The Stories We Tell And The Ones We Don’t

The Stories We Tell And The Ones We Don’t

I write selfishly. I comfort myself with my own words so that I don’t have to wait for someone else to ask me how I am feeling or what I am thinking. I don’t write so that after I am gone, people will remember me. I write so that I can remember me while I’m still here.


A Guest Post by Memoirist Jonna Ivin on How Writing a Memoir Helped Her to Move From “Will Love for Crumbs” to “No More Crumbs”~

No More Crumbs.

When I decided to write my memoir Will Love For Crumbs I didn’t fully know what direction it would take. I knew the events that had occurred in my life that I wanted to write about, but I didn’t know what it all meant. And then one day as I sat at my computer I typed out the line, “I was so ready and willing to hand my life over, just waiting for that hero to come along and make it all better. I might as well have worn a sign around my neck that read: Will Love for Crumbs.” I stopped and stared at the words I had written and two things hit me. One, I’d just found the title of my book, and two, I’d just discovered what had been holding me back in my life. I had been sitting in the backseat of my own life, hoping someone would come along and drive me to where I wanted to be.

It was a rude awakening. The word that I couldn’t shake from my mind was: Will. I wasn’t “forced” to Love for Crumbs. Seeing the word “will” changed everything. It meant that all this time, I wasn’t a helpless victim that bad things happened to. I had been a willing participant in every aspect of my life. “Will” means I made a choice, and I had chosen to accept less than…

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