Why, exactly, are you not telling your stories?
I hear lots of reasons for not writing about oneself. Do any of these sound familiar?
I hear a lot of reasons from people as to why they’re not sharing their life stories, not writing their memoirs. And while you undoubtedly believe in your reasons, I’m here to say that most of them are, well…bunk.
The top five reasons I hear for not preserving family stories follow—which one applies to you? Click on the one that most resonates to jump to MY reasons why your outlook is, ahem, flawed. (I value story sharing too much to worry about offending here, but if I seem overconfident, I admit: I believe I am right—that your stories matter, enough to be shared and preserved. Will I convince you?)
Let’s nix these 5 excuses for not telling your family stories about your life:
“My life is not interesting.” “Boring.” “Like everyone else’s.”
Whether this is your genteel humble nature or a bit of insecurity speaking, I am calling your bluff. Everyone’s life is interesting, yours included.
After decades of interviewing people for a living, I can say with confidence that even the most shy, low-key folks will start sharing wonderful stories if approached with curiosity and an open heart. They may start out glancing away, shifting in their seats, confident in their boringness…but after a few probing questions—and sometimes a little humor—the stories don’t just begin to eek out, they flow liberally.
I have seen it too many times to count: An initially reluctant storyteller midway through telling me a lengthy tale from their life makes eye contact with me and realizes, “Wow, this is me talking, huh?!” Usually a surprised laugh escapes before they continue regaling me with their stories, and we have settled in for a most productive interview.
The best part, in my opinion? The interview subject is almost always eager to come back for more! Digging into our memories is like reaching into a bag of potato chips—no one can stop at just one…story.
“I don’t want to seem like I’ve got a big head.”
Alas, preserving your own life story is not narcissistic. At least, not most of the time.
Do you plan on simply creating a list of your estimable accomplishments alongside photos of all your awards? If it’s not for a professional bio or a book specifically about your work, then maybe that’s a little self-centered. More importantly, it doesn’t really say anything about you—about who you are inside, about what propelled you towards your accomplishments (and even what you learned from those occasional failures).
On the other hand, if you plan on telling stories that reveal who you have become—lessons learned, adventures taken, and relationships nourished—then that, alas, is a memoir that creates meaning from your experience. Your life has mattered, and how you have chosen to live it has impacted everyone in your circle. By writing that kind of life story, you are giving your readers the gift of YOU.
As my colleague and friend Samantha Shubert has said, “It’s anything but vanity to know yourself and to want to share your story with the generations still to come.” Indeed. In my opinion, it’s a most generous act.
“I don’t have time.”
If your only excuse for not preserving your memories in one way or another is “I don’t have time,” then maybe memory-keeping isn’t really a priority for you. We’re all busy, but I would argue this: We make time for what matters most to us.
Try this: Either choose a method for recording your stories that takes minimal time, or find one that is so irresistibly fun and rewarding that you’ll be carving out time from your calendar tomorrow.
The low-commitment route:
Devote 30 minutes every Saturday and Sunday to writing in a journal dedicated to capturing your memories. That’s a mere one hour per week! I recommend
using this one supercharged writing prompt—“I remember…”
or brainstorming a list of memories then using that list as writing prompts each time you sit down to write.
If you do this every weekend for a year, you’ll not only have developed a journaling practice, you’ll also have written a fairly thorough personal history!
The “I can’t resist” route:
Here are three ideas to make your story sharing process so enjoyable that you won’t consider crossing it off your schedule:
Pick one of your favorite people to talk to—a sibling, parent, friend—and connect intentionally every two weeks or so. You can talk on the phone, chat over Zoom, or get together in person, but the goal is this: To pick a topic and reminisce together about it. Use an app on your phone or a digital voice recorder to capture the conversation. This gives you the joy of connecting in a meaningful way AND an accountability partner to help you stay on track.
Hire a personal historian to interview you during one or a few scheduled sessions. You get the benefit of someone skilled in coaxing memories from storytellers, plus the sacred space to share without distraction or judgment. You don’t even have to commit to making a book or a video—many professionals, including myself, will conduct audio-only interviews so you can have the peace of mind that those are done, a significant part of your family legacy saved.
Join a writing group. Google “memoir writing groups” or “guided memoir groups” to explore options near you. Some of the biggest advantages to being part of such a group are feeling part of a community; feeding off others’ enthusiasm and ideas; getting feedback on your writing; and, in some groups, receiving writing instruction or prompts. Writing can be a lonely andeavor, but interacting regularly with a group of likeminded people can be invigorating!
“I don’t have money.”
There are plenty of low-cost ways to document your life! Writing in a journal? Don’t buy a fancy leather-bound one, simply write in one of your kid’s leftover school notebooks. Joining a writing group and intimidated by the price tag? Start your own with a Meetup listing—for free.
And if you’re considering hiring a professional biographer to help you capture your stories but feel like the fees are more than you can handle, here are a few things for you to consider (if money talk feels taboo to you, please accept my apology and skip this section):
Think of it as investing in your legacy. You make sure your financial assets are passed on to your loved ones in your will. What about everything else you’d like to bequeath them that’s, dare I say, worth even more? Your values, your wisdom? Lessons learned through hard-earned experience? Even that recipe for great-grandma’s key lime pie?
Consider the alternative. What will happen if you don’t preserve your stories for the next generation? Your kids will have regrets that they didn’t ask you…about this, about that, about so many things. They’ll inherent family photos with no stories attached, so—if not by their hand, then likely by their children’s—those precious pictures and mementos will likely end up in the trash bin. Trust me, too many folks tell me they WISH they had hired me to capture their parents’ stories before it was too late.
Tell me: What do you value? If you say “family,” then hiring a personal historian is worth it—passing on a tangible record of your life and stories is a precious gift for generations of family members to come (how would you feel if your parents had done such a thing for you?!). If you say “experiences,” then hiring a personal historian is worth it—for, as so many clients have told me, they value the time spent reflecting thoughtfully on their life even more than the finished book (give me a call and let’s chat about what that experience could be like).
Where are you spending your money? My husband’s gym membership fees were automatically deducted from his bank account every month; he hadn’t gone in more than a year, but kept paying “in case” he finally recommitted. My neighbor pays for a landscaper to mow her lawn in the summer, even though her college-age son is bored and offers to do it regularly. Hopefully you’re more responsible with your money than this (!), but I wonder if there aren’t things that you’re spending money on that mean a lot less to you than your legacy?
“My kids don’t care.”
Hmm, you may be right about that—for the moment.
There’s been a lot written in recent years about how kids don’t want their parents’ stuff. But an antique armoire is a lot different than a precious family photo. A set of pricey china is a lot different than a heritage of stories.
And a carefully told and curated personal history—as opposed to boxes of stuff that your kids know somehow meant something to you—will one day be welcomed by your kids.
Let me ask you this: Are there things you wish you knew about your own parents? That you wish you had been able to ask them before they passed away?
Now: Did you care about those things when you were in your twenties?
And how about this: Aren’t there things you’d like to say to your kid(s)—that you want to know, deep down in your heart, that you have communicated to them?
Your stories are the gift your children don’t yet know they want.
So, do your reasons hold up? Want to chat about capturing your stories—and how we might be able to overcome any resistance, together? Why not schedule a free half-hour consultation to see what approach might be best for you?