Rachel Thompson

Award Winning Author of Broken Pieces and Broken Places. Owner of BadRedhead Media, Sex Abuse Survivor, Mom, Nutella Advocate, Tired. Please visit my website: http://rachelintheoc.com/ Facebook Twitter Pinterest Instagram Google+

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So pleased to share my survivor friend, The Sunrise Warrior’s, story. Like many survivors, he struggled with recovery and it’s an ongoing process. I present his post in full, in his voice, speaking for so many of us. Please read, share, and comment.

*Trigger warning for childhood sexual abuse, suicidality, language, and guns.

I struggled to write this. 

Maybe it is because my friend Rachel, who I admire, invited me to write this as a guest piece for her blog readers.

It could be because my friend, like myself, is a survivor of child molestation. The topic is sacred ground for me. It’s one thing to write about the topic on my blog, but it is another to write about it on someone else’s.

If I’m totally honest, I’m simply nervous. Nervous because there is a strong probability that you, the reader, are a survivor. The thought of a wide range of survivors reading my work is both exciting and scary as hell. I don’t want to let you down. I want to deliver a message of strength and hope.

If you or a loved one is a survivor of child molestation like me, this post is for you.

Let’s broaden that. If you or a loved one is a child abuse survivor, this post is for you.

Hell, let’s go even further. If you or a loved one identify as a survivor of any kind this post is for you.

Because if you are a survivor then you are one of life’s true fucking underdogs. You are a comeback story. And that makes you my people. This is a story about comebacks!

Badass Motherfuckers

Let’s start here. I want to clear this shit up right now. Survivors are complete badasses. Unfortunately, many of us don’t view ourselves that way. Often we see ourselves as weak and can remain ashamed decades later. I know because that was me. Maybe it is you, too.

When I am the king of the world, survivors everywhere will be comfortable in their own skin and fully appreciate their badassery. We will look in the mirror and see a fucking warrior looking back. 

We will see our muscles, callus, scars, and armor. We are not broken. We are battle-tested. We will appreciate our toughness and grit. It’s not always pretty, but we are world-class fighters.

The Sunrise Warrior, In The Beginning

When I was in fifth grade, I was at a low point. My mind was going crazy and I truly believed that the world would be a better place without me. My inner voice was full of self-hate and I had the amplifier in position. It continually reminded me that I was damaged goods. I needed it to end.

I was on an island all by myself with no one to talk to about my struggle. I was living a double life. One as a well-adjusted, mature ten-year-old. And the other as an isolated and ashamed boy. I didn’t want people to sit in judgment of me. I was afraid to be labeled as gay or bullied as a faggot. Kids can be cruel.

Hope On Hold

I was molested by a male family member since I was in first grade. The abuse had been going on so long that my body was no longer my own. It was his. The acts that we engaged in were not intimate anymore. They were my chores. They were a prize he claimed when he was victorious in our daily cat and mouse game. 

I ran. He chased. I hid. He searched. I detoured. He rerouted. He never let up. He was fucking relentless and I was exhausted. When he caught me, it was simply easier to give him what he wanted. The acts weren’t special anymore. Take what you want so I can move on with my day. 

If I could have exposed him without exposing me, I wonder if I would have. Deep down inside, I blamed myself more than I blamed him. It’s ridiculous for me to think now, but back then, I thought I was the sick fuck. Let that shit sink in. Maybe you can relate.

I thought about telling my mom. She was a good woman but she was barely holding her life together. She was a widow raising two young boys on her own while battling depression. She grinded to provide for her two little boys and never took time to work on herself. That was her greatest failure.

My monster was a well-respected man in the community. He wasn’t a stranger. He was invited in. Everyone seemed to love him. He always had a joke to break the ice and a kind smile on his face. He was a monster of the worst kind. People felt comfortable with him so they easily let their guard down when he was around.

The guilt and shame of my actions were crushing me. I hated myself and my life was on a fucking hamster wheel. I was ready to throw in the towel and I knew how I was going to do it.

Losing Hope: Dad’s Favorite Gun

My father died when I was six. My mother, who wasn’t a fan of guns, wrapped his Colt 38 Special in a towel and hid it in the bottom of her bedroom dresser drawer. She gave the majority of his firearm collection to a family member, but she couldn’t part with dad’s favorite. 

My mother had no idea I knew that she kept his gun. I also knew that she kept half a box of bullets in her desk drawer. It’s amazing what a curious kid can discover.

I sat in my bedroom with the door locked. My palms were sweaty and tears flowed as I weighed the pros and cons of ending it all. I held the gun in my hand and wondered if I had the courage to point it at myself and pull the trigger. 

Each time I contemplated suicide, the only thing that stopped me was the thought of leaving my mother and my little brother behind with no one to protect them. Deep down inside, I was always a protector.

I am so fucking happy I didn’t pull that trigger. What a waste of life that could have been. When I think of how close I came to ending it, I get shivers down my spine. The thought of a world without my three beautiful children is bringing tears to my eyes as I type this. Our lives impact so many others.

Searching For Hope

I needed to find hope.

Where do you locate hope when your circle is small and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame for your actions? The answer is simple. Anywhere you can. 

I was a kid. I had no support group for my abuse. I didn’t have articles or books on the topic.  I couldn’t talk with my mother. I had no therapist or mentor. I was all alone.

I was desperate. Fortunately, desperate people are capable of great things when they are ready for change. When you are ready, hope appears. You simply need to be open to it.

I started to see hope everywhere I looked. Maybe I found it because I was hyper-aware of my environment. Maybe it came from my active imagination or possibly because I looked outside of the box. I’m not sure. It was probably a combination of all three. 

I filtered every piece of information and stimulus that I encountered. I became a hope miner. I still am.

When you constantly mine for hope and inspiration, glimmers begin to appear. Some deliver just enough hope to help you get through the day while other times you can find an abundance of hope that can last years. It becomes part of your hope treasure chest. Hope is at your disposal when needed. 

Let me share one of my earliest mining wins. This one continues to pay big dividends for me today. 

My Favorite Movie of Hope

I was a little kid when the movie Rocky was released in 1976. My mother wasn’t big on fighting so she didn’t take me to see the film. A few years later, when I was in fifth grade, I finally watched the movie for the first time at a friend’s house. It mesmerized me. It was perfect therapy for a young boy battling internally with his self-worth. 

Rocky was a down on his luck fighter from Philadelphia who got the shot at the heavyweight championship and he made the best of it. More importantly, he had success against an even bigger opponent…himself.

Pause

Right about here you might be questioning whether you should read further. I can sense the doubts. Can this Sunrise Warrior guy expect me to believe that Rocky unlocked the shackles caused by years of child molestation?!

Hang in there. I’m going somewhere with this. I promise to treat childhood trauma and abuse with the respect it truly deserves. 

Un-Pause

I fell in love with the movie as a child. I became obsessed with it. I’m certainly not the first guy to get chills during Rocky’s training montage. It’s the classic underdog story, David versus Goliath. But the movie has come to mean so much more to me.

I am a fifty-one-year-old man who suffered seven years of molestation as a child. I suffered in silence by myself for many years. Once I was mature enough to realize my relationship with my abuser wasn’t a special friendship, I became incredibly ashamed. I internalized my trauma which triggered an internal battle with an enemy more threatening than my abuser…me. 

Victims of child molestation often struggle with hope and self-confidence. We perceive ourselves as damaged goods. Many struggles with drugs, alcohol, sexuality, and obesity. I am no exception.  

We look in the mirror and often hate the beautiful person looking back at us. Some of us attempt or commit suicide while others take a slower path to our premature demise through poor lifestyle choices. 

As victims, we may find ourselves on skid row.

Skid Row

Rocky is a journeyman fighter and in one of the early scenes in the film, Rocky learns that his locker at the boxing gym has been reassigned to another fighter. His boxing gear was placed on skid row. This is a row of hooks on a wall designed to hang canvas bags with a boxer’s gear. Having your gear placed on skid row is the final stop for a washed-up fighter. 

Holy shit, I’ve been on skid row a number of times in my life. That’s where I found myself as a boy in fifth grade. I also found myself there as a teenager with my drug abuse. And later down the road, it’s where I found myself after decades of shitty routines and poor lifestyle choices. So I’m no stranger to skid row. 

In my most recent visit to skid row, I weighed in at 374 pounds. I was taking daily, prescribed medications for heart palpitations, high blood sugar, blood pressure, and cholesterol. I might have held off on pulling the trigger years earlier but make no mistake, my horrible daily routine and poor lifestyle choices were killing me.

I was on that familiar hamster wheel again, watching it happen as if I was a spectator in my own movie.

Some people throw in the towel when they are on skid row. It’s easy to give up when you struggle to believe in yourself. And when you quit on yourself, the world is never very far behind.

Clarity And Purpose

Skid row can be a powerful place to find yourself. When life smacks you hard enough, you can realize that change is needed. When people hit rock bottom, they become desperate. And desperate people have been known to take action.

A small percentage of people are the world’s high achievers. And a similar portion of people are immersed in their personal version of skid row. But the overwhelming majority of people are somewhere in between the two. Their lives don’t suck enough to take meaningful action. 

Obviously, the best place to be is in the high achiever category. But for me, the second-best place to be was on skid row. I was ready to take action. Which group are you in?

If you answered skid row, congratulations! Your comeback story is still being written. 

I’ve got more good news…you are holding the fucking pen. 

Who Are You?

In addition to being a journeyman fighter, Rocky serves as “muscle” for a local loan shark. He certainly looks the part of a street thug but clearly, this is not Rocky at his core. Instead of breaking thumbs, Rocky prefers to deliver stern warnings and lectures. 

Rocky is at a crossroads in his life with a choice to make. Does he follow this path of breaking thumbs for a living, or should he fulfill his potential and be the man he is destined to be? 

Of course, Rocky decides to pursue his dreams and go all-in on himself. The biggest takeaway for me is the realization that opportunity often lies at a crossroads. 

Many days I take out my journal and I ask one question. Who are you? My answers have evolved over the years. Today, I am laser-focused on my answer. At each crossroad in my life, my answers to that simple question gave me the strength to make necessary changes. There is strength in the answer.

Ask yourself the question and let the answer be your guide.

A Shot At The Champ

Rocky gets his shot at the heavyweight champion, Apollo Creed.  We have a similar opportunity. We have the choice to be present in our lives or to fall victim to the negative voice in our heads. As I look at my life, every day is my shot at the champ. At times, the champ gets the best of me. Other times, I win the round. Either way, I show up for the fight. 

My biggest opponent is always me. Sure my abuser is responsible for setting the wheels in motion for my self-destructive tendencies, but ultimately, only I have the power to break my damaging cycle. Fight or become your worst enemy. Two choices. Which do you choose?

Truth be told, many survivors never resolve our inner conflict. It damages our self-being and infects other areas such as family, friendships, and business. Collateral damage is common. The world is getting the forty-percent version of many of us. Wasted talent. 

Today We Get A Shot At The Champ Again

The good news today is that we get a shot at The Champ again. Today, we can battle that self-destructive, self-loathing monster in our heads. It all starts with figuring out who we are or who we want to become. Once we have that clear vision it’s time to take action.

Old Habits Die Hard

Even after Rocky gets his shot at The Champ, he doesn’t believe he can go the distance. He begins to sleepwalk through his opportunity as he has become accustomed to doing. Bad habits are tough to break. Sometimes the greatest opportunity is within our grasp but we sleepwalk right through it. At times we don’t even realize we missed it.

I did the same. There were many times when I promised myself that I would make changes only to fall back into my shitty old routines. Sometimes when faced with doing the real work, old routines can creep back in. It’s time to break that cycle. The secret to success here is to fall into n love with the grind.

 A Flame Of Hope Within

Somewhere deep down there is a flame that burns in Rocky and it burns in many of us too. For Rocky, he needed his mentor and manager Mickey to help him discover his “why.” 

Sometimes survivors need others to help show us the way, to help give us hope. Therapy, counseling, and coaching are all signs of incredible strength, not weakness. 

I’ve had Mickeys in my life. My wife, my trauma therapist, my pastor, countless mentors, and friends I choose to surround myself with in my life. I’ve learned a rising tide raises all ships. 

Who is on your team? Maybe it’s time for a strategic addition.

Going All-In On Ourselves

Going all-in on ourselves completely turns the table on our monsters. We scream, “fuck you!” to the people who tried to extinguish our light. We turn that light up and let that shit shine bright for all to see!

That’s what Rocky’s training montage is for me. It symbolizes going all-in and taking back control of my life at different crossroads. It’s me betting on myself, being completely honest with myself, and peeling back my layers. I’m dialed in and taking action.

Rocky’s run up the Philadelphia Art Museum’s Steps symbolizes the excitement and energy I feel every day I bet on myself. The musical score, the jog, the run, the sprint, the grunting, the jumping at the top of the steps while pumping my fists in the air, that’s me going all the fuck in! At that point, I’d already won!

Every time I hear Gonna Fly Now by Bill Conti I get chills. Most viewers get excited because this is the point where Rocky turns the corner in his comeback story. I get chills because it reminds me of my own badassery. It reminds me of the many corners I turned in my comeback story. It’s my cue for my hope, power, and strength. 

Going the Distance

Life isn’t defined by wins and losses. In the scene before the championship match, Rocky tells his girlfriend Adrian that he isn’t focused on winning his fight against Apollo. Instead, his goal lies in going the distance and standing when the bell rings at the end. 

“Cause all I wanna do is go the distance with Creed, and if I can go that distance, you see, and that bell rings and I’m still standing, I’m gonna know for the first time in my life, see, that I wasn’t just another bum from the neighborhood.” ~ Rocky

I fucking love this mindset. Life is happening to us every day. Let’s show the fuck up! Give it our best! Let’s go the distance! Forget the results, when we fall in love with the process we won’t need a finish line or a championship belt to define us. We are relentless. We are fucking survivors, remember! We got this shit!!

For me it’s simple. My focus is on getting one percent better every day. No matter how hard life punches. I’m fucking moving forward. Again, it might not be pretty but I’m going the distance. Life will not defeat me. I’m not another bum from the neighborhood.

Setting Hope Cues

I notice I’ve set trauma recovery cues over my life. Sunrise is an obvious one for me. It’s like hitting a reset button. Meditation is another. I love to disconnect my hyperactive brain from activity for a short period. I also use music to set daily cues. 

Going The Distance by Bill Conti is likely the song I listen to most frequently. It immediately puts me into a warrior mindset of power and action. Anytime I feel defeated by life, I simply need to dial the song up on my playlist. Close my eyes. Breath deep and listen. 

Two minutes and forty-one seconds is all I need to flip my switch into one of power, grit, and action. Hell, eleven seconds into the song after the four bells, I’m fucking pumped and ready to take on the world and anyone who gets in my way.

Fight Day

Let’s face it. This is why I really love this movie so much. Fight day is here and Apollo thinks it’s a show. The two fighters go out in the first round and Rocky deals The Champ a crushing blow from out of nowhere that sends The Champ to the canvas. The Champ has grossly underestimated his opponent.

