First, Word Vomit. Then, Art 🎨

So here we are… the grand finale. The last curtain call in this behind-the-scenes series.

And today? 

We’re digging into the question that's on everyone's mind: How do you stay sane while writing about insane things?  😂

Alright, alright, the actual question my publisher asked was, How did you maintain your well-being while writing about what you experienced? but the first one seems to cover the bases 😄

It was early 2020 when I started writing my book… and we all know what that was like.

My job as an Executive Director of a youth program shut down overnight, and my part-time therapy practice moved online.

Suddenly, I had time and space to write—and I was still getting paid. 🤭

Honestly, I was thrilled. Writing was all I could think about.

I’d imagined a book about my life since I was a kid and had spent my 29th year dedicated to understanding forgiveness and letting go of anger and resentment, so by the time I sat down to write, I was ready.

Of course, there were times when writing was hard, but for the most part, I enjoyed going back through my stacks of journals and reconnecting with the younger parts of myself.

But let’s be real, that first draft? Five months of pure word vomit. Not art. Not even close. 

But it was out of my body and onto the page, and that’s what mattered.

Fast forward to 2023 when I joined More to the Story, a writing