.
We write to reclaim what was taken.
We write to remember who we were before the world told us to forget.

The Need for Protection, Not Perfection

But writing the first word when the pain is still fresh requires more than courage.
It requires protection.
It requires a space that won’t ask you to perform your pain or tidy it up for someone else’s comfort.
That’s what Recollections Within is.

A Guide to Help You Begin

For everyone struggling to pick up the proverbial pen, I created a free journaling guide to help you begin.
It’s a simple guide to help you start writing when the story is still raw.
You can download it here.

It’s yours. No strings. No pressure. Just a guiding hand to help you begin and a lovely newsletter now and then.

Inside, you’ll find prompts that don’t demand answers.
They offer openings.
They explore:

A moment you remember
What you were told (or expected) to forget
The roles you’ve outgrown
What you want but haven’t said out loud
What you’re taking with you

These aren’t meant to fix you.
They’re meant to meet you exactly where you are.

When Silence Costs Too Much

Because I know what it’s like to stare at a blank page and feel like the story is too big, too messy, too almost unbelievable, or too painful to put into words.
I know what it’s like to wonder if speaking my truth will make things worse.
I know what it’s like to feel like your story might hurt someone else… or that no one will believe you anyway.

But I also know this:
Silence costs more than it protects.
It cost me years of my life.
It almost cost my daughter hers.
And I will not be silent anymore.
I don’t want you to be, either.

Your Story Is an Act of Resistance

Your story is not a luxury.
It isn’t something to save for when life slows down.
It’s not something you owe anyone, but it is something you deserve to tell.
Especially now.

We are living in a time when women’s voices are being questioned, dismissed, and legislated out of existence.
When trans women and gender-diverse people are being targeted with cruelty and erasure.
When the cost of silence is not just personal—it’s political.

Telling your story is not just an act of healing.
It’s an act of resistance.
It’s a way of saying: I am here. I matter. I will not be erased.

Finding Your People

And you don’t have to do it alone.

Inside The Common Thread, our private community forum, you’ll find others who are also beginning.
Some are whispering their truths for the first time.
Some are writing through grief, rage, or reclamation.
Some are just reading, breathing, and remembering that they’re not alone.

You are welcome in this community. I built it for every single one of us who needs the safety and camaraderie of other women without the vile judgement that drives social media today.
Whether you’re ready to share or just need to be near others who understand. Members are invited to submit stories to The Quilt—in written, audio, video or visual artforms.
Because your story is a unique and necessary patch and this community is the quilt.
Together, we are stitching something that cannot be undone.