“One day you will tell your story of how you overcame what you went through, and it will be someone else’s survival guide.” —Brené Brown
When I stumbled on this quote by Brené Brown, it felt like she was speaking directly to me.
Brené and I have a history. You see, my maiden name is Renée Brown, and when I first heard someone speak Brené’s name, I snapped my head around because I thought someone was calling to me. It was very confusing. Then, my pastor began to quote her from the pulpit. It took several times of this happening before I didn’t immediately think he was talking about me. I even had friends come up to me after church to tell me that “your quote” was amazing. Brené Brown is my name doppelgänger.
But the quote here is calling my name in a different way.
Yes, I told the story of how I “overcame” the eight years of Harvey’s illness in my memoir, but it’s another thing to think that the book might be helpful to someone else. That’s the main reason I wrote it, but it’s humbling, nonetheless, to think my story might have an impact on others.
Telling your story, be it of survival, pain, joy, or transformation, is a powerful thing in and of itself.
I have been involved in several groups whose main purpose was to share our stories. Some of these groups, like my dementia caregivers support group, were specific to a shared history. That group was the source of information, yes, but it was also a place of honesty and encouragement. Our stories were similar in important ways, and sharing them brought comfort and a sense of being heard. I blogged about it here.
Several years ago, I was involved in a study group that examined progressive theological ideas. As we became closer, we had a desire to share our individual spiritual journeys with each other. We listened as each member told their deepest stories. It was a powerful thing.
I led another group for about three years called “Story Theology.” The idea was that each week, one of us would tell a true story that felt significant, though not obviously spiritual. After the story was read or told, the group would look for themes, archetypes, and glimpses of the holy.
The stories within our lives are full of power and wonder.
Brené Brown introduced the power of vulnerability in her popular TED Talk. Among other benefits, vulnerability opens us up to deep connection. When we share our stories, we grow closer to each other and closer to the divine.
I shared my story in a book. It was actually a little scary to put it out there, but I felt like the story needed to be told so that others on similar paths could feel heard. I had to share honestly, or the story wouldn’t be authentic.
I’ve told portions of our story in lectures, webinars, podcasts, and storytelling events. Alzheimer’s disease has been shrouded in shame and secrecy for too long. Our particular stories need to be heard.
I’m not intending to say we should all tell our stories in books or on stage. Begin by telling your story to yourself in a journal as I discussed here Or perhaps to a dear friend or family member. Look for ways to share your story in intimate group settings, such as a support group, or a spirituality-focused group.
Your story just might be someone else’s survival guide.