Ours is a fight where stakes are much higher than wins and losses. This is our life and we need to punch back. It’s time for us to deal a crushing blow to our opponent to show them this isn’t a show. This is personal and we’ve come to fight. 

14th Round – Almost There 

Thirteen rounds pass with Rocky and Apollo in a war. Rocky has outperformed anything viewers could have imagined by standing toe to toe with The Champ. Rocky has earned the respect of everyone in the building including Apollo and Mickey, his mentor and trainer.

The fourteenth of fifteen rounds begins, and Apollo lands a series of combination punches and Rocky is on the ropes. Apollo is going for the knockout. 

Apollo lands a big punch and Rocky goes to one knee but bounces right back up again. Then the Champ delivers a knockout blow and Rocky falls to the canvas. 

The Champ retreats to his corner with his hands held high in the air in anticipation of the knockout win. The referee starts to count…one…two…

Rocky is trying to use the boxing ropes as leverage to get up. Mickey yells at Rocky…”Stay down, stay down,” knowing Rocky has proved he was a worthy opponent.

Rocky refuses to stay down. He slowly uses the ring ropes to pull himself up as the referee continues to count…seven…eight…nine…but Rocky stands up before the 10 count and signals with his gloves that he is okay…

…Meanwhile, Rocky’s girlfriend Adrian, who didn’t want to watch the fight, was waiting in the locker room. She can’t contain her curiosity when she hears the pandemonium in the stands as Rocky was laying on the canvas. She enters the arena area and sees Rocky get up and signal he is okay.

Adrian closes her eyes for a second or two in fear but then opens her eyes as a look of strength and confidence appears on her face. She knows who Rocky is and she knows he is committed to going the distance. He’s not going to stop until the bell rings. Rocky is a warrior, a survivor if you will, and he’s not going to stop battling.

…Apollo, who thought he knocked out his opponent, turns around in the ring and sees Rocky signaling that he is okay. Apollo can’t believe his opponent is still standing. He realizes at that moment that his opponent is a survivor. Rocky will never give up. Warriors fight until the final bell rings.

The fighters go back to the middle of the ring and the round ends with Rocky delivering bone-crushing blows to Apollo’s ribs. The bell rings and the round comes to an end. The war is not over.

This is how I chose to live my life. Fuck you to those who don’t believe in me. Fuck you to that voice in my head that tells me I’m a quitter and damaged goods. Fuck you to my victim mentality. Fuck you to that monster who tried to steal my light. 

I’m going the fucking distance and I’m not going down. In the end, I will be standing with my head held high. My struggle is my strength! 

15th and Final Round Of Hope 

The round opens with both fighters slowly moving around the ring. The announcer chimes in…”They look like they’ve been in a war, these two.” 

Apollo lands a big first punch but it ignites Rocky who answers with a series of good punches. 

By the end of the round, the only thing holding Apollo up is the ropes as Rocky lands big punch after big punch. Apollo is done, but the final bell rings before Rocky can land a final knockout blow.  

Rocky has gone the distance. The familiar musical score plays as all the fight dignitaries rush into the ring to care for the two fighters. Apollo awaits the judges’ scorecard results to determine which fighter is victorious. 

Rocky is clearly uninterested in the scorers’ decision. He is only interested in reuniting with Adrian. The announcer is trying to interview Rocky but again he keeps calling out for Adrian. 

The decision is in. Apollo wins the fight in a split decision with two of the judges giving the fight to Apollo, and one scoring the fight for Rocky. Apollo celebrates his big win but Rocky doesn’t seem to care. He simply calls for his soulmate Adrian.

As Adrian makes her way into the ring she and Rocky exchange a big hug and embrace with the two of them proclaiming…I love you! They both knew he did what he came to do. He went the fucking distance with The Champ. 

Rocky won his battle with himself. It didn’t matter what the rest of the world thought about the fight. Rocky kept his promise. He’s not a bum from the neighborhood.

I get chills every time I watch the fifteenth round. I’ve learned so much from it. 

Lessons Learned

I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter what the rest of the world thinks. It matters what I think about my effort.

I’ve learned there’s me and a small group of people in my dome. They are my people. They matter. Everyone else is a roll player. And role players either support me by bringing value, joy and happiness to my life, or they are expendable.

I’ve learned that my life isn’t defined by winning and losing. My life is influenced by my fight and showing up every day. I’m going to win some and I’m going to lose others. But I’m always showing up ready to fight. I live for the daily grind. I’ve created disciplines and I fell in love with my healthy and productive routines. 

I’ve learned that quitting on myself is not an option. It’s off the menu because I say it is. The world gets my one hundred percent. The forty percent version of myself doesn’t live here anymore. He’s gone. Good riddance. 

You can find hope and inspiration in many stories. Sometimes you simply need to dissect and connect the dots. I seek hope and it always seems to find me. When I’m down on myself, it is always temporary anymore. I don’t stay in that place very long. 

There are all kinds of positive cues I have at my disposal. All I need to do is witness a sunrise or play Going The Distance or Gonna Fly Now on my phone. It’s like hitting a reset button on my warrior mindset. I’m never going back to a place of self-defeat. I’m too strong for that now. I’m all in and I’m going the distance.

You can too. Don’t ever give up hope!

***

Learn more about The Sunrise Warrior on his site. He’s one of the nicest guys you’ll ever talk with, and that’s a promise.

My seventh book, the third in the BROKEN series is now available for order  – ebook and print. My labor of love.

I hope you’ll order and join my journey:

https://geni.us/BrokenPeople

  The post Going The Distance In Life. One Survivor’s Story Of Hope! by guest @1SunriseWarrior appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Toxic Masculinity In Action

I loved my father. A World War II survivor of horrifying combat, my dad embodied all that was traditionally masculine in the 1960s. He was tough and strong. However, in looking back, it was his narcissism and toxic masculinity that dominated my earliest memories. A product of the times?  Perhaps. The scars of the war? Certainly. Identification with an abusive father? Sadly true.

But, regardless of the reasons, my father tried to teach me the zero-sum values of toxic masculinity: “Men are stronger and tougher; women are weak.” “Don’t be a pussy, never let them see you cry. Be a man!” 

At the age of 90, my father became a shadow of his former self. The sun had set on his testosterone-driven script.  What I witnessed instead was a softening and humanizing of the man I’d known for the last 60 years. We would enter grocery stores and he would crouch down with a look of joy and wonder whenever he saw a small child.

When Macho Cries

One day, my father, the hunter of my boyhood – disappointed that his son had preferred the warmth of the car to the chill of the duck blind – told me that he never wanted to kill anything again. This was not the father I remembered from my youth. What I saw instead was the donning of gentle sweetness and sharing of regrets in the final chapter of a long life. As I cared for him in the final months of his life, he shared his tears over the road he had taken.

The picture of waning masculinity and its toxic forms was a subtext of a recent movie called “Cry Macho” with the most macho of actors, Clint Eastwood, Dirty Harry himself. Eastwood’s character, 90-year-old “Mike,” speaks to his 13-year-old sidekick, who is distilling a toxic brew of what it means to be a man.

“This macho thing is overrated,” says Mike. “You think you have all the answers, but then you get older and realize you don’t have any. By the time you figure it out, it’s too late.”

The Testosterone Connection

It made me think of my father. Like Mike, declining testosterone seemed to usher in a  surprising sweetness, a gentling of what had always been a steely machismo. How sad that, for some men, like my dad and the Mikes of the world (possibly Eastwood himself), a lower level of testosterone is what finally helps de-toxify masculinity. 

But we should not wait for biology to teach an old dog new tricks. Fathers should teach their sons and daughters, through their words and deeds, that masculinity is not machismo, that being a real man embodies strength and adaptive toughness that fosters perseverance and radiates compassion, kindness, commitment, honesty, and empathy.

What are your thoughts or experiences with toxic masculinity? Please share below.

***

My seventh book, the third in the BROKEN series is now available for order  – ebook and print. My labor of love.

I hope you’ll order and join my journey:

https://geni.us/BrokenPeople

Sign up for my newsletter – I never spam you.

Dr. Kleiger bio:

After receiving his doctorate at the University of Denver, his path led to an internship at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, MD, followed by more than a decade of service as an officer in the Navy. Writing about people and their struggles has been an integral part of what he does.

He has authored four professional books – Disordered Thinking and The Rorschach, 1999, followed by its cousins Assessing Psychosis, 2015 (coauthored with Ali Khadivi), Rorschach Assessment of Psychotic Phenomena, 2017, and Psychological Assessment of Disordered Thinking & Perception, In Press (co-edited with Irving Weiner).

Unable to resist the play of imagination, he completed his debut novel, The 11th Inkblot, published in 2020.

  The post Masculinity Isn’t Machismo: Why Macho Needs To Cry by Guest @JHermanKleiger, Ph.D. appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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One of the biggest struggles writers face when they choose to write their stories, whether in memoir, short-form, or long-form, is where to start. And by where, I don’t mean geographically, though that can certainly be a consideration.

I mean, where and when. Okay, and how.

I dealt with this myself while contemplating writing my own stories of surviving childhood sexual abuse and how this affected me as a teen into an adult, and mother. What period of time will I cover? What period of my life is most pertinent to sharing? What details are important to leave in? Leave out?

To be honest, for many, many years, my journal entries about this entire topic didn’t go any further than that: journal entries. Moleskins filled with swirling thoughts peppered my anxious mind as to how to go about sharing my stories, along with normal imposter syndrome writer fears.

There were also the practical issues: where and how to start? I have a journalism degree and background with plenty of article writing and blogging experience. Book writing, memoir writing, is completely different. So I took more classes, read the usual writing books by Stephen King, Natalie Goldberg, Francine Prose, Julia Cameron (fantastic), et al.

It wasn’t until I dove in and played with various structural ‘rules’ that I found my own writing style. Writing rules are rules for good reason — writing is a craft, just like any other romantic art. I basically had to get over myself and dive in.

Here are the five rules I developed for my own style.

Creative Nonfiction

Nonfiction writing can still be creative writing. They don’t call it Creative Nonfiction for no reason. Understanding and learning about this term and process opened up my brain and helped me free flow into what has now become my own style of essays and poetry in memoir form (in my Broken series).

What does the term actually mean?

Creative Nonfiction defines the genre simply, succinctly, and accurately as “true stories, well told.”

In some ways, creative nonfiction is like jazz — it’s a rich mix of flavors, ideas, and techniques, some newly invented and others as old as writing itself. Creative nonfiction can be an essay, a journal article, a research paper, a memoir, a tweet; it can be personal or not, or it can be all of these. (Source: CreativeNonfiction.com)

I started working on my first memoir comprised of essays and poetry in 2011, publishing my first Broken book in 2012. The fact that I could even do that, create this type of memoir, filled me with glee, even though the subject matter wasn’t exactly dinner table conversation (thank goodness, more people talk about it now).

Creative example: the book title is Broken Pieces, where I do not present the Pieces in chronological order purposely, so as to give the reader the same sense of puzzlement I felt as a young girl and woman living with the after-effects of sexual abuse.

Creatively, this works because there’s a thematic structure and character arc.

Bottom line: don’t feel you must follow strict guidelines when writing your memoir. That said, memoir must be based on your real life. Do you have to make up scenes? Then it’s not memoir.

Creative Nonfiction does not mean you make it up as you go along. That would be fiction.

Memoir Is Not Autobiography

Why are you writing your memoir? What is the main goal(s) you want people to know or understand about you?

An autobiography covers your entire life, typically, from birth to wherever you are now in your life. That’s a lot to fit into one book. You want your memoir to have a specific focus or message, and make that clear upfront, so as to not lose the reader.

You also want to focus on a specific period of time that relates to that focus or message:

Did you have postpartum depression?

Climb a mountain?

Learn how to communicate with a gorilla?

Whatever it is, focus on that and what that means in your life.

In choosing that period of time or focus, think about what that character arc is for you. Where you started, what you learned, where you ended.

Use All Five Senses In Your Writing Memoir

Writing memoir isn’t all that different from fiction in this area. When describing a scene, we still want to know how you feel without you telling us how you feel, or if it’s obvious (“Approaching the haunted house, I felt scared.” Well, obviously.)

When I teach writing workshops and a writer has written, “I felt scared,” I ask the class to stop and close their eyes. Do the same with me now.

What does it feel like in your body to feel scared? Writers will answer their heart beats fast, their stomach drops, their hands are sweaty, sweat forms on their brow, hands clench, skin chills, etc.

That’s what needs to go into the writing! “Show, don’t tell,” is a rule for a reason, right?

That said, I find that in dialogue, it’s okay to express an emotion. “Are you okay?” she asked in a worried tone, belying her calm demeanor.

WIIFM = What’s In It For Me (The Reader)

Readers are motivated by personal interest. WIIFM = What’s in it for me? Why would any reader be interested in reading your book? What are you writing about that people can relate to? That’s unique and interesting? Who is your ideal reader?

I didn’t know. Most new writers probably have no idea. And that’s okay. When you’re first writing your story, you’re not writing for that unknown avatar. You’re writing for yourself. That shitty first draft needs to be word vomit. Get it all out. Figure out later the structure and audience. Hire a great editor.

This stumped me at first also, and in this last decade of working with writers and survivors of sexual abuse, many worry about who will read their stories and how they’ll be perceived.

What got me past this hump is giving myself permission to write like the adult I am, and understanding that the people we’re most worried about will rarely read our work anyway (especially family). Hard truth.

However, you do need to consider who your buying audience will be at some point if you are interested in selling books. If you’re not, and you’re writing simply to write, cool.

Most writers want to sell books. Not every reader is your ideal reader. Shocking concept, right? For ideas on building your author platform while you write, take a look at this article: How To Build Your Author Platform When You Have No Clue What That Means

Avoid Chronology in Memoir

Western readers are used to being force-fed chronology-type stories. We love a clear beginning, middle, and end. We love a hero’s journey. We’re so used to the three-act structure, we protest when it’s anything but.

I love anything but.

Always the rebel, my books don’t necessarily start with a specific period of time, because, as I mention earlier in the article, that’s not how I (or any trauma survivor) experiences triggers, PTSD, or healing. With a character arc and thematic structure, this works. It may not with your books.

From a marketing standpoint, you do want to draw the reader in quickly, especially with the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon, so that’s definitely worth considering. One big mistake new memoir writers make is thinking they need to write a diary of cookie-cutter, day-by-day reporting, which can be frankly, boring.

Hollywood loves to start movies off with a BANG! You don’t have to do that, though having the good stuff at the beginning is a definite plus.

Final Thoughts

You become a writer by writing. It took me until my mid-40s to start my writing career (after almost 20+ in Big Pharma; recovered now, thanks). I now spend my days helping other authors learn how to market their own books, strategize their marketing, promotion, and branding, and learn how to build relationships on social media.

And, of course, writing. I’m working on books eight and nine right now.

