A Creation Story: The Invisible Threads of My Memoir

This morning, I woke up thinking about those invisible threads again. The ones that tickle my thoughts when I’m not looking directly at them, connecting my experiences across a lifetime and then some. The threads of story, of the human experience that I’m living but also am grasping at to try and weave something coherent into a story that helps you understand my experience, and by extension, hopefully your own as well.

So far, my memoir is a tangle of those threads, loose and tight. There are so many stories to tell, and writing them out feels hella vulnerable. I’m meeting past versions of myself all the time, they come up for air and have so much to tell me. I’m just trying to write it all down.

Details from a recent painting - the threads as a visual metaphor are ever present

When I started outlining the book, I thought I’d feel overwhelmed by the past—like I’d drown in the grief and the shame that still lingers in the corners. But it hasn’t been like that at all, it’s been more lik…