Please Don’t Be Mad At Me: Writing About Loved Ones in Your Memoir

If you’re writing a memoir, I’ll take a wild guess and say the story you’re sharing isn’t pure sunshine and roses. It undoubtedly contains conflict, be it minor and ultimately laugh-worthy, or notable and life changing. Because of this, we memoirists are often faced with the uncomfortable task of writing about a person in our life with whom we’ve shared some trying times and whom we love with every fiber of our being.

When writing a scene that shines a less than glamorous spotlight on a loved one, a deluge of anxieties flood my mind, trying to stop me in my tracks. If you were to tap into my mind and transcribe my thoughts, you’d hear an onslaught of questions and scoldings that sound something like this: 

What if I can’t figure out how to write this person as a round character and readers dismiss them as an asshole instead?

What if my loved one reads this after I publish it and is mad at me? What if they feel I got it all wrong? 

Is this my story to tell? Am I allowed to tell their story through my perspective?

Creative writing instructor Junse Kim of San Francisco State University, who taught me some of my most valued craft applications for creative writing, refers to this as a processing issue. For fiction writing, he advises tapping deep into the psychological depths of your characters as if they were real, which means tapping into their unfiltered, often uncomfortable or embarrassing feelings, desires, and values. He says processing issues can arise for writers because it is instinctual to be emotionally protective: of ourselves, of those we love, and even of fictional characters we create. 

When writing memoir, the desire to emotionally protect ourselves and our loved ones is amplified because, of course, our characters are real. We care about them. This is a beautiful thing and should not, by any means, be thrown to the wayside when writing our conflicts or dramas. 

However, to emotionally move your readers, the true colors of these conflicts and how you honestly felt or how a loved one reacted in the heat of the moment cannot be dulled. To go to that place and put it on the page in all of its boldness takes immense courage.

And, thankfully, courage is always rewarded. When reflecting on the memoirs and nonfiction books I’ve read and adored, none of them shy away from delivering difficult scenes depicting themselves or their loved ones in all of their raw human glory. What I gain from this work is an expanded sense of empathy and compassion for the breadth of human experience. I am reminded that no matter what it looks like, we are all truly doing our best with the cards we’ve been dealt and how we learn to play them. I’d be here all day if I were to list all the factors potentially influencing a person’s life path, challenges, and decisions, but the only thing that really matters is this: our journeys to well being and triumph are often messy and difficult. We are humans, after all. 

With that in mind, dear writer, never forget that you are doing heart-centered work in your quest to write your memoir. By sharing your story and choosing not to bypass scenes that are difficult or scary to write, you are giving your readers an opportunity to expand their capacities for acceptance, compassion, and empathy.

To dispel the anxiety and concern that comes with writing about other people, my gift to you is this six-piece toolkit I’ve created to keep my head above water while writing difficult scenes.

1. Let yourself write with wild abandon, as if it were a journal entry.

This mindset is crucial to your earliest drafts. If those critical voices crowd your mind when trying (or failing) to eke out a sentence or two, take a moment to center yourself with deep breathing. Take a moment to calm yourself so you can pour onto the page anything and everything that comes up, without fear or judgment. It may help to write a note and place it somewhere directly in your line of vision that reads something like, “I am loved, lovable, and safe no matter what I write today. I accept and honor whatever comes forth and know it is a valued part of my writing process.” Maybe you look in the mirror and say this as an affirmation before writing. Or maybe you make a deal with yourself to write this difficult scene nonstop for a set period of time and you are not allowed to delete anything. Maybe you try all three of these tactics. 

Whatever you decide to do, it is essential to allow yourself to write with wild abandon, free of judgment to simply get out what you can. There will be plenty of time for editing later. But to begin, you simply need to dive in. Your job here is to spill your words as vulnerably and raw as possible. When you allow yourself to do this, you produce some emotionally authentic fodder to work with. This is where the heart of your story is seeded.

2. Ask for guidance from a higher power.

Hear me out, because this tip still applies, regardless of your particular religious or spiritual beliefs (or non-beliefs). When I say “higher power” I am not referring to a specific god or deity; although you certainly can refer to one that you do believe in. Your higher power can be anything in your world giving you courage to write these difficult scenes. It can be the editor or book coach you feel safe with and have chosen to work with. It can be an author you look up to who has also written a book that was undoubtedly no emotional walk in the park to write. Perhaps you can tap into a “higher self” within yourself. Maybe it’s an archangel, a spirit animal, or your furbaby who diligently warms your feet as you write. Maybe it’s your cup of coffee (coffee devotees, I see you). Whatever boosts your confidence and gives you the chutzpah to write hard stuff, lean into it. Know that this source of strength is always available, guiding you in this process.