I read a lot of memoirs. I suggest you do the same. What style do you find most enjoyable? Try writing that way simply as an exercise. Try it on like a pair of pants. It might not fit, but then you’ll know.

“Good writers borrow; great writers steal.” ~ T. S. Eliot

Don’t take that literally! I do have some memoir writing exercises to try, though, so let’s talk about that next.

There are a lot of writing rules. For writing memoir specifically. Learn them. And then adapt them for what works for you, or break them completely! Writing is an art form. That’s what makes it so great.

***

It’s live, y’all. My seventh book, the third in the BROKEN series is now available for preorder (ebook). Print also. My labor of love.

I hope you’ll order and join my journey:

https://geni.us/BrokenPeople

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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This article first appeared on Medium, August 2021.

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What is social proof? It’s a marketing concept that we are all inadvertently, unknowingly contributing to every time we click on, retweet, like, reply or comment, and share any kind of social media, article, or blog post on the net. Technically, social proof, as defined by Sprout Social is:

The concept that people will follow the actions of the masses. The idea is that since so many other people behave in a certain way, it must be the correct behavior.

Social Proof and Me

As an author, social media is a hugely important part of my author platform, as it is for any writer or blogger. This is how we connect with readers now, even before the pandemic. Virtual, online events are now the norm. Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube Live video discussions are the new book signings. Twitter chats are weekly on any number of topics; I have two of my own, in fact, #SexAbuseChat every Tuesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est and #BookMarketingChat every Wednesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est.

All important for visibility, branding, and most importantly, connection.

However…there’s a limit. I reached my limit over the course of this past year. It didn’t come all at once. It came, little by little, reaching a peak this past month or so.

Why? How? Me, the so-called social media expert?

Access. Like many people, I have issues with the incredible level of access Facebook gives people once we friend them without our consent. PMs (private messages) are automatic, now with the ability for people to call, voice, and video message us, with no option to shut these options to OFF unless we unfriend the person (we can, however, mute a specific conversation). Technically, we do give them consent in the legal mumbo jumbo we all agreed to when we joined back in the 2010s.

I am not okay with this. And Facebook doesn’t care. Nobody cares. You’re probably thinking, “Geez, Karen. Shut up, already. Stop your whining, white lady.” I get it. I do. First-world problems.

I counter with: I hear you. It’s also part of my business. A huge part. Here’s why:

As someone who manages over 70+ various social media accounts as part of my BadRedhead Media business, plus my own accounts as well, Facebook requires I have a personal account in order to manage all those other Pages. I do understand why, particularly with all the ridiculousness of the past four years with the abundance of fake accounts, fake news, and such.

As a survivor of sexual abuse and stalking, this is ultra-concerning to me. So, what happened this past month or so? Suffice it to say, one person repeatedly tried calling me. I never pick up Facebook calls, especially if I don’t know you. Another left me a few voice messages saying they were offended by something.

Yet another left me another message in ALL SHOUTY CAPS that she didn’t find what I posted inspirational enough and she expected better from someone who is “supposedly on the side of authors.”

Oh, and there is the one lady who started replying on ALL my posts to the kind people who did comment that she didn’t think I replied often enough or to her satisfaction.

Well. I’ve been criticized before. You should read some of my 1-star reviews. There’s plenty!

But, for whatever reason, this struck a chord. I got up in my feels. I cried. I talked with one of them and we worked it out because we like and respect each other’s work in the mental health space. The others I blocked. It’s darn frustrating to donate hours of my time each week to helping writers solely because I want to, only to be told it’s not enough. Like, seriously? Fuck off.

My blood raged. My heart sank. Understandable, right?

But what really made me angry is that I put myself in that position by being available. I accepted that ‘it is what it is.’ This is what the social media platforms have given us, so that’s what I have to work within.

I’m too available. It’s too easy to leave me shitty messages. This is why people hire people like me – to handle this crap for them! So they don’t have to read these ridiculous criticisms from judgy people who apparently have nothing better to do or are having a bad day.

And I get bad days. It’s a damn pandemic. We’re all struggling. Where’s the damn compassion for one another?

I have a dislike/hate relationship with Facebook anyway, since about ten or so years ago when I discovered that a past love had died by suicide by going to his personal profile and seeing, “RIP dude,” messages there. We had spoken early that day. It still haunts me.

So…what to do? I’m claiming my time. I’m not posting to my personal Facebook profile right now. I’m ignoring it. I am checking my Pages and of course, my client Pages. When I feel like I can face it again, I will cull my ‘friends’ down from *checks real quick* 4385 people to maybe, I don’t know, the few hundred in my groups, many of whom I do know and treasure.

Social Proof and You

If you’re a writer, social proof matters. This is the world we live in. Publishing is not only writing.

You need to be ‘findable,’ not only on Google, but also on each individual social platform, so your readers can learn more about you and hopefully, buy your books. If you go the traditional route, publishers and agents want to know how many followers you have (easily upped by buying fake followers or likes from Fiverr or wherever). I suggest not doing that, because:

1) fake followers don’t buy books 

2) it’s usually pretty obvious when you have fake followers because they’re all foreign names, have questionable bios, and no tweets

3) do you really want to start your publishing career with a lie? 

They also want to know what you post, how often, and what your branding is. If you’re an indie author, honestly, the same applies. Social proof is about connection, building relationships, and authenticity. I’ve believed that since I started my business and writing career way back in 2011, and I stand by it now. Start slow, grow slow. It’s not a race.

I’m the furthest thing you’ll even find from a conspiracy theorist – I don’t believe in chemtrails, pizza parlor cabals, or that the earth is flat. However, I am a realist. Watch The Social Dilemma sometime. These huge tech companies share our data without our knowledge or consent (Cambridge Analytics, anyone?). Younger generations are so used to this, they don’t really care – ask them.

(My kids think having a chip implanted in their hands with all their data is a fabulous idea. “So much easier than having to talk and repeat everything over and over. Just scan me and be done with it,” says my daughter Anya (21). “Agree,” grunts my son, Lukas (15). Buy stuff, go to the doctor, whatever. Scan and go. Talk with any GenZ kid, you’ll likely get a similar answer. They’ve been tracked since birth everywhere. They don’t know life without a computer, tablet, or phone in their hands.)

Know that whatever we do, it’s all part of each platforms’ AI, and they share data, which is why that darling pair of shoes you just saw on Amazon is now showing up on Google, Facebook, Twitter, and every website you visit going forward. It’s all about the money, and they all get a piece of that affiliate link.

Every bit of every click is recorded, even when you’re watching videos on YouTube, or a subscription service like Netflix, or perusing goods on Amazon. It’s all connected. I’m not shocked or surprised by any of this, are you?

It’s Not Personal

What people say to us and about us is ultimately incredibly revealing about them. We know this, at an intellectual, psychological, and emotional level. Still, when people say mean things, it hurts. We’re human.

Does it matter in the overall scope of our lives? Who can say. It matters at that moment. It can matter when it comes to overall visibility when you’re marketing your book(s) or trying to get that book contract or interview. Only you can say if it matters to you.

Already a longtime fan of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS by Don Miguel Ruiz, I took a moment to reorient myself with this one agreement: Don’t take anything personally. I also stumbled across an excellent short and entertaining TEDTalk by Frederick Imbo. His main message to stop taking things personally is two-fold;

It’s not about me. Look at the other person’s intention and

It IS about me. Give yourself some empathy. Speak up. Ask questions. Pay attention to how you feel and be vulnerable with your needs.

I’m glad I was able to, inadvertently, employ point #2 and work out some issues with one of the people by telling him what he said made me cry. He apologized. I apologized. We talked it through and we’re still friends.

Ultimately, social media is what we contribute to it. What we make it. How much we allow of it into our lives. Social proof is going along with the tide. I’ve been in this space since 2008. Being connected to others is a big part of the work I do to help and support not only other writers, but also other childhood sexual abuse survivors. However, I’ve reached that point. I knew it was coming.

I’m not shutting my doors. I’m just adding a screen. With a strong lock.

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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Translating Emotion to Writing

When someone asks me about writing, I tend to shy away. I don’t know what the truth is. I don’t know when a lie becomes a fact. I merely write.

I write my stories from a place inside me that aches to open up. It feels as if there is a storm, and a multitude of clouds with diverse characters whispering secrets and emotion I must spill on their behalf.

These characters are in my mind, in my body, in my psyche; from the Greek, “soul.”

Being Greek has taught me how to think a certain way. Being a Greek-Canadian has made my path slightly easier, but being from Montreal, has been a constant battle with languages and culture. This has been a part of my writing. It is inside me.

My mind is too quick for me. The words are too flowing. I don’t know what having writer’s block even means. All I need, as Hemingway says, is a typewriter and I can bleed. Oh, can I bleed. I become the characters, I become the words. We melt like wax paintings.

We become one. My ego takes over. I can do no wrong. Then reality hits me when I start to edit, and I delete, rewrite, change the dialogue, rewrite the descriptions, add gestures, emotions, and so on and so forth to make my paintings come alive.

In effect, my words are a landscape. I don’t want you to stand in front of my paintings confused. I don’t want you to stare at them and say, “I don’t understand what she is trying to do in this scene.” I want you to jump into my works, “cross your legs”, as one of my publishers said, “and light a bonfire.”

Poetry vs. Books

When someone asks me about my poetry, I feel shy. I feel embarrassed. If they have actually read my work, and compliment me, I say to myself, phew I don’t have to be awkward now. I don’t have to explain my writing.

The honest truth is I am more of a deconstructionist. Hence my quote that many writers can relate to, “Understand the poem, not the poet.” I don’t want people to ask me, did that really happen to you? What do you mean by that poem? Where did you go to school? Did you live in Paris when you wrote that piece? And on and on.

No, cut the poet out of the picture. Cut me out of the picture. I don’t owe you an explanation.

Take the poem and read it as it relates to your life, not theirs, or mine. What emotion do you feel? My experience is mine. I can write a poem and retell it, fantasize it, recreate it, embellish it, add dialogue to it. I can make it so far from the truth, you, the reader, would not know what really happened.

In the end, you relate to my poem, according to your own emotion and life experience, and if my memory becomes a part of your life, then that is something rare that I have done. If you want to know if I actually lived in Corfu when I wrote my story, then how will the truth affect the story?

Living in my own head, yes, my character is living in Corfu, whether I, the author, never even visited Corfu, is not at all important. I am making you feel Greece on your fingertips, and reality is not important in this context. I write fiction, I write some facts.

I blur lines.

When someone asks me if I prefer writing novels to poems I don’t hesitate.

Poems.

It’s as if my heart is aching when I start writing a poem, exploding with emotion while I am writing, and taking a final gasp at the final word.

When I once tweeted, “If writing hurts, you’re doing it right.” I did not expect so many people to understand. It seriously hurts. I can cry during, and after writing. Writing dark poetry is my therapy.

I feel my insides pulling me apart when the poem erupts.

I feel my fingers have no control or my thoughts, it’s as if someone else has entered my body and setting my mind on fire.

My mind is a forest fire.

It’s true.

It’s uncontrollable. One word, creates another, and then another and suddenly the sentences become line breaks, poems after poems of raw emotion and streams of consciousness of events that I don’t even know if they took place or not, but on the page, they are real.

So real, it scares me.

It makes me feel vulnerable.

This is the best way I know how to write.

I feel strong in my vulnerability. It makes me feel as if I am a better writer for it.

It may take me a couple of minutes to write a poem.

It may take me days to edit it.

It may take me years to write a novel.

It may take me years to edit.

I like the quick fix of a poem. I’m a word addict. From my first journals at fourteen years old to the one I started yesterday, writing is my one and only true love. The love affair I can never give up.

Emotion Reveals Me and The Reader As Well

When someone asks me, what am I working on now, and I reply, a novel, two poetry books, and a collaborative poetry book, they look at me as if I am crazy.

I feel sometimes as if I very well may be with all these Word documents, but that is how my mind thrives and my emotion and creativity blends together.

I wrote my first novel at thirty-nine. I am fifty-two. I have written five novels, three poetry books, and one self-help book, based on my tweets.

I know that writing has healed me in ways only a writer can understand.

There is never an off switch. The good news is I fall asleep the minute my head hits my pillow.

The good news is I keep learning and evolving as a poet and an author every day.

***

Christina Strigas, raised by Greek immigrants, born in Montreal, Canada, has been featured by CBC Books in “Your ultimate Canadian poetry list: 68 poetry collections recommended by you.”

Her latest poetry book is LOVE & METAXA, to be published on March 23, 2021, with another book coming in Fall, 2021.

Christina Strigas is an author of five novels, three poetry books, and one self-help/poetry book based on her popular quotes that went viral on Twitter. She writes romantic love poetry in a stream of consciousness narrative prose. Her influences are Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Mary Oliver, the Romantics, and Pablo Neruda.

Christina Strigas holds a BA in English Literature from Concordia University and a Teaching Certificate from Universite de Montreal. She teaches English and French in an elementary school, and at McGill University. She created the popular @ArielPoets along with Alexandra Meehan, where they inspire writers and poets to believe in the power of poetry.

You can find her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Website, Wattpad

Excerpt from Love & Metaxa

CORINTH 

Is it okay to be rude for no reason? The reason I love you is not the right one

that comes to mind. I spread love of words dressed in imaginary half-ass wings, on a little Greek girl fragile, watch me breathe in and out Greek— Crying in ancient Corinth

where centuries pass without trace where my parents were born in a small Greek village in the mountains named: Stimaga— where my roots are.

A city of survival or travel, Jason settled there with Medea, where Pegasus became a symbol, the myth of Arion, how love of monuments’ more graceful than building walls of torment— While awake—while asleep, I am perfectly free of evilness,

the restless dream of sleep paralysis, falling wings deglorifying, the past is buried now where my father finished high school where my mother finished elementary

but even reason has a way of changing, turning to outright wild lies; this is where you were rude to me laughed at my homemade history lessons

Go down to the village, wake up the family or sleep in, and shout out the morning for coffee—I can’t hear you now.

I’m on the tip of the village where I first met my grandmother Yiayia Xristina.

These walls await a new language you can never learn.

~ First published in Thimble Lit Magazine

 ****

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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*Trigger Warning: Abuse* 

“Trauma is something that overwhelms your coping capacities and confronts you with the thought: “Oh my God, it’s all over, and there’s nothing I can do. I’m done for. I may as well die.”

~ Dr. van der Kolk

…

If the body keeps score…I’m completely fucked.

My mother relinquished me at birth. Afterward, there was a time, nine short years to be exact, when I was unaware of the scorecard. Adoption was a good thing, or so I was told.

A nine-year-old can’t spell compounding traumas, but my body didn’t need a thesaurus to define the inner ache in my bones, my stomach that churned with acid reflux, daily diarrhea, my blood pushing chemicals to a central nervous system now primed for fight, flight or fuck-it. Compounding daily, hourly, minute by minute, the scorecard mounted.

