Five Steps to Healing Writer Wounds

I had so much response to my post about writer wounds, and while I knew others had been wounded by other writers, I didn’t realize how much it hit home with people. I think it’s because we try so hard to do the right thing, and turn the other cheek, that we end up silently suffering for a long time.

Writer wounds are a different animal from a lot of the other wounds we face. There are a lot of reasons for that, but mostly I think it’s because as writers, we’re in this weird place of being in business, but in a way that makes us extremely personally vulnerable. 

After all, what is our writing, but our vulnerabilities out for the world to see?

Even though I’m listing out this process, recognize that it is a very personal journey, and these steps might be different for you. So don’t be discouraged if your process isn’t exactly like this. Part of why I am including this in my retreat is that it’s a bigger and deeper process than you can get out of a blog. More importantly, I believe that the unhealed wounds we carry around are part of what's holding us back in our writing success.

Step One: Acknowledge the Wound

Because we’re supposed to be professional, a lot of times, when we’re wounded as writers, we brush off the wound. The editor who just said, “your writing stinks,” is still your editor, and you’re going to have to work with that editor again. Or, the big-name author who stepped on you is still a big-name author and you’re going to have to interact with that person on an on-going basis. So, a lot of times, we push it down because we’re trying so hard to suck it up and move on. The trouble is, pushing it down never heals the wound, and eventually, the wound will come back up when we least expect it. The first step in healing the wound is to say, “this happened, and it hurt me.”

Step Two: Feel the Wound

Part of the pushing down process means that we never fully feel the pain of the wound. Maybe it’s because the wound happened at a time and place where having a good cry isn’t appropriate. But a lot of times, it’s because we’ve trained ourselves not to feel the pain. I’ve talked to a lot of counselors and coaches who all say that allowing yourself to feel the emotion is part of what helps you heal that emotion.

Step Three: Process the Wound

A lot of people stop at feeling the emotion. They feel it, and it hurts, and then they sit in the hurt. But you also have to take the time to process that emotion. Why did it hurt? What did that hurt remind you of? Is there an unexpected gift in that wound? A lesson that can help you grow? How can you care for yourself and love yourself in a way that is going to help that wound heal?

Step Four: Forgive the Person Who Wounded You

I have a daily forgiveness practice that I work through, and the thing I’ve learned about forgiveness is that it is never about the person who hurt you. It’s about softening your heart, and giving yourself the gift of letting go of the wound. One of the biggest misconceptions about forgiveness is that you can just say, “I forgive you, and move on.” Forgiveness is actually a process that takes time. You’re going to say, “I forgive you,” today, but tomorrow morning, you might wake up and still feel the pain. And you’re going to have to say, “I forgive you,” again. You may have to say that a whole lot of mornings before you actually feel the forgiveness. 

Forgiving the other person does not make what the person did to you right. 

In fact, you should forgive the person whether that person is sorry or not. Note that I did not make, “confronting the other person,” part of the process. There are a lot of reasons for that, but mostly because this process is more about you and your emotions. You can’t control the other person, or change them. The only person you have control over is you.

Step Five: Use the Wound for Good

I have a journey entry from when I was about 12 years old, and I was processing a hurtful situation. In it, I wrote what has become a driving force for my life. I decided back then, that I was going to use those painful places to help others- whether it be to help others out of a similar situation, or to prevent similar situations from happening. As writers, we also have a third way of using the wound for good. We get to use that pain, that situation, even that emotion, to inform our words as we write.
 

Being wounded happens to everyone- whether we like it or not. But in the end, we get to choose how we use those wounds. We can let those wounds fester inside us, crippling us, or turning us into mean grumpy people. Or we can heal those wounds, and use them in a positive way.

If you’re curious about my story about Matilda, and how it ended, here’s the result. Matilda and I haven’t spoken in about 3 or 4 years. I gave up after I couldn’t get past her assistant. I have never spoken to her about my hurt. And at this point, it doesn’t matter. If she called me up tomorrow, I would treat her like any other acquaintance who called me out of the blue. I’d be polite, but I also wouldn’t give her unguarded access to my heart. I had some good times with Matilda, but I choose to invest my energy into friendships that are more mutual. As much as what she did to me hurt, I’m grateful for the experience, because it opened my eyes to the kind of person I want to be as a writer. There are people in my life that I’ve asked to hold me accountable to that standard. And I’d like to think that as I become more successful, I’m going to be a person of integrity and love. Not perfect, of course, but hopefully my name won’t be synonymous with jerk. Plus, I’ve been able to use this story to help others, to know they are not alone in their pain.

So Matilda, even though I’m not using your real name, and I know you do not read my blog, thank you. What you did really hurt me. But I forgive you. It does not excuse your behavior, but I’m not holding on to it and letting it define me. In fact, I’m using it to help others heal. And while they don’t know who you are, they thank you, too. 