When I sit down to write a difficult scene, I’ll often say a prayer for myself addressing loved ones who have passed on and my version of God, whom I refer to as Spirit. My prayer often goes something like this: “Dear Spirit, Mom, John, and Cory, thank you so much for guiding me in my process of writing this difficult scene. You know I love and appreciate [fill in the name of the person involved in the applicable conflict] very much and I intend to convey this in my book. In this scene, however, thank you for helping me write fearlessly and to trust whatever wants to come out.” Saying this often helps me write with much more ease. 

3. Maybe get on the therapy train (if you aren’t already).

When I first started writing my memoir, a lot of baggage resurfaced and I almost wanted to quit writing it altogether. I began to feel unsure of whether or not it would wreak havoc on my mental health to relive certain memories and write them in explicit detail for anyone to read. 

Therapy was and continues to be a massive help. My therapist helps me confront feelings of fear around owning my perspective and experience as I write my memoir. When I publish my book, you bet your sweet behind she’ll be in the credits! And this may be a place of support for you as well.

4. Create or join a supportive memoir or nonfiction writing group.

When writing memoir, it is important that you do not share your early drafts of whatever you’re writing with any random Joe or Jane willing to read and give you their thoughts. (Despite what you may have heard, beta readers aren’t always a great fit for memoir!) Why? Because writing your story can be a tender process. It is imperative to be intentional about who you share your developing work with and why. 

You do not need to be enrolled in an MFA creative writing program to write something you’d like to publish. Some of the most compelling writers I’ve ever read have absolutely no formal writing training. However, one of the most beneficial things I received from the MFA program I attended was connecting with an incredible community of people who also wanted to write a book. II met people who shared my writing anxieties, excitement, and determination. Even more, we bonded in workshops where guidelines on how to respectfully and effectively critique one another’s work was established. After graduating from the program, I stayed in touch with writers I met there and we made plans to meet once a month, share our work, and give one another feedback. 

When you create or join a supportive writing group, a safe space is established. This is critical. In our group, for example, it was understood that a person’s perspective of their experience was not on the table for critiquing because it was theirs to rightfully claim and must be honored. One could, however, comment if they felt an emotional distance taking them out of a scene, if they felt a character could use further development, or if they felt confused on the timeline. When writers know that the emotional courage it took to write what they’ve written is being honored, they feel emboldened to write more openly and are thus more creatively expansive in their writing. If you aren’t already a part of a supportive writing community, I highly recommend you join one. 

5. Remember that we’re all round characters.

This is something to fiercely keep in mind when experiencing guilt, shame, or fear about depicting a loved one (or yourself) in a less-than-flattering light. 

To write a round character is to illustrate a character’s complexities and humanity, rather than writing them as one-dimensional villains or heroes. To be a pure villain or hero is hardly convincing when it comes to being a human in these real lives of ours. 

When you’re writing a difficult scene concerning a person you love, remember to investigate everything about their character that made their behavior round and complex. What do you imagine they were feeling during that low moment of theirs and why may they have been feeling it? What were they afraid of? Who or what were they protecting? Where or how had they been hurt before? Of course, you can never speak for them, but you can ponder—and honor—their perspective. If you feel emboldened and safe, you may want to sit down and ask them how they felt at that moment and what they were thinking. If approached with sensitivity, this could be a moment of healing for the both of you. 

What’s important is that you care about showing their humanity, which shows you love, forgive, and understand them (or at least you’re trying to). What a beautiful thing. Your memoir will shine if you continuously investigate the people you are writing about as round characters. 

6. Find a trusted book coach to work with.

Yes, you are getting ready to bare your story to the public. But in the early stages of writing your book, you still need someone to receive your story with sensitivity and care. This is why working with a trusted book coach is a must.

When you’re ready to work with a book coach (at any point in your book writing journey), make sure you feel utterly comfortable and supported with this book coach. Anything less than this is an indication that they are not for you, and that is perfectly okay. It doesn’t mean you’re a poor writer or they are a poor book coach. It just means that the connection is off. Your book deserves the support of a book coach you feel you can trust with absolutely anything and that you know will help transform your book into a publish-ready masterpiece while uplifting and encouraging you along the way. 

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Never forget, dear writer, that you—and your story—deserve to feel loved, supported, and safe during the writing process. Please use these tools and reach out when support is needed. Writing your memoir is a long journey, but you don’t need to do it alone.

Lots of love,