Way back in the 1930’s, my client-author’s aunt was a heroine addict who every few years took a train from Seattle to Tennessee for rehab. One year she had a layover in Chicago and spent her time wandering the slums in search of an unwanted baby. She found one and brought it home as her own. Few people within the family knew the circumstances of this “adoption,” not even that now-grown-and-elderly child.
Another client-author’s idyllic childhood ended when leukemia took her only brother while they were in high school. Their mother never recovered. Twenty years later the mother, in the middle of the night, went out to the garage and turned on the car. She never intended to take her husband’s life, too, but she did.
Addiction, suicide, abuse, infidelity, incest, polygamy—the list of possible family difficulties is a long one. What should an author, who’s writing with future generations in mind, do with this kind of information? Information that’s so impactful, so powerful, that to omit it is to not tell the truth, yet to include it will forever alter the family lore.
Rather than dig in and try to wrestle the “skeleton” into submission, I suggest you go through a step-by-step process. Like writing a pro’s and con’s list, putting your thoughts on paper has a way of clarifying your position and shedding light on your best path. Try this about your “situation”:
1. Expose the truth to yourself and only yourself
a. Your first step is to write a very rough draft of the entire situation
b. Write only for yourself, expecting that on one will ever see it
c. Put it away for at least a week
d. Reread and edit for ease of reading but leave everything in
e. Share with one trusted and neutral person and ask for feedback
2. Consider what this situation means to you and only you
a. Dismiss the impact on others and think only of yourself
b. View what you’ve written in the whole of your life
c. Search for the meaning and the lessons learned
d. Write a paragraph or two on how you would be different but for this
e. Try to ignore any anger/resentment/guilt
f. Rewrite your draft to add the impact and your insights
3. Face the situation as it relates to your broader story
a. How much do you have to tell to tell the truth?
b. Will your memoir paint a false picture without it?
c. Check in with yourself that you’re not writing for revenge
4. Consider privacy issues
a. Who’s alive who might be embarrassed or humiliated?
b. What impact might there be on your family members?
c. What about your privacy? You don’t have to tell everything
d. Sometimes your dignity and family relationships are more important
5. Make the choice
a. You may decide to leave it out, but don’t hide it from yourself
b. Embrace your truth
c. Ask, if you were your great grandchild, would you want to know this
d. Don’t defend your decision
6. Only you can decide
a. It’s YOUR story; others can write their own version
Hopefully, this process will bring you to a decision you can live with. No, not everything needs to be told, but as the same time I encourage my author-clients not to sanitize their lives. Everyone struggles and every family has their difficulties. It’s just life. And others who look to you as a guide, or a role model, or a beacon of family values, will appreciate knowing your road wasn’t always a smooth one.