If you want to learn more about this healing process, I'd love for you to come to my retreat. We won't be spending the entire time at the retreat talking about this, but we will go more in depth than I did here on the blog. 

Healing Writer Wounds

I’ll never forget the last time I saw her at a conference. I had been friends with Matilda (not her real name) for years. She was sitting at the bar, just hanging out, and I joined her. After all, that’s how our friendship had been year after year. But that year, something was different. Matilda seemed annoyed that I was there, and I noticed that she spent the whole time looking around the bar for other people. We had a brief, polite conversation, and then, when a bestselling author entered the room, Matilda ditched me. Our emails, rather than being the usual friendly sort, turned into her assistant very politely blowing me off. Basically, once Matilda’s star rose, she left me behind as a friend.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and it’s taken me a while to come up with this post. Because it hurts to go there. It hurts to be reminded of how, when Matilda needed help with a book, I contributed what ended up being the meat of a chapter, and in her acknowledgements, she thanked big name authors who, in separate conversations that they initiated, mentioned being surprised because they’d had nothing to do with her book. Yet, despite everything I’d done to help her, I’d gone completely unacknowledged. Not that I did it for the acknowledgement. As a friend, I’d been happy to help. But it became really clear that she saw people like me as people to use on her path to success, and once my usefulness was over, I no longer existed.

I wish I could say that Matilda was the only friend who did this to me. I have several friends, now bestselling authors, whose early careers I helped, who no longer acknowledge our friendship because I’m no longer an asset to their career.

So why do I share this story? It’s not so that you feel sorry for me, or question my judgement in helping friends who clearly aren’t, or even to get back at Matilda. I purposely hid her name and identifying details because my goal is not to hurt Matilda. She’s a fine writer, and I still believe in her work. I just think she was a lousy friend to me, and her actions really hurt me.

But here is the point: a friend of mine emailed me to tell me that she was interested in my retreat, but the real problem with why she’s stuck in her writing is that another writer hurt her and she can’t get past it. Boy, do I know that problem. So many Matildas in my life, and other hurts, and sometimes writing is hard. I have friends struggling with hurts from harsh editors, betrayals from friends, mean reviews, and a lot of negativity in their writing business. And guess what? They sit in writing paralysis based on those hurts.

I know that paralysis all too well. For a long time, I was afraid to be a successful author because I didn’t want to turn into the kind of jerk who abandoned all my friends because I was more successful than them. It was more important to me to be a good friend who was there for her friends than it was to be a successful author. For some reason, I thought those two things were mutually exclusive.

What a crock!

I realized that I have many friends who are successful authors, friends who are not about stepping on others to get ahead, but are reaching their hands down to pull others up. And that’s the kind of author I intend to be.

But here’s the thing: That wound paralyzed me for a long time. 

The wounds many of my friends have been dealing with are keeping them from moving forward in their writing careers.

Part of the work we’ll be doing at my retreat is looking at those wounds, and seeing how they’re holding us back. But also, finding healing for those wounds. One of the ways we writers are lacking in nourishment is in finding healing for our wounds. The wounds we carry, if they’re still festering, are shackles that bind us to the past and prevent us from moving forward. However, when we find healing for our wounds, we find the freedom we need to move forward in confidence toward success.

I can’t promise that if you come to my retreat that you’ll find full healing. But my goal, and my hope, is that you’ll be able to identify those wounds, and identify ways of dealing with them, so that you can move in the direction of healing.

If someone has wounded you in a way that has hurt your writing, you owe it to yourself to find healing. 

Carrying that wound doesn’t affect the other person at all- it just hurts you. I’m pretty sure that Matilda isn’t sitting at home, thinking about how awful it is that she hurt me. She looks at herself in the mirror every day and doesn’t give me a second thought. And that’s okay! So why do I spend so much energy worrying about her? The most freeing thing in my life has been healing that wound. 

And I want to help you find that same healing.

Obviously, my blog is a little too public for you all to pour out your hearts. But if you’d like to share on the topic, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Have you found healing for wounds? And if you’re struggling with a wound, and need to chat, feel free to email me privately at danica@danicafavorite.com.

The healing power of art, friendship, and Truth

One of the biggest blessings in my art journaling journey has been to see how many inner wounds it has healed. I'm doing a number of different art journal projects, and one of the most daunting things has been that a lot of the challenges ask you to do some kind of self-portrait.

I'm going to be honest here. I HATE pictures of myself. I'm not like some people, who completely shun the camera, because I have relatives who are like that, and it makes me sad that I have no pictures of them. But still, there's a tiny part of me that dies inside when I'm asked to be in a picture. When I see a picture of me, I see the awful labels that have followed me around for years- the ugly girl who was bullied and made fun of. I hear the voices that tell me I'm not good enough and point out all of my flaws. And I think, "I'm such a phoney for all the positive self talk I give myself about my appearance."