Nine years is a lifetime for a kid, but how time does fly when you’re having fun. That’s what my 4-H leader had us believe as his sister fed us brownies and he took us little nine-year-old boys to his room to show us his penis. The time sure did fly by, and so did my sexual worth. Fight, flight or fuck-it?

Fight? How?

Flight? Go where?

Get fucked?

Oh.

That.

Right.

I was now a piece of meat.

Abandonment Followed by Abuse

The abandonment by my birth mother set a strong foundation for some pretty significant neurological rewiring, but perhaps if that had been the “only” instance of trauma I might have found my way through life fairly unscathed. Being molested at nine kind of threw the scorecard into high gear, but again, perhaps if I had “only” experienced abandonment and abuse, the actual tally would have been manageable.

Adopted? Check.

Abused? Check.

What’s next on the scorecard?

Compound Abuse

Rachel assured me I could do some long-form writing here, but I already put the details into a two hundred eighty page book, so perhaps we’ll do the “reader’s digest” version just to get us started in the right direction:

I started smoking when I was 10, drank my first six-pack of Schlitz when I was 11, ODd on barbiturates in school when I was 12, was put in the back of a cop car when I was 13, taken out of my home when I was 14, lived in two foster homes, a group home, a detention center, was raped when I was 15, my oldest daughter was born when I was 16, my youngest was born when I was 17, I joined the Navy at 18, got married at 19, my wife left me for another man when I was 20, I was thrown out of the Navy, robbed my childhood friend’s mother’s house and sentenced to 45 days in county jail when I was 21, was arrested for assault, drugs and a DWI that I couldn’t remember when I was 22, and then, when I was 23, life got hard.

I’m just saying, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of hope with a scorecard that tallies up compounding traumas like mine. Or maybe yours. Oh, hell, like so damn many of us.

Recovery and Hope

Like so many of us, I thought that the past would always be prologue, and I had accepted that these compounding traumas would forever be my burden, that I was simply destined to drag those heavyweight balls and chains behind me forever. Then the day came, after so many years of hopelessness when I learned that the multitude of traumas were the heavy balls, but that the chains attaching them to me were mine to break.

So maybe we just say fuck the scorecard, because truth be told I’m not simply a sum of my traumas. In fact, I’m not a sum on anybody’s scorecard, not even my own.

I am an unimaginable number, an uncountable quality of traumas and achievements, a true concoction of all my hopes and hopelessness. I am much more than my worst goddamned nightmares, and I am far beyond my wildest fucking dreams.

So this is how it all adds up: my scorecard isn’t a scorecard at all. There is no summation of my past, present, and future, but instead a magnificent example of the mutability of me. A mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual evolution that upon each sunrise is altered and advanced with every decision I make, every breath that enters my body, and regardless of how many times my heart beats, I do the math and I know beyond a doubt that I am going to go on, that I will remain even beyond the heavens and the boundaries of time.

Every moment of abuse since my birth that has twisted and turned me into a seemingly misshapen creature of instincts in collision has also sharpened and shaped my absolute innate ability to thrive in the face of traumas, and to choose life even in the absence of certainty.

Fuck keeping score. I’m not even playing the game.

***

Connect with Kevin Barhydt here: [email protected] https://www.youtube.com/c/KevinBarhydt https://www.kevinbarhydt.com https://twitter.com/kevinbarhydt https://www.facebook.com/author kevin barhydt https://www.linkedin.com/in/kevinbarhydtofficial https://www.instagram.com/kevinbarhydt

Bio:

Kevin Barhydt is a YouTube creator and the author of Dear Stephen Michael’s Mother. His YouTube channel creates a safe space for survivors of addiction, abandonment, adoption, and child sexual abuse, and to explore the healing process.

Abandoned by his mother at birth, Kevin was enveloped in a labyrinth of adoption, addiction, and child sexual abuse. By age 20, a shell of the boy he once was, Kevin succumbed completely to a suicidal lifestyle of drug dealing and prostitution. At 45, after many years of recovery, Kevin began a painful journey to uncover his origins and the hopeful search for his mother. His book, “Dear Stephen Michael’s Mother”, chronicles the unfolding of these stories. The interwoven perspectives offer an unflinching look at the myriad ways life can cloak us in darkness and helplessness yet still resonate with joy and recovery.

Kevin Barhydt’s life is summed up with these eight words: to be of service to God and others. As a YouTube creator, actor, educator, and disability technology evangelist – as a son, husband, father, and friend – he gives of himself with one expectation: that you can only keep what you have by giving it away.

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

The post This Is How All The Abuse Adds Up by guest @kevinbarhydt appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Hi, everyone! It’s time to venture back out into the world which is a little scary, right? That’s where we are in Northern California – like turtles starting to stick our heads out just a little bit. We’re starting to visit family, actually going to the grocery store, and getting haircuts for everyone – a good thing since we’re all looking a bit like muppets.

Though with the latest numbers in California, who knows where we’re headed. It’s terrifying. Masks, masks, masks, wash, wash, wash.

In case you missed the last two installments of my blog posts, you can catch up by clicking here for week one and here for week two.

This week I’m thrilled to share an insider look into the mind of author Barbara Delinsky, who just dropped her latest hot read, A Week At The Shore, which immediately hit the New York Times bestseller list – her twenty-third novel to do so.

Both Pip and I enjoyed A Week At The Shore immensely.

Full disclosure: Barbara is one of my BadRedhead Media clients (and I’m supremely grateful for that!). I handle her social media, street team, blog and book review optimization, and a good deal of her book promotion.

After finishing the book (which I loved), I had a few questions for Barbara about her writing style, so I emailed them to her and she was kind enough to respond.

A Week At The Shore by Barbara Delinsky Interview

Q: I notice you don’t only use ‘she said’ for dialogue, which I personally love, though as I’m sure you know well, it’s a DEBATE.

A: I’ve actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. I don’t use half as many other words (“she exclaimed,” “she intoned,” or “she declared”) as much as I used to. Yes, there’s something to be said for simple and real. That said, the constant monotony of “she said” gets boring, so I try to find a comfortable balance. This actually ties in with your next question.

Sometimes, the sub for “she said” can express emotion, as in “she cried,” or “she dare say,” or “she whispered.” So it does add something. Still, though, not quite the “show, not tell” rule (see more on that below).  

Q: Also, the ‘show, not tell’ rule regarding feelings. You sometimes say what emotions Mallory {Ed. the main character} feels (at times). If I wrote that in my creative writing classes, my teacher would’ve jumped out a window, yet it works. Again, love. All this ‘do this, not that’ advice can be confusing for writers, regardless of genre, myself included.

A: Yes, it does work at times, at least, for me. But then, I never took a creative writing class, so maybe I just don’t know how to show rather than tell. Here, too, I think you have to be guided by common sense. If by “show,” you mean having a character “start to huff and puff,” to show upset, rather than simply to “cry in alarm,” I’d opt for the simpler.  

The image of huffing and puffing will distract the reader from what you’re saying. IMHO, the “show, not tell” rule applies to larger things, like rather than saying “her husband could be nasty,” saying something like, “her husband could see her scrubbing the dinner dishes and tell her she was made for this.” So, it’s really giving an example of what you’re saying in summary. Does that make sense?

Q: Yes, absolutely. Also, you write about the past in the present tense – I do this with memoir and blog posts, and prefer to read books or even blog posts/articles written this way. It’s more immediate. When I work with writers in my workshops, they tend to write in the past tense. I haven’t read all of your other books, so I wonder if you do this with all your books?

A: I’m actually not even aware of writing about the past in the present tense, unless it’s a bonafide flashback, in which case it would be in the present. I’ve been experimenting with different tenses book to book. My last book, BEFORE AND AGAIN, was in the first-person past tense, A WEEK AT THE SHORE is in first person present tense.  

The latter took some getting used to. And it’s possible that I botched the flashback tenses simply because I’m not ultra-experienced with first-person present. My editor didn’t catch or change anything, though. I agree with you. There is an immediacy to first-person present tense that is nice. That said, the new book I’ve started is in first-person past tense.

Q: Basic skills – I get it. This is how new writers learn. You aren’t new (after writing hundreds of books and stories), so you break rules – is that it?

A: I’m not “schooled” in writing, so I don’t know I’m breaking the rules!!

Q: You’re so skilled, Barbara. Your characters are intricate and layered. This book is a CLASS in writing. Do you ever think about young writers reading your work and learning from you?

A: You are too kind, Rachel. Seriously. I’m just muddling along, basically doing what works for me as a reader, since I have no formal training. Truly. Now I’m just enjoying it.

Barbara has written a few articles for me on my biz site about breaking the writing rules, which I hope you’ll read. She’s a true writer’s writer. I hope you’ll read her books and articles. She’s also an avid reader herself and does weekly book reviews on her blog.

What I’m Reading Now

I’m now reading the third book in the Discovery of Witches series, The Book of Life, and it’s fabulous, just like the others in this series. I’m not going to spoil it for you if you haven’t read these. Harkness is a wonderful writer, and she weaves history, passionate love, and the supernatural together in a way that carries you into other worlds. Even though it’s vampires, witches, and demons, it’s not glowy, corny vampires and evil witches on broomsticks. Harkness’ stories are wholly imaginative.

When I found out Sundance made the first book into a series, I paid for the app ($5.99/month – totally worth it) and watched the entire series in one day. SO GREAT. Perfectly cast, well-acted, leaving me yearning for more. I’m now re-watching it.

What Else I’m Watching

I never did see Being John Malkovich so I watched it with my daughter. Weird flick. Good, but super weird. Definitely takes the, ’15 minutes of fame,’ motto and turns it on its head. Speaking of heads, I’ve never seen such horrible hair in any movie.

Have you seen it? What are your thoughts?

Space Force just came out on Netflix and it’s hilarious. If you’re super conservative, you may not like it, so beware (though they poke fun at both parties). If you can laugh at the ridiculousness of government, please watch. Carrell is great, as usual, and the relationship dynamics are brilliant (and there’s John Malkovich again – great, as usual).

Vanderpump Rules I mentioned previously that this is the one reality show I watch with my 20-year-old daughter, Anya, and we watched the reunion shows – all three of them. I know, ridiculous. Jax is such a joke (his blatant homophobia disgusts me, though he says he supports gays – what?), Jax and Brittany together are just ugh, and Max makes me want to vomit (breaking news – he just got fired – ha!).

And honestly, could Vanderpump be any more white? We’ve been saying this for years.

SO much has happened since last week – wowzers. They’ve fired four people as of this writing for making racist remarks. Either the show will be retooled or canceled. I’m sad to see the epitome of white-girl whiteness Stassi gone – she was at least honest about her privilege. What do you think?

I’d be pretty much done with this show if it wasn’t for my daughter begging me to watch with her (we do watch movies and other shows as well). I’m glad Pumpy fired their asses, otherwise, I’d be done DONE.

Compassion

What’s missing from most reality shows is compassion, which is why I don’t enjoy watching them. We see (and hear, loudly and repeatedly) the negativity, toxicity, and the worst in people because that’s what the editors and producers know will keep viewers coming back – drama.

There are flashes of compassion, e.g., when dealing with the death of a loved one, coming out, infidelity, or mental health issues. I appreciate when Bravo, for example, handles these issues well. I don’t appreciate it when they have not – and they have not in many cases. An overall lack of compassion appears to be missing from many of these people’s lives; however, using The Four Agreements, that’s an assumption on my part; we don’t see behind the scenes or when the cameras are off.

I do have compassion for the casts of these shows who have decided money is worth more than their privacy. They are adults making decisions about their lives, and all that comes with it, as any celebrity does. Now, they’re dealing with the fallout.

“Make good choices!” as Jamie Lee Curtis’s mom in Freaky Friday admonishes a young Lindsay Lohan’s Anna (and we all know how that turned out). Oh, Lindsay. Honestly, she’s such a product of dysfunction, it’s truly sad, but that’s a whole other post.

If only people would listen to their Hollywood movie mothers…

Products Supporting Black Lives Matter

In no particular order, here’s what I’ve bought and am loving:

YUBI: The original fingertip makeup brush is amazing. Worth every penny. How did I not know about this?

Pat McGrath Real Makeup: I’m a sucker for a great eye shadow palette. McGrath’s are pricey but fab-u-lous. Why so spendy? All her products are highly-pigmented so you don’t need much; they’ll last a good long time. Here’s the one I purchased on Amazon. For when, ya know, I actually have somewhere to venture out to.

Body Butter Lady: Lip stuff and of course, body butter. Affordable, smells amazing, and will last a good, long, time.

LipBar: Lips for days, tons of colors and textures to suit anyone.

LipSlut: Awesome colors, and 50% of all proceeds go to support women and children’s charities all the time. Right now, they’re supporting Black Lives Matters. 50% towards charity, 100% against tyranny. Cruelty-free, Vegan.

Their newest shade, F*ck Trump on pre-order, will support civil rights organizations specifically targeted by the Trump organization – I mean, administration. Oopsies.

Here is my current personal selection (F*ck Kavanaugh is a favorite – a pretty brownish-red that wears well):

  ***

So that’s it for this week. Would love your feedback on COVID-19, books, movies, shows, makeup, racism, or whatever you want to discuss. Thanks for stopping by!

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

        The post Venture Out Of Quarantine With Me appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

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Still in quarantine here though not quite as strictly. How about you? This week, I’ve got news, a book, music, movies, and a fab new product for you.

News

With the pandemic, none of us have been able to get to our regularly scheduled dental appointments, which means my temporary crown that was supposed to only last two weeks held out for two months (yay, little crown), so I finally had that replaced once my dental office opened up (kinda, sorta). Lots of masks, testing, one patient per waiting, etc., which I’m personally happy about.

California has been hit pretty hard by COVID-19 – not necessarily in the small Northern California county, nor town, where I live – yet one never knows, right? Grateful to first responders everywhere, yet especially here in my city, county, and state for having level heads and not giving in to pressure from Washington D.C.

So, that was my appointment. Then, my kids had their appointments – they both have Invisalign braces and had some setbacks there as well, due to not being able to go in and have their regular monthly check-ups with their orthodontist. It is what it is.

I’m not one to freak out over this stuff. Teeth can still be fixed despite delays. So they both had their appointments and now we have to reassess and move forward differently. We all had to wear masks and be temperature tested etc., just to enter the office. Not a big deal. Let’s all be safe, right?

Honestly, I don’t get the people who are freaking out over having to wear a mask to enter places of business. Get over yourselves, people. Follow the safety precautions or leave. What’s not to understand? I don’t get the politicization of all of this, either. If you read what’s happening outside the U.S., it’s clear other countries are putting the well-being of their citizens first, not spreading fake news or hoax information. I truly worry about the intelligence (or lack thereof) of our country. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Movies

Not a huge Tarantino fan. I’m sorry! I’m just not. My older sister Caren loves all his movies. So does my daughter and my guy. I’m just…meh. However, I will say, I adored Once Upon A Time in Hollywood. 

No spoilers – just an all-around great flick.

Dazed And Confused

Also great. Another one I hadn’t seen and now I finally understand why Matthew McConaughey always says, “Alright, alright, alright!”

Show

Westworld, Season 3

A million times better than Season 2, whose only highlight for me was the Kiksuya episode. The title is Lakota for ‘remember,’ and if you haven’t seen it, it’s outstanding. What I especially loved about this ep is Ramin Djawadi’s poignant piano cover of Nirvana’s Heart-Shaped Box.

Anyway, back to Season 3 – I enjoyed it. Evan Rachel Wood’s Dolores is hell-bent on destroying us humans and recruits Breaking Bad’s Aaron Paul (lurve him) as her sidekick. Maeve isn’t so sure about that, and neither is Charlotte Hale. Despite some interference from a few males who have no idea what they’re in for, the women of Westworld kick serious ass and that’s all I’ll say about that.

Music

Speaking of music (aren’t I always?), More Than Words by Extreme came up on my Spotify the other day and I started going down the Nuno Bettencourt (the guy who plays guitar, sings harmony, and whips his hair around in the video) rabbit hole. Back when the song came out in 1990, girls everywhere wanted to lose their virginity to Nuno and I’d guess many did with this song playing.

I remember purchasing the album Pornograffiti way back then and enjoyed their other acoustic song, HoleHearted, as well (hey, it’s catchy), and then being blown away by Bettencourt’s guitar solo intro on He-Man Woman Hater/Flight of the Wounded Bumblebee. Even if you’re not a fan of heavy funk metal, you can appreciate this. Interestingly, he’s Rhianna’s lead guitarist whenever she goes on tour.

Okay, so Alanis Morrissette’s You Oughta Know. Everyone oughta know this song, right? Well. This is my story.

I fell in love with the entire Jagged Little Pill album long before I had my first child and knew all the words to pretty much every song. So, when I had my daughter, Anya, in 1999, one of the best pieces of advice I received (and continue to pass along to pregnant mums) is this: have a back-up song.

What does that mean? You’re sleep-deprived, dying for a shower, and you’ve sung Wheels on the Bus and Mockingbird and all those other Mother Goose mind-numbing songs and lullabies so many times without losing your shit, you’re not sure how much more you can take without mumbling to yourself in the corner…so have a back-up song. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know all the words. Doesn’t matter if you sing it off-key.

Just have a song that doesn’t make you want to stick diaper pins in your eyes. That’s what this song is for me. 

Eventually, both my kids learned the right words (non-explicit version). Musically, the title song (which is You Learn), Not The Doctor, and Mary Jane are the standouts for me on this particular album, both of which received no airplay. Typical.

Product

I had horrible acne from my teenage years into about my thirties. It calmed slightly as I approached menopause and has finally started to truly chill the fuck out. I tried diets, Accutane, peels, the works. Nothing worked. For me, it’s definitely a hormone and stress thing.

However, over the years I’ve learned a few things:

The less I fuss with my skin, the better it does. No 12-step skincare routines for this girl.

Start faithfully using sunscreen as early as you can and keep using it till you die.

People laugh about the sunscreen advice, yet I’m serious. My first job after college was with a company that sold sunscreen (along with antiperspirant and condoms – yea, that’s a future post). In training, they showed us photos of young people with skin cancer and that’s all it took for me. Sold! I was 22 years old and started slathering SPF 60 all over every day.

I’m 56 years old now and barely have a line on my face and no wrinkles whatsoever. And, no skin cancer (knocking on wood).

Back to point 1: I’ve discovered a wonderful CBD product that has completely stopped any breakouts whatsoever. I’d say, ‘bullshit, Rach,’ if this wasn’t the absolute truth.

Flora + Blast Age Adapting Facial Serum 1.5% Full Spectrum Cannabis Complex 357mg CBD 

It’s $77 on Sephora and this is not an affiliate link. Yea, it’s an investment, so see if (when stores open up), you can ask for a small sample. You don’t need much – I use only 2 drops at night on a clean face. I’ve been using it daily for 2 months and not one zit. Your mileage may vary. I’m buying another bottle for my kids (who both have acne) to share. That will be the true test. (And if you’re afraid of CBD products, get over yourself. CBD contains no THC, so you will not get high.)

Books

I’m reading Barbara Delinsky’s A WEEK AT THE SHORE and, reading as a writer, I noticed several writing rules she breaks. As a reader, I’m completely engrossed in the story. Once I finish the book, I’ll share exactly what I mean (next post). I’m lucky to know Barbara, so I’ve sent her questions and she’s graciously agreed to answer them.

Thoroughly enjoying this novel (just released on 5/19) and highly encourage you to pick it up. Delinsky has had 22 New York Times bestsellers and is a master storyteller. So is my cat Pip (if you speak Catinese, which I do):

(Full disclosure: Barbara is a client, and I did receive this hardcover and goodies free of charge to help with her book promotion. I also purchased my own copy and an eBook copy because I support my author clients.)

Mental Health Tip

Are you tired of being stuck in the house? So are we. We get out daily for a walk but these four walls can give us cabin fever. Cleaning up gives me a sense of calm, yet that too can also feel overwhelming. What to do?

I read The Mighty regularly (you used to have to create an account – now you can simply sign in with your Facebook or Google credentials), and I saw this visual and find it useful, with a bit of customization (ahem):

For the daily list, we do pretty much all of that, with the exception of laundry. We do that about twice a week. And when I say we, there’s four of us to share the burden, which is helpful (and often leads to bickering among the youngest, but that’s another story).

If you’re alone, do what you can so your living area is clean and livable. It does take effort, and for many of us living with mental health issues, sometimes it’s all we can do to get out of bed.

I get it. Reach out if you’re having a difficult time. RAINN is a wonderful source and they’re open 24/7 at rainn.org or call 1.800.656.HOPE even now, they’re still available to help you.

Till next week-ish, take care and stay self, my lovelies. Tell me what you’ve been up to, please!

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

The post This is How To Spend Quarantine With Me, Week Two appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

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The past two quarantine months have been like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my lifetime, and I turned 56 in January. So rather than regurgitate what you’ve likely read in the news or on social media, I’ve decided to share how I’ve spent my time these past two months along with random thoughts. I hope you’ll continue along with me as I share what I’m doing each week.

Books

Oh, how I’ve missed reading! With my business so insanely busy (for which I’m truly grateful) these past few years, I’ve barely had time to read little more than Slack, emails, texts, and social media updates. Not exactly satisfying for this lifelong, avid reader. This quarantine has allowed me a little bit of extra time, which I’ve put to good use.

In no particular order, here’s what I’ve read: 

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow is fantastic. Read it in one sitting because I didn’t want any of the details of this lacy, incredibly intricate work to fade. I highly recommend it. A mix of fantasy, drama, and a love story (because in the end, aren’t all stories love stories?), anyone with a working brain will love this novel.

  Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng is also superb. I’d heard about this book for a while, yet only got around to it because it’s also now a mini-series on Hulu (which I watched afterward – also very good, though the character arcs and the plot changed in crucial, at times startling, ways).

Curious if you’ve read the book and watched the series, what your thoughts are? I could write an entire post about it, yet I’ll only share this…

As a child, my parents hire a housekeeper. My folks both work full-time and we are not in any way rich or well-off. Neither of my folks has college degrees – Dad is an assistant manager at a chain drugstore and Mom has just completed x-ray tech school and works nights at San Bernardino County Hospital. We live in a small house on a long street in the smoggy Inland Empire of California.

There are two of us, my older sister and me. Then my mom gets pregnant when I’m nine and has my baby sister when I’m ten. My folks advertise for a housekeeper and Miss Louise answers. She’s African American and willing to work for the little they can pay her. She smokes a lot (outside only, so as “not to hurt the babies”), insists on wearing a uniform though my mom tells her it isn’t necessary and comes looking for us in her big old white Caddy if we aren’t home from school exactly 20 minutes after it lets out.

(Miss Louise’s husband’s name is George. If you are alive in the 70s and watch The Jeffersons, you understand why this is an endless source of amusement to my sister Caren and me.)

Being that young, neither Caren nor I understand what privilege means. We didn’t get whatever we wanted because my parents are always strapped, yet there is food on the table, and the lights are always on. Except for the occasional venture to Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm that one time (mom hated it), our vacations consist of driving to visit our Zayde (great-grandfather) in a nursing home in Santa Cruz, or some other relatives we don’t know somewhere in L.A. (I remember one great-aunt who drank. A lot.) We’d always stop at Cantor’s for a soup and sandwich (the highlight for us), and be back on the road. We don’t mind because it is anywhere but home.

Anyway – my entire point is that in Little Fires Everywhere – the show – Kerry Washington’s Mia is an artist who takes a maid job with Reese Witherspoon’s Elena Richardson’s family to keep an eye on her daughter Pearl, who is quite taken with the teenage Richardson clan. The racial and financial dichotomy is blatantly obvious: a rich family who’s seemingly got it all vs. a seemingly poor black single mother, which adds to the ‘fires’ mentioned in the title.

The book really made me think about my own privilege and despite how well my folks treated Louise, and how much we loved her, and she us, there would always be that wall. Granted, it was a business arrangement and my folks paid her for her services, and in truth, anyone could’ve answered the housekeeping ad. The fact that she was African American and we were white created a racial divide that’s undeniable.

The third book I read is Certain Cure by Jennifer Valoppi, also excellent. It’s the first in a series (parts two and three aren’t out yet, darn it). The novel chronicles the life of three generations of the Cummings family; Claire, a woman in her 70s who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, Helene, her television journalist daughter and Justin, the teenage grandson whose adoration of his “Grams” leads him to discover the dark secret behind the miracle technology that is not only curing Claire of her cancer but tempting his mother with eternal youth, as traditional medical industries wage war against the mysterious doctor from China who threatens them all.

I had no idea what to expect with this one, and I’m glad I read it. Valoppi is a former TV journalist from NYC so she knows her stuff. I’m not particularly religious (or scientific), yet I didn’t find either the science or religious stuff bogged me down.  Fascinating read. I highly recommend it.

Movies and Shows

Gosh, so many. With four of us in the house (and two teens), it’s worth it to me to pay for Hulu and Netflix, Amazon Prime Video comes with my Amazon Prime membership already, plus my internet plan comes with AT&T Direct, Showtime, HBO, and other premium channels. For the amount of entertainment, it’s worth the money.

I watch movies and shows on my iPad at night, once I’m finally off my computer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like a super loud TV with stereo surround-sound barking at me after a long day of noise and stress. So I go upstairs to my cozy bed, surround myself with blankets and pillows and cats, and snuggle in for a few hours to watch a movie or a few episodes of something I enjoy.

Another note: not a big ‘reality TV’ watcher, mostly because, as a writer, I prefer well-written shows. I also don’t like the negativity and yelling normally associated with those shows. That said, I do watch Vanderpump Rules (on Bravo) with my daughter (age 20). We bond.

Shows

Here’s what I’ve binged these past few quarantine months, show-wise (no links because you can Google):

Ray Donovan – ggggggreat! Heard it was wonderful, yet truly had no idea how awesome. Liev Schrieber is captivating as Ray. Flawed, human, sad, and, in case you don’t know, a childhood sexual abuse survivor (church abuse). I had no idea going in this would be a theme of the show, yet it was handled with care and truth. The entire supporting cast is also amazing. Every season is great. Watch it all. I hated to see it end.

Homeland – the first four or so seasons were mesmerizing. Then, I got bored. This last season had me falling asleep and then WHAM! that ending. Worth it.

Hunters – Good, not fantastically great. The twist in the last episode will get you, though.

Upload – Loved it! Thought it would be silliness (and in some places, it was, but that’s okay – we need a little silliness right now). Had a ton of heart which I love.

Bosch – come on, it’s Titus Welliver. He’s fantastic. This last season didn’t draw me in as much as the entire rest of the series, though. You?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel – terrific, all of it. Every season, every episode, every character.

Tales From The Loop – amazing. Anything having to do with time-travel or the bending of time, I’m a total sucker for. This hurt my brain in a good way.

The Feed – weird but good and thought-provoking.

Dark – by far, my favorite show year. A German show dubbed in English (you get used to it – don’t let that scare you off), this time-bending, decade-moving hit show spans two seasons and every episode is worth watching. And the music – my god. Amazing. Here’s a Spotify playlist link.

Movies

Parasite – thought-provoking. Took a while to get into it and then boom! It just goes full-on insanity. Well-written, well-acted, and the message of the movie is just, wow. No spoilers in case you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

Hustlers – loved it. Whatever issues people have with strip clubs and ‘dancers,’ get over it. These girls are amazingly talented, are in amazing shape, and work hard to make money for their families. What I loved the most about the movie is that it’s all about the women; the men are only there as a plot device. It’s a movie entirely shot through the ‘female gaze’ (though of course, men will enjoy the dance scenes which are sexy, yet not unclothed). How many movies can say that?

Memento – I think I’m probably one of the few people who had never seen this neo-noir psychological thriller starring Guy Pearce looking like Brad Pitt (who was originally considered for the role). It was great, I think? LOL. My brain still hurts.

Call Me By Your Name – Lovely, sad, gorgeous. (And I will not make a juvenile peach joke.) And the music! Oh, my.

Zombieland – I hate zombies, I hate horror movies. I hate gore and squishy sounds. This movie was cute. (Not ready for the sequel, yet.)

Music

As mentioned above, the music in Dark sent me off on a ‘who are these talented musicians?’ lark. I’ve discovered so many. Here is who I’m listening to right now (all free on Spotify) and links provided here:

Apparat (you’ll recognize the opening theme of Dark and stay for the rest).

Agnes Obel – wondrous. I’ve played her entire catalog repeatedly since discovering her music on Dark. She’s become a commercial favorite as well now. Familiar is the song used in the show that’s received the most play.

Alev Lanz – otherworldly. I’ve not heard anyone like her. Her songs on the Dark soundtrack and Black Mirror are what she’s most noted for (May The Angels, and Fall Into Me, respectively), however, I love all of her work. Her harmonies are like nothing else. One song is layered with her voice and African throat singers – it’s gorgeous (May The Angels). She’s active on Twitter and we’ve interacted a few times. She’s beautifully transparent about her love of music and it shows in all her work.

Patrick Watson – I heard this song, Good Morning Mr. Wolf, on the Ray Donovan soundtrack and immediately clicked my SoundHound app. Who is this talented being? This song, in particular, sounds so large and cinematic – I wondered – is he is a film composer? (yes). A band? (yes). And so much more. I cannot get enough of all of his music, and still, I play this one song on repeat – repeatedly.

London Grammar – I discovered this band a few years ago and still adore them. Strong is still my favorite song, though Rooting For You is a close second. Hannah Reid’s vocals are big and beautiful.

Hilary Woods – ethereal and lovely. Especially the song Kith.

Sufjan Stevens – many of us just discovered him from the movie Call Me By Your Name soundscore, however, he’s been a working musician since the early 2000s. Talented beyond.

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. I made a Female Rockers list on Spotify which you’re welcome to.

Thoughts on Quarantine

My Business

Living in California, I’ve barely left the house in two months, with the exception of going to the pharmacy for meds or for the occasional physician appointment for me or the kids, because of the quarantine restrictions in place. And I’m okay with that.

I’m fortunate that my business is primarily online-only: I work with authors and small businesses on their branding, marketing, and promotion, so given that all real-life events are off the table, I’ve been quite busy working with my clients to ensure their products and services are still viable.

This doesn’t mean I don’t need help as a small business. I applied for an SBA loan and couldn’t even get onto the website the first time – it was pretty ridiculous – like the end scene in Beetlejuice. You all know who those first small business loans went to, right? Not small-potatoes people like me. So the second time around, it went much smoother, and I’m grateful to have received a small loan which will definitely help me keep going with rent, insurance, and other expenses.

I still did my annual non-profit initiative for writers, NaNoProMo (National Novel Promotion Month) this year over on my business site, BadRedhead Media, yet only for two weeks instead of the entire month. Daily blog posts from experts on everything publishing-related plus amazing giveaways. It’s always exhausting, yet I find enormous gratification in helping writers.

This year, however, getting writers to comment to win amazing, FREE giveaways was like pushing a house up a hill. I get it – people are focused on putting food on the table instead of commenting on blog posts, even if the giveaways were worth $500. That’s why I wanted to do this initiative this year – to help writers who are in a jam – yet only a smattering of writers participated.

I’m seriously rethinking if I want to do it next year given the financial cost as well as the personal toll. My first therapist, who I started seeing after I gave birth to my daughter Anya (I was terrified to leave her to go back to work, given my history with childhood sexual abuse), gave me this tip whenever I had trouble deciding whether to do something:

“If you ever aren’t sure if you should do something, ask yourself this question: Is this good for Rachel? If the answer is yes, do it. If the answer is no, don’t. It really is that simple.”

Self-care, y’all.

Social Media

I’ve stopped interacting with the crazies on social media (and who knows, maybe you’re one of them so truly, no offense), but I’d rather stay safe and keep my family safe by working exclusively at home – which I mostly do anyway – than venture back into face-to-face meetings with clients. I support four people with my business and if something happens to me, four people are doomed.

So the answer is simple to me: stay home, work from home, and don’t risk dying from this virus.

I don’t buy into any of this ridiculous conspiracy crap. Sorry, not sorry. You can if you want to. Spending time arguing with people online about it takes away time from my business, my kids, my guy, and my own sanity. Speaking of which…

Mental Health

There were a few mix-ups with my meds when this all started, and I couldn’t get my prescriptions filled and delivered before I ran out, so I ended up having about a week of insomnia which I’ve never had to deal with. I was a zombie (the non-squishy kind) and it sucked.

If you have insomnia, I’m sorry. I feel for you.

It’s all straightened out now, thank goodness. My son Lukas and I donned our masks and drove to the local CVS the other day because I couldn’t wait two days for my meds to be delivered. It felt like walking into a dystopian future walking in there: everyone in masks, tape six feet apart for the waiting line, plexiglass between us and the cashiers.

I’m thankful for these measures, of course, and wonder how long we’ll need them, or if this is our new normal?

My Writing

I finished the final edits on Broken People and sent it back to my editor. She’s had some health issues, so the delay is understandable. To be honest, I’m not in a huge hurry to launch a new book right now. Here are the questions that run through my mind:

Do people have money to purchase a new book?

If they do, will they want to read my new book?

If they do want to read my new book, will they take the money they do have to read mine, and then review it?

Does it even matter in the grand scheme of life? 

I’m an author just like any author – I want to get my work out there so people can read it, engage with it, connect with me. I hope they’ll like it, feel something, reflect on their own lives, learn something new, particularly about being a childhood sexual abuse survivor. It’s a weird limbo to be in right now.

Our New Normal

This phrase is bandied about quite a lot yet let’s face it: it’s life as we know it, now. The anxiety is real, too. I haven’t hugged or kissed my elderly parents who live two miles away in two months. I bring them toilet paper and cookies from our favorite bakery (drive up and trunk drop off, pay online only) and drop it on their porch.

All these scenarios run through my mind: If I go to do this, what happens if? I know I’m not the only one. And yet, we can’t predict anything. So I sit here, writing this post, safe inside my little house bubble, grateful I can pay my rent, put food on the table (delivered by Instacart, thankfully), and everyone around me is healthy.

What’s your new normal? What have you been reading, watching, and listening to? If you’ve stuck it out this far, I thank you. Would love to hear your comments! Safe hugs, y’all. 

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

                The post This is How To Spend Quarantine With Me appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Poignancy Alert: Maxwell Cynn on Mother’s Day and Cancer Our son has leukemia.

Leukemia incites images of beautiful children, their hair gone, their eyes dark and sunken – or old men dying in hospital beds. But modern treatment has turned the tide on the battle against leukemia. It is no longer an absolute death sentence, yet the treatment is still quite intense. The National Comprehensive Cancer Network (NCCN) characterizes treatment of leukemia as “…one of the most complex and difficult of all cancers.” Generous donations to the Leukemiaand Lymphoma Society and extensive research has greatly improved outcomes for childhood leukemia patients and given hope to those with adult forms of the disease, yet patients between fifteen and thirty have seen the least improvement. There are many factors involved in the difficulties of treating young adults with cancer. These are not small children under the constant care of loving parents or older adults with established resources and strong support networks. This is the face of young adult leukemia… my response for these type of situation is that sometimes will be necessary to get the help from a home care assistance to ensure that we are going in the right path.

Our son Joshua is twenty-one years old. The last few years he’s lived on his own in an apartment a hundred miles away from home, pursuing a degree in philosophy at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. He isn’t our little baby anymore. Joshua is a brilliant young man, proud and independent. But Joshua has Acute T-Cell Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

Joshua Rockin’ the Chemo Joshua returned home and is in treatment at Presbyterian Hospital’s Blume Pediatric Hematology andOncology Clinic. He is participating in an international clinical trial sponsored by Children’s Oncology Group. Research has found that young adult patients show better outcomes when treated under more aggressive pediatric protocols. Adding insult to injury, Joshua is not only living with his parents, he’s being treated in a children’s clinic with toys and miniature chairs in the waiting room and Disney band-aids for his boo-boos. Young adults, like our son, are in a strange form of limbo. Joshua is an adult. He must sign all necessary release forms and the bills for his treatment come to him, yet because of the debilitating nature of his disease he is often completely dependent on his parents. Most of that care falls securely on the shoulders of his mother. Not to be sexist, but my part in the battle often involves financial and logistical concerns while my wife stands as Joshua’s primary care giver. My wife and I both have stable careers, with a good deal of flexibility earned through decades of service. My wife’s career is more flexible, allowing her to work nights and weekends so she is available to shuttle Joshua to his outpatient treatments, or be with him in the hospital, while I work the day-job. I’m an hourly wage-slave, so no-work-no-pay. My wife is salaried. But let’s be real, mothers rock! If you’re sick you want your mama not your dad. My wife is amazing traversing the minefield of caring for a strong-willed, independent man-child. She manages his multitude of medications, his constantly changing schedule of doctor appointments, and all his physical needs with patience, perseverance, and poise – even when he is being a bull-headed young man. Of course there are conflicts. Joshua is very independent. But his mother gently, or sternly, keeps his treatment and our lives on track. This is the woman who carried Joshua for nine months in her belly, home-schooled him until he was sixteen, and is again carrying him through months of chemotherapy as securely as she nurtured him in her womb. He kicks once in awhile, and she gets moody, but there has never been a stronger, more loving bond between mother and child. We are all in this fight together, but mother and child are connected in a way that defies description. One of the things that struck me in the video I posted above is Suleika Jaouad’s mother. Watch the video and keep your eyes on her as Suleika undergoes treatment. Her eyes reveal a mother’s suffering as she sits on the side, supporting her child without “interfering” in a young adult’s independence. It is, perhaps, the most difficult position a mother can ever endure – traversing that minefield of caring for a young adult with cancer.I see that look in my wife’s eyes and my heart bleeds. God Bless Mothers. * * * While I’m here hogging Rachel’s blog, the Bad Redhead is over at Indies Unite for Joshua on a video supporting my son’s battle. Hop over there and say hello. If you can donate to the campaign, there are a multitude of gifts, supplied by my fellow Indies, ranging from books to various services. If you can’t donate financially, please share the campaign with your friends through Facebook, Twitter, Google+ or any of the social networks you participate in. Thank you for reading.

xoxox max

The post Poignancy Alert: Maxwell Cynn on Mother’s Day and Cancer appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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We all take things personally because we are all, well, people, aka, persons. We live our lives through our own eyes and experiences, right? This is how people argue with one another, whether that’s in real life or online. “In my experience,” or “In my humble opinion,” is how most of these debates begin.

What if you view things from another’s’ perspective? As the saying goes, “Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.” In this age of controversy, that’s mighty difficult, particularly from a political or religious perspective. I’m constantly amazed at the responses some men give me about being a childhood sexual abuse and rape survivor – what they would have done in my situation, 🙄when they cannot comprehend what it was like for me (at age eleven) or in college.

It can be quite frustrating to explain my perspective and experiences to people who have absolutely no comprehension of what it’s like to live through these experiences, and to be treated as if I’m to blame for what happened.

One of the most effective ways I’ve learned to not take anything personally is by learning and using The Four Agreements, a small yet effective code of conduct by Don Miguel Ruiz. Don’t Take Anything Personally is the Second Agreement. I’ll break it down for you here with examples and how to apply it to your own life as a survivor.

Let’s deconstruct.

Taking Things Personally Causes Frustration

Take my example above: if a man says to me, “Why didn’t you fight back?” which is a typical, ignorant answer from a non-survivor who understands nothing about how the brain reacts to trauma, I become frustrated because I want to educate him with facts and science. Facts and science do not work on someone whose intent is to denigrate and victim-blame me.

The onus is on me to take a breath and examine the intent of the person who is interacting with me:

What’s in it for him?

Does he want to learn more about sexual abuse survivors and trauma?

How the brain reacts to trauma?

How he can help others who have been raped or abused? 

Since the Third Agreement is Don’t Make Assumptions, I have the choice to continue interacting with the person and attempt to have a meaningful, educational discussion to move the narrative forward, or I can shut it down and move on, saving myself the possible frustration of what could potentially upset me further.

In an argument, each side wants to defend their position because we feel we must be right in order to win. Decide what ‘winning’ is going to cost you.

I have the choice, here. I have the agency to own how I take comments from this man (if at all – the Block and Mute buttons are our friends on social media). If I’m having this discussion with someone in real life, I can decide to end the discussion or walk away if it’s not serving me or causing me frustration.

I can draw a boundary because this person’s comments are not about me at all – they come from his lived experiences or viewpoint.

And this is the key to not experiencing frustration when healing from sexual assault – what others say they believe in reaction to our truth is on them, not us.

Taking Things Personally Lowers Self-Esteem

Based on one survivor story:

Let’s say your mother tells you she doesn’t believe another family member sexually abused you as a child, and it crushes you. You find yourself alone and desperate to make her believe you at all costs. You spend years in therapy, yet it doesn’t help. You’re at odds with her over every small thing because this big thing looms large over your entire relationship. Understandable.

You starve yourself. You sleep around. You drink and dabble in drugs. You can’t keep a job. You self-harm. All because your mother, the person who is supposed to be in your corner, of all people, doesn’t believe you. When you look in the mirror, you hate your reflection. You speak so negatively to yourself, even your closest friends would be appalled (all common for survivors, by the way).

Trace that back to the fact that you have taken her disbelief personally. You’ve pinned all your hopes toward healing from this trauma onto one person: her. When in fact, healing depends on someone else entirely: YOU.

If someone isn’t treating you with love and respect, you are allowed to walk away from them.

This is also a boundary, and yes, part of not taking anything personally. What this mother did is terrible, absolutely. What this survivor needs is to stop looking for support from someone who refuses to give it, and realize she’s worthy of self-love and support from a community of survivors and therapists who will help her embrace her in healing.

This isn’t woo-woo shit. This is reality. If the people in your life aren’t bolstering your self-esteem, it’s on you to take action to change those circumstances, not them. If they don’t believe you, you can still seek help and support. Healing isn’t dependent on other people believing you – it’s dependent on you getting the support you need and deserve. Toxic people won’t give you that, so don’t give them anything.

I’ve been in this situation in the past with men. I left them. Cutting ties is the best thing.

Taking Things Personally Creates Conflict

We get defensive when someone calls us out on something they don’t agree with. Our lived experience is different from someone else’s. Intuitively, this makes sense. We fight for what, in our eyes, is right. Remember this:

Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves. Even when a situation seems so personal, even if others insult you directly, it has nothing to do with you. What they say, what they do, and the opinions they give are according to the agreements they have in their own minds. Their point of view comes from all the programming they received growing up. ~ Don Miguel Ruiz

I see this so much on social media, don’t you? I get caught up in it myself, especially with regard to victim-blaming survivors for being assaulted and abused or raped. I cannot, and will not, ever accept that it’s ever a survivor’s fault for a perpetrator committing a crime. We never blame a woman for being car-jacked or robbed at the ATM, do we? So why do people blame her for being raped? It’s mind-boggling to me. So yea, it feels personal.

And yet…I know in my heart, it’s not. People who victim-blame are conditioned by their own families, peers, news, media, and social media to take a stance that makes sense to them and their point of view, and that has nothing to do with me. Arguing with them, providing facts, sharing my experiences, etc., does nothing to help change their minds.

Example: When an (in)famous YouTuber tweeted: “Anxiety is created by you” (and then subsequently deleted it because wow, so uninformed), many of his bro-dudes supported him by explaining that it’s true – all mental illnesses could simply go away if we just tried harder, worked out more, and stopped being victims.

I’ll admit, I got involved in attempting to educate some of these bro-dudes by sharing that mental illness isn’t something that goes away like a bad cold, or is a figment of our imaginations. Sure, it’s all in our heads – our brains, that is. And so on.

Oy, the mansplaining. What could I – a woman of 55 years, who has studied mental illness for over twenty years (longer than most of those kids have been alive LOL), who has anxiety, depression, and cPTSD, who has written two books about it (so far) that have been vetted and reviewed by several psychologists, who hosts a weekly Twitter #SexAbuseChat that deals with mental illness specifically for survivors of sexual abuse – know about mental illness? 

Yet, you see, it didn’t matter. I took it personally. They took it personally. It was no longer about mental illness – it became more about who was right. My facts, stats, and science had nothing on their put-downs and misogynistic chuckles.

There could be no conflict resolution because our values would never align. 

Once I reeled myself back in, I began writing this post. I reminded myself not to take it personally because what they were saying wasn’t about me. I reminded myself about my own healing boundaries, self-care, and how to put my energies into something more positive – writing.

Taking Things Personally Takes Energy

As I just mentioned, that interaction took enormous energy; energy I could use elsewhere. And that’s really the crux of this post. Where are we spending our energy when we take something personally? Usually, we end up in a negative loop of toxicity. That’s part of the cycle our brains play with us, a pattern we may not be aware of. Becoming aware of this pattern allows us to change it. That’s what these agreements help us do.

It hurts when people say something negative about us, and we take it personally. The wound festers; we poke at it, and peel at that scab. We’re so focused on the one comment, we shut out everything else, even the positive stuff, to the point that we’re missing out on life.

Example: In my BadRedhead Media business, I work with authors. Authors receive book reviews, oftentimes from non-professional reviewers. Sometimes, these reviews are verging on the ridiculous. That’s just the way it is. Amazon and other online retailers allow for these reviews. It is what it is. As an author myself, I, too, receive these reviews.

We tend to focus on these rare and silly one-star reviews, rather than the majority of five-star, terrific reviews. This is knowns as the negativity bias, which means our brains are hard-wired to focus on the negative, most likely due to evolution:

The evolutionary perspective suggests that this tendency to dwell on the negative more than the positive is simply one way the brain tries to keep us safe.

We’re not doomed, however. By not taking things personally, we are reframing these situations, and using our energy differently. Comments that strike us as negative could potentially be a learning experience, even if we feel offended. Always be on the lookout for a learning opportunity, or ways to utilize that energy toward something more useful.

Ask yourself these questions to refocus your energy:

What can I learn from this?

What difference will this make in my life?

How can I change what I’m doing with this reaction (or do I need to)?

What activity can do I do now to take myself out of this situation?

How can I change my thinking pattern to grow from this?

Listen, none of us is perfect. I first read The Four Agreements back in the 90s, and found it useful because it helped me make sense of a difficult situation in a corporate setting. I now find it helpful as both an author and entrepreneur, as well as a mom. Being on social media and online is a crucial part of my business, so I deal with many different types of people constantly. If I took everything they say personally, I’d never get out of bed.

If you aren’t getting what you need from someone or something, remember – it’s okay to withdraw. You aren’t a loser. Maintaining peace in your life and focusing on your healing will always “win.”

Please share your thoughts and comments below.

Do you need help right now? Please contact RAINN at rainn.org or 24/7 at 1.800.656.HOPE

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

  The post 4 Reasons Taking Things Personally Prevents Healing appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Every year I pick a power word as a way to guide my goals and progress each year, and this year my word is boundaries. Not a fan of resolutions, I find having one word gives me the laser focus I need not only in my personal life but also in business and writing.

Establishing healthy boundaries is a critical part of our everyday lives, regardless of whether we are survivors of abuse or not. However, due to the myriad of different ways abuse survivors develop survival skills, we may not even realize we allow people to push our boundaries because we’ve not thought about what these boundaries are.

For this article, I’m discussing boundaries we can set in ‘safe’ life situations, not abusive situations.

If you are currently in a dangerous or abusive situation, where setting a boundary with a partner can cause you physical harm, please get help. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline  – their advocates are available 24/7 at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) in more than 200 languages. All calls are free and confidential.

What Are Boundaries?

Boundaries can be demonstrated in five ways: body, thinking, feeling, behavioral, and now, digital. Let’s define this further:

Boundaries represent physical and emotional limits that you don’t want other people to cross. They help define your sense of self by separating your needs, desires, thoughts, and feelings from those of others’. Boundaries are the dividing lines between you and everyone else and they help make you an individual from the group. 

Boundaries also help you know your limits about how much “baggage” you can take on from other people. When you set strong and appropriate boundaries, you will help other people know how to treat you.  You will essentially be teaching them what is ok and what is not ok to do and say around you. Boundaries also give measure to the amount of time, money, emotional resources, or energy you can afford to give. (Source: Therapy in Philadephia.)

I love this definition because it so clearly states what boundaries are and how they work. In my work on #SexAbuseChat (every Tuesday 6 pm pst/9 pm est), as well as one-on-one discussions, many adult survivors find this definition terrifying. Why? Many reasons, of course; the most common is defying the authority figure (usually a parent) who is still involved in their lives, whether or not that person abused them.

In my case, an adult neighbor dad abused me at age eleven. Despite serving a less than two-year sentence, my family and his continued to live next door to one another. Once I moved away for college, I only saw him or his family when I returned home to visit my folks (quite often, since my uni was in the same city), and had no interaction with them, other than their glares at me.

Like any child who grows into an adult, I experienced the need to separate from my own parents. See the world. Be independent. Live life on my own. Visiting them less frequently helped me move away from seeing my abuser as well.

Setting a Foundation

Why is this my power word now, thirty years later, now that I’m in my mid-fifties? So much of my life has come full-circle. I moved to another coast alone in my late twenties to escape the town where my neighbor abused me, pursued a corporate career,  married for love, had two children, divorced after two decades, started my own business, wrote six books (so far), and more. Now I’m back living in a quiet suburb of the same area where I grew up.

My parents moved from that house (thankfully), and I now live with my own family about a mile away from my folks. I absolutely had to set boundaries when I moved back here. Like what?

No popping over unannounced.

No spending every holiday, birthday, and minor Jewish holidays nobody’s ever heard of together.

No getting up in each other’s business.

This foundation has helped quite a bit, though it’s not always been entirely successful (she chuckles ruefully to herself). My older sister and her husband also moved back to this area around the same time I did. Same rules apply. We do the best we can.

Setting boundaries in real life or our online lives helps us decide what behaviors we will accept from others, and even ourselves. If the way someone treats us is unacceptable, we need to realize it’s okay, and perfectly acceptable, to say no to spending time with that person because we are adults now.

What may have been out of our control when we were children now is up to us to decide. 

Ways to Set Boundaries

If setting boundaries is a goal for you, here are the tips I use and am currently working on:

Don’t Worry What Others Think

Just as I coach writers to #WriteWhatScaresYou, and to not worry if someone is upset with our truths, the same rule applies here. If others aren’t accepting of my boundaries, that’s not my issue. I’m an adult woman, and I’m allowed to make my own decisions. Sometimes, when people come at me unhappy with a boundary I’ve stated, it’s difficult. I am human, after all. It does affect me, however, I have to do what’s right for me and my own mental health.

Self-care isn’t selfish.

Example: After my divorce, things got tense, as these things often do. Due to abusive actions by my ex, I cut off all contact with him, with the exception of email, so we could still discuss any custody specifics (drop-offs, pick-ups, etc.). Other than that, I’ve blocked him on text, social media…basically, everywhere. His issues are no longer my issues.

This forced him to comply with my boundaries. It’s also empowering!

Maintain Communications If Necessary

In my example above, I set a boundary yet still maintained a form of necessary communication on my terms. With loved ones still in your life, it’s often helpful to set boundaries up front. With survivors, this doesn’t always happen due to our past experiences and the lack of the realization that we need established boundaries.

Working with survivors, many express they simply cannot tell significant others or family members, “No,” out of a fear of rejection, abusive behavior, or other fears of retribution (often valid). How do we go about setting boundaries around these fears? This is trickier, yet not impossible.

In my case, I didn’t set that boundary with my ex right away. For years, he would leave me constant texts about what I posted on social media and how that somehow was a dig at him. At one point, he attempted to use my memoirs, Broken Pieces and Broken Places, as examples in court of ‘how much she ‘hates men,’ to which my lawyer responded, ‘you realize she lives with a man, right?’ (Hilarious, but whatever).

Point is, regardless of this ridiculous back and forth, I couldn’t cut off communications completely, however much I wanted to.

Breathe and Remain Calm

Telling someone you are unavailable to do whatever it is they desire can make our hearts race as if we are running an obstacle course of trip-wires and poison-dipped arrows waiting to pierce us. Why? Because we cannot predict the reaction we’ll get and also we anticipate a confrontation about it when there may not be one at all. It’s often easier to do whatever it is someone wants us to rather than assert our free will, which then leaves us deflated and filled with self-loathing.

Not fun. Not healthy. Not what we need.

Breathe, my lovelies.

Next time someone wants you to do something you don’t want to do, tell them no. I promise you, the world will not come to an end. If saying, “No,” feels too abrupt, instead say, “I have a conflict,” which is an easy out. Another is, “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

Panic is not your friend here. Remain calm by knowing in advance what your boundaries are beforehand.

Know Your Comfort Level

As survivors, we are often hit with triggers that come out of nowhere. Sometimes we know exactly what sets us off; other times, we don’t. Life, eh? Welcome to our lives.

When triggers slam into us, we face discomfort, horror, fear. We’re brought right back into that abuse headspace. We have no choice – just as we had no choice when our abusers abused us. We learn by walking through the fire exactly what we’re okay with and what we’re decidedly not. Triggers give us that, in a warped kind of ethereal gift from the universe.

Yet, I’m not talking only about triggers here. Actively working out how far we’re willing to push ourselves into a situation (or out of one) is critical to understanding our boundaries. This can be as simple as becoming comfortable with blocking trolls on Twitter to letting clients know you’re unavailable after 6 pm.

Whatever it is, create a list of your boundaries. Then you’ll know how to stick to them, and which may be negotiable.

Change Your Paradigm

A man challenged me (shocker) on Twitter about ‘saying no,’ and boundaries, explaining 🙄 we are depriving ourselves of adventures and experiences, so instead we should say ‘yes’ to everything. I won’t go into the whole discussion about how men and women experience the world differently (duh), or defend the entire concept of the well-documented mental health value of creating boundaries for ourselves, or that survivors and non-survivors experience the world in wildly different ways.

Pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones is one thing. A blanket statement explaining how “we need to say yes to everything” is uninformed.

I will say, however, there’s no shame in working through boundary and trust issues as survivors of sexual abuse. We absolutely deserve the right to receive love and support in these choices. Doesn’t mean people will give it, yet we also cannot control that.

Final Thoughts

Boundaries are important because they help us feel safe in a variety of circumstances. That said, it’s a fluid process. Once we’re comfortable telling people “no” in one situation, it will become easier in others. We may also become more comfortable saying yes once we’ve conquered a certain fear or time has passed.

Remember: This is your journey. You’re an adult. Don’t ever feel bad because you’ve set a boundary.

This is my power word for 2020, so you’ll see many blog posts, quotes, and articles in my social media feeds on the topic. I’m working on boundary issues in my own relationships with family and friends, and I’ll be sharing those experiences with you as I traverse these paths as well.

I’d love to know what your power word is for 2020. Please share, along with any comments or thoughts, below!

***

  Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

  The post This is Why “Boundaries” is My 2020 Power Word appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Thrilled to have my good friend and #SexAbuseChat co-host, Judith Staff, here today to discuss boundaries. Excellent tips here, my friends. 

An online friend contacted me recently, her therapist was going on vacation and she would not have a session for an extended period, a number of weeks. She was very upset about this and in need of reassurance. I reminded her that I and a few others she chats with online, would be around as support. Her reply was “Yes, though…I don’t want to seem a burden.”

For some reason, I didn’t feel either pressured to help, nor weighed down by her distress, and felt able to provide the extra bit of support she needed. This raised my curiosity. I care and, having been in the same situation, I could completely empathize. So why did I not feel burdened? Was it a question of capacity at that time? Or was it something else?

*********

Whose Burden Is It?

“I don’t want to burden you….”

“I hate to be a burden, but….”

How many times have you heard this? As a survivor of abuse, how many times have you said it? Or even just thought it? Have you ever considered whether it is even possible to burden someone else? Is it just assumed that what we feel burdened by will burden others if we tell them about it?

Some people still have this antiquated view that we are meant to weather life with strength and resilience, overcoming whatever comes our way, when in actuality, we now know that asking for help when we need emotional support is actually the strongest thing we can do. It takes much courage to share our inner pain and strife with another, and in doing so, could begin to heal a hurt part of us. Even so, there is still a notion that people are “burdening” others with their woes when those others already have their own lives/families/troubles to worry about.

Let’s talk about burdening. When unpacking a word, even though I know what it means, I like to start with a dictionary definition (a hangover from a primary school education).

Burden – as a noun, it is defined as a difficult or heavy load. The verb form of the word “burden” is carrying this difficult or heavy load.

As for carrying it, traumatic experiences get inside our cells and can feel weighty to drag around. We may even feel shackled to them if they relate to our childhood and we have carried them over many years and decades. When we share our difficult or heavy emotional loads, we are not imposing a burden on the other person, we are looking for support.

By that same token, if they choose to support us, help us, they are not accepting a burden, they are simply caring, as those close to us hopefully would. As well, the burden is our interpretation of the issue. It may not weigh as heavy in their arms/heart.

The professional roles of therapists and counselors are directly related to helping us with what we feel burdened by in our lives. They are there to listen, give guidance and help us find ways to carry our burden more safely, or even find strategies to get rid of it. This is their paid job-role.

They also have (if good practice is valued) support in place in the form of supervision or counseling to cope with the emotional toll of secondary trauma or vicarious trauma, and ensure their boundaries, both emotional and professional, are firmly anchored providing a strong basis for their practice.

Also, carrying it in different ways can help. If we are carrying the burden and it feels super heavy, it could be the way we are holding it, and the other person may, in fact, have a better way of carrying the emotional weight which is more balanced and feels less cumbersome…. So, less burdensome.

Boundaries

One major area closely linked to this idea of burdening others is the concept of boundaries. Our boundaries, their boundaries and the boundaries of those we both interact with, personal/social/emotional/physical. According to the dictionary, boundaries are lines which define the limits of an area, or a dividing line.

A lack of boundaries or boundaries which are not securely in place can create a situation where a sharing their story can become a burden, or at least feel like one for the recipient when actually, it doesn’t need to be if they’ve put boundaries in place and maintain them responsibly. In relation to sharing our emotional and/or traumatic truths, let’s look at boundaries for a moment and the role they play in protecting us from added burdens.

My Boundaries

Carrying personal strife alone can feel isolating. It can cause at the very least, difficulty concentrating, feelings of preoccupation, sleeplessness and more. At the deeper end, it can cause depression, anxiety, and urges to self-harm or engage in harmful behaviors to cope with the ‘burden’, whatever it is that we feel weighed down by. Sharing with someone can help with this.

I say “can” because although the potential for it to be of benefit is huge, it depends on the context, the way we share, who we share with, and what happens after. This is where my/our boundaries play a role.

Choosing to share something we feel unsettled by or concerned about is a big decision. Once shared, it can’t be unshared. A friend once used the analogy of trying to get toothpaste back into the tube; it doesn’t go back in the way it came out. Because of this, it is very important that we give due consideration prior to sharing a personal story or piece of information.

Making a decision to share, especially if it pertains to a painful secret we have carried, such as a story of our abuse or neglect, can itself weigh heavy. Once we have decided to share, it may feel slightly lighter, which could be a good indication that we will benefit from sharing, if we choose the right person, place and time. This is an example of reviewing our boundaries, in relation to letting someone in on our secret or ‘burden.’

The next step is deciding who. Bear in mind that sometimes, depending on the size and gravity of the issue we share, it can alter the dynamic of the relationship in a number of ways.

Once, when I spent a summer hanging out with a teenage friend, I’d met through a summer job, she told me in confidence that she had secretly had an abortion. She shared this as she had been unable to share her secret with anybody prior to that day. Her family and indeed her school friends were Catholic.

She felt an enormous sense of shame at both becoming pregnant as a teenager, and also at choosing to have the pregnancy terminated. Her parents had prominent job roles and she felt pressured, particularly as an only child, to present herself as a “good girl” at all times.

I know now that is was a big deal for her to share that with me. She asked me not to tell anyone else. I sensed she was relieved at having shared it and comforted by my compassionate response. I did not judge her, merely felt sorry she had undergone such a scary experience alone and was living with the uneasiness of both what she had done and the fear that she might be found out and what people would think or say if they knew.

Although this friend had undergone a traumatic time, finding herself pregnant and then seeking a way to terminate the pregnancy without her parents knowing, she had kept her boundaries safe and chose to share the story with me only when she felt safe enough in our relationship to do so. By allowing herself to share, it lifted some of the immense weight she was carrying with the secret and gave her some reassurance that she did what she thought was best at the time.

Their Boundaries

It is up to us to set our own boundaries because only we know where they feel comfortable and only we have the power to guard them. In the same vein, it is up to everyone else to set and maintain theirs. This is why we can never truly “burden” someone. It becomes a burden to them, or for them, when their own boundaries are either misplaced, absent or not being protected adequately.

If our friends and close ones have their boundaries secure, they are not at risk of feeling burdened by anything we or others share with them. They may feel affected and have an emotional response, but that is different from feeling burdened, or obligated to carry our pain for/with us.

If someone in our close inner circle, whom we choose to share with, has not got their boundaries in place and guarded, then they will be at risk of feeling the responsibility of what we share, weighing on their heart. At this point, our hurt becomes a burden for them.

People who are known as empaths are particularly at risk for not having safe and secure boundaries. They care too much for others and cannot bear to see others in discomfort, which provokes them to try and carry others burdens for them. An impossibility, for obvious reasons. The world would be a much sadder place if not for empaths, however, they need support to keep their boundaries in place, so they don’t fall prey to carrying the weight of the world, or at least their close friends and family, on their shoulders.

Sometimes, those with unsafe boundaries can seem so kind and caring, but they are easily overwhelmed and for that reason can be unreliable confidants, purely for the reason they are often burned out themselves from all the caring they offer others.

Managing Triggers

So, once we have our boundaries clearly set and feel able to be there for those who may need our support and input with something that might be burdening them, we need to take a moment to think about triggers. Our triggers. What triggers us?

Thinking of what we find triggering can help us to be a little more prepared for going into situations and making sure we are in fact the best person to help. We cannot sidestep every trigger, but we can identify our common ones and make sure we manage them, steering clear of situations we may find emotionally intolerable.

I knew an acquaintance who seemed to be struggling. Despite myself and others trying to help her and listening to her problems, she did not seem to make progress, just always seemed in distress over one thing or another. One morning, she arrived late at a sports competition with her child.

The rest of us were already there with our children ready. She was full of drama and about how she was late and had no sleep, having been out late with a friend the night before.

She was rough with the child and told them to hurry up and change their clothes. The child quietly began to cry, and I felt something rise up in me. I managed to control my voice, gave the mother some money and firmly suggested she leave the child with me and to go get herself a coffee and take five. The mother was grateful. So was I when she left the room. I comforted the child, distracted her and put her hair up ready for the competition.

Later that day, back at home, I revisited the scenario at the sports competition and thought about what specifically had been the gut-punch for me.

Suddenly, it was clear. She was exactly like my own mother had been when I was growing up. My mother had borderline personality disorder and was very self-absorbed and volatile.

The more I thought about this woman and her behavior, the more I realized that I found her interactions with the child exceedingly jarring, and I found the woman herself rather triggering, as my mother’s complex parenting had a lasting traumatic impact on me.

Once I had worked this out for myself, I could make sure that I avoided the woman’s presence, though was there for the child as needed. The woman had a circle of support around her and by withdrawing from that, I was not putting her in isolation or impacting on the level of help she had access to. As well, this informed my boundaries in that relationship, as it was very obvious that I would be sacrificing my own well-being by having her in my social circle.

Healthy Boundaries

Boundaries which are firm, consistent and confidently maintained are the healthiest. If people have the strength and energy to keep their boundaries in place and not fall prey to pressure, manipulation or even inadvertent guilt, they are much less likely to feel burdened by anyone else’s issues.

Owning our own issues and being clear about issues which belong to others is a great way for us to be there for people. Keeping emotional stability in place while supporting a friend or loved one is a way of using our boundaries to protect us.

This is not to be confused with being cold. We will still feel empathy and compassion, but we will not feel responsible for sorting out their issue or fixing their pain. We may even feel a range of emotions ourselves.

Recently, I helped my daughter through the death of her friend’s mother. It was sudden and a shock and was the first time our daughter had faced such a loss. She needed guidance and direction to support her young friend. By keeping my own boundaries in place, I was able to manage my own emotion around the child’s grief and loss, while being available to my own daughter as she was supporting the other child.

Final Thoughts 

This is a lot to think about, but to simplify it, here are a few tips. As a caring friend, these are just a few things that help me to keep my boundaries fixed in place, and make sure I don’t feel burdened by anyone’s journey.

If holding firm to your boundaries is difficult, have a support champion – a sister, close friend or partner who can help you to stick fast when you feel yourself wavering.

Develop a growing awareness of what you find upsetting, in the news or in books/films; these could be issues that although they are not triggering, they may cause you to over-identify which will compromise your ability to remain objective when supporting a friend.

You are not Atlas. You are not…. Atlas. If you need to use this as a mantra, go ahead. You do not have to take on the weight of the whole world. I have raised my children with the phrase “If you can help, help.” This is because it is important for me to have compassionate, kind children. But a friend recently pointed out gently that helping needs to not be at the expense of our own safety or sacrificing our well-being. Good point well made.

Finally, you probably saw this one coming: Self-care. At all times, be compassionate with yourself. That old cliché about always putting on your own oxygen mask before helping others rings true for a reason. You are no good to anyone if you are not being gentle and nurturing to yourself. And remember, concrete boundaries are a great form of self-care!

So, make yourself available to those who need your love and understanding, by all means. Just make sure that you don’t end up feeling burdened. If you do, check your boundaries, and prioritize your own well-being for your benefit and theirs. If you don’t have the capacity to help just now, respect that; there will be someone else out there who does.

~ Judith Staff

Judith Staff is a teacher in early years with a background in safeguarding and child trauma. She teaches part-time and also delivers training across various sectors including education, police, social care and the voluntary sector.  Judith writes in her spare time, and her work can be found at www.judithstaffmusings.com.

She also has had work published at Feminine Collective, Our Frontcover, Heart, and Humanity, and Say It Forward. A number of pieces of her writing and poetry focus on sexual assault and related trauma. Professionally, she has written several commissioned articles for Optimus Education.

Judith is married to an artist, and lives in Northamptonshire England, just north of London, with her husband, three children, and two cats.

    Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

      The post How Boundaries Can Help Us Avoid Burdens by guest Judith Staff @jcstaff_ appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

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Writing fears suck, don’t they? If you’re a writer, you have them, no matter where you are in your career. Yet writing fears are especially ominous when you’re first starting out. The endless loop of:

What if I’m not good enough?

What if people hate my book?

What if someone gets hurt by my book?

What if people write horrible reviews?

What if what I think is good is just crap?

and on it goes.

I can fully relate. I didn’t start my writing career until my forties (I’m 55 now) for many of those same reasons. I also didn’t know how to start – what’s the proper, right way to start? To publish? To market? It’s overwhelming for someone just starting out, especially if that someone is super process-oriented like me.

Are These Fears Valid?

Of course, they are. All feelings are valid, even if they aren’t always logical (like toddlers in the sandbox, thinking and feeling don’t always get along or agree). For more on this, here’s an article you might find helpful from Scribed Media: 6 Writing Fears and How to Beat Them. 

I work with many writers (as both a survivor and advocate, as well as in my BadRedhead Media business) who don’t give themselves permission to write because of these fears. Here’s what helped me – and it’s so simple it’s almost stupid. A quote. One quote. I’m almost embarrassed to share how enormous an effect that one little quote had on me; how it freed me from my mental fear prison, yet it did.

From Lorrie Moore, author and professor, via a widely quoted interview in Elle Magazine

“Compared with her students, who are often still deeply involved with their parents, Moore says she had a more formal, old-fashioned relationship with hers—which helped her make the “romantic and bloody-minded” decision to commit wholly to her art when she started writing seriously in college. (“The only really good piece of advice I have for my students is, `Write something you’d never show your mother or father.‘ And you know what they say?” she says, wide-eyed with disbelief.” `I could never do that!'”).

That’s it. I wasn’t even a college student – I was a full-grown adult with my own kids. There I sat with a pen and paper (okay, computer laptop) on my desk, journals at the side, ready to write about uncomfortable truths. Sexual topics. Surviving sexual abuse, sexual interactions with past lovers, relationships, PTSD, triggers, and other ‘things’ you don’t typically talk to your own parents about.

And I thought: Geez, Rach. You’re forty-fucking years old. Stop thinking about what other people will think (Nonfiction Writing 101: You cannot know what someone else thinks – only what you think). So, I went for it.

You’re an adult. Write like one. 

And with that, I started to write my first memoir/poetry book, Broken Pieces.

Drawer Of Fears

Take a piece of paper (I suggest a page in your journal or in your online notepad). Write down your list of writing fears. Write down everything you’re afraid of, whether it’s based in reality or sounds like something full of magical fairy dust. Whatever it is, write it down. Pages and pages, or three little bullet points. Whatever.

Okay? When you’re done, come on back. Oh, be sure to print out what we’ll call your Page Of Fears.

***

Good, you’re back. Now take that piece of paper with all your fears and put it away in your Drawer of Fears. Make sure that drawer has a lock (or needs a password). Physically give them a kiss, and tell them goodbye.

Don’t worry! They’ll still be there. You can visit them anytime you want to. However, for now, I want you to know that you have cleared them from your mind and body. Kinda like burning sage but without the burning. Or the sage.

Writers cannot write around clutter. It’s a known fact.

Let Go Of Your Perfection Fears

Your first draft is where you start. Your first draft of whatever it is that you want to write. You may not even know and that’s okay.

This stumped me at first. And when I say stumped, I mean I did not move from the doing anything about with my writing stage for years. Where do I start? How do I structure my writing? Don’t professional writers have official outlines and plots and characters with histories and plots all devised, etc? Well, sure, some do. However, some don’t. Plotters vs. Pantsers, etc.

This entire thought process alone sent me into Analysis Paralysis. What’s the right way?

As a creative nonfiction writer, I didn’t know how I wanted to format my writing. I did kinda sorta know my thematic structure (which, by the way, completely changed after my first developmental edit) – I also knew I planned to work with a structural (aka, developmental) editor, so I took that fear (see point number two) of how to make it “perfect” in the end, put that in my Drawer of Fear, and wrote what I refer to as my word vomit.

Just Start Writing

Nobody will see what you are writing unless you want them to. I repeat: nobody will see what you’re writing unless you want them to. It could take you a month, a year, or several years before you reach the point where your writing is in publishable condition.

Your ‘shitty first draft’ needs to be free-flowing, non-self-edited crapadoodle. You hear me, you little perfectionistic drones? Give yourself permission to purge your words. 

It doesn’t have to be good. It doesn’t have to make any sense which, honestly, is why journaling is so great. It’s a wonderful mental purge and can be a great stepping-off point to your writing. (Need help getting started? Visit the fabulous Leigh Shulman. She’s got a free plan for you.)

Your first draft is not even your dress-rehearsal. It’s more like…practice. It’s just a draft. It could take 30 or 50 or 100 or 300 drafts before it becomes a book.

Then you keep at it. Writing isn’t a walk in the park. It’s work. It’s a job. It’s a career if you decide to make it one and you’re good at it. And you work hard to become a better writer. Whether you believe in the 10,000 hours concept or the old ‘How do I get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice,’ joke – either way, the only way to become a better writer is to learn how to become a better writer.

How did I get better? Even though I took a number of classes growing up (in high school and college), I didn’t feel that prepared me for how I wanted to write now. So, I read a ton of creative nonfiction books (some of my favorites are below) in the style that appealed to me. I took online classes that helped me improve my writing. I went to readings by writers I admired (most are free or cost the price of the book).

I continued journaling (as I had been since I was a kid). And I continued writing – all kinds of stuff – articles, short stories, poetry, ideas for articles, short stories, and poems. And I began blogging (in 2008). Blogging absolutely makes you a better writer and I’ll fight anybody who says otherwise. Rawr.

Investing in myself helped me get over my fears. To face my fears. To crush my fears.

Don’t Forget About Your Fears Completely

Everything I mentioned above took time. Just about every writer I’ve ever met wants their first book to be a massive bestseller right away, pay off all their bills with the royalties, sit on Oprah’s couch because of it, and have everyone reading it on the train a la Fifty Shades.

That’s all great. How are you going to make that happen?

Have realistic expectations. Have a plan. Write the most fantastic, professional book you can. Figure out what you don’t know about not only writing but also marketing and publishing, and then learn.

Above anything else, deal with your fears. They’ll still be in that drawer, waiting for you. Just like trauma, your fears don’t magically disappear because you’ve set them aside. They’ll pop up like that whack-a-mole game, except now you’ll have experience and time to hit them back with.

And yet…I don’t recommend hitting your fears back like an enemy. Change that paradigm. Make friends with them. How can your fears help you? What is it about a specific fear that’s got you so wound up?

Sometimes, it’s what we fear most that motivates us.

Just as I discuss how I made friends with Shame in my fourth book, Broken Places, do the same with your Page of Fears. Make your fear work for you so you can become the writer you want to be. You’ve lived through so much, writer friends! You can absolutely write about it.

I know you have it in you.

  Here is a list of my personal favorite creative nonfiction books (disclosure: affiliate links provided).* I also recommend reading short stories by Raymond Carver. He’s a master storyteller.

*Note: These are not books about writing creative nonfiction. That’s a future post.

Calypso by David Sedaris

Night by Elie Wiesel

First, We Make The Beast Beautiful: A New Journey Through Anxiety by Sarah Wilson

Cathedral by Raymond Carver

The Liar’s Club by Mary Karr

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls

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There's no such thing as 'a little bit of rape,' or 'only slightly sexually abused.' Stop minimizing your pain. Sexual abuse isn't a competition. It's ALL bad. We all deserve help, support, and compassion, survivor friends. posted on Instagram - http://bit.ly/2QAyHwi

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Time to turn off that 'what will others say?' voice and do your own thing. posted on Instagram - http://bit.ly/2HGFRfw

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Happiness may not always be the goal. That's okay. Respecting ourselves, though? That's at the top of the list. posted on Instagram - http://bit.ly/2JxEIcg