So when I'm asked to take a picture of myself and put it in a journal that's all about celebrating my creativity, I think, "why am I torturing myself?" Which means I put off the task as long as possible until I'm finally forced to do it because I can't allow myself to skip a journal exercise.

Today I had coffee with my friend Niki. She does not know I was struggling with this, and yet, she said something that rocked my world in terms of how I viewed my picture. She said something along the lines of, "living under Christ, we are already God's beloved. He doesn't look at us and see sinners, He sees people He dearly loves." I knew those words to be true. But as I tossed them about in my mind, I realized that as much as I say I believe that, I don't live that in my own life. If I really believed that God looked at me as His beloved, JUST AS I AM, then why do I look at myself with labels that are not true? I've worked so hard to get past the body image lies, but as much time as I spend telling myself what I think should be the truth, the old lies creep in.

When I got home, I decided to do the selfie exercise. As soon as I printed the picture, I immediately started picking out the flaws- my double chin because I don't know how to hold my head right, the hormonal acne, the gray hairs, the awkward smile. I glued my picture down, and I wanted to cry. But then I remembered Niki's words, and I thought, "all those things I hate, God loves."  Before I could stop myself, I took a Sharpie, and wrote right across my forehead, "beloved." I decorated my picture by decoupaging tissue paper around it. I like that look, and I decided that it reminds me of stained glass, which is something you find in the most beautiful of cathedrals- God's holy places. I am a holy temple of God. But then I had to take it a step further. I wrote down all the labels GOD has given me. All the beautiful, wonderful things that HE has called me. I surrounded myself with truth.

I look at that picture now, and I think, "wow, I'm really pretty." I don't feel the shame I typically feel when I see a picture of myself. I see me. I see the person that God made. And I think she's lovely. I am lovely.

I don't make art because I have aspirations of being a great artist. Most people are not going to look at the art I make and think I have amazing talent. But that's not the point. In my art, I've found a way to take the wounds of the past, combine them with the beautiful words of truth from my friends, and find healing. I look through some of my other selfie projects, and I like the girl I see. She may not be perfect, but that's okay. God looks down on her - on me- and sees someone He adores.

What do you see when you see pictures of yourself? Do you see someone who is beautiful and beloved? If not, I encourage you to let God into that place. Take your picture. Print it out. Claim God's truth over your image. You are so valuable to God.

ACFW Healing

[caption id="attachment_4064" align="alignleft" width="300"] My roomie, Gina Conroy. A friend who blesses me immensely.[/caption]

My friend Gina has the tradition of giving a word to describe ACFW, and hers this year was connection. Which I loved, because I think it definitely played in to a lot of things I experienced. But I think, for me, the word wasn't connection, but healing.

When I attended ACFW for the first time in 2007, it was at the urging of some good friends. I went, and in some ways, had a good time, but in other ways, had a very bad time. A couple of things happened that really wounded me, wounds I've carried for a long time. I also had a lot of really wonderful moments, and made some really wonderful friends. But as each ACFW conference came and went afterward, I experienced a number of reminders of those wounds.

Over the years, I've done a lot to find healing, but a few pieces of my heart never lost the ache. I came into this conference with a lot of prayer and had a lot of people praying for me. A couple of days before I left for the conference, I had an amazing prayer time. God exposed a lot of the lies behind my pain, and I honestly felt like God had given me some deep healing. Now, I've thought I was there before, so when I went into ACFW this year, I was hesitant, but I wanted to believe, so I did.

God blessed me so richly this year. So many moments where tears would spring to my eyes and I would be thankful for His mercy and work in me. I connected with old friends, and I made new friends. And I was able to let go of the painful experiences in the past. At one point, God pointed out a specific person who'd been unkind to me in the past and whispered, "it's not you. It's her. And she's hurting in ways you can't imagine." For the first time, I was able to look at this woman with new eyes and have a level of compassion for her that I could never have thought possible. Don't get me wrong... we didn't have a wonderful "now we're friends" moment, and I don't think we will. But it's so freeing to know that I don't have to carry the burden of the pain.

Here are a few things I learned:

• Sometimes there are deeper things that have to be healed before you can find peace for issues that you've been trying to heal.


• Healing is a process, and there are no instant solutions.


• Even though some negative situations are your fault, sometimes they're not. You have to learn to pick up the things that are yours, and leave the rest alone.


• There are some really beautiful, wonderful people out there. Open yourself up to get to know them, and take a chance on friendships outside your comfort zone. You will be blown away by the blessing they bring to your life.


• Your struggles happen for a reason, and when you open yourself up to sharing them with others, you'll find that not only are you not alone, but by sharing with someone else, you are helping them with their struggles.

Thank you to all of the incredible people I spent time with, and also to those who prayed for me. If you want to see pictures, you can find them here:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151422099051562.582971.520901561&type=3&l=d58084f282

 

How has time shaped the wounds you've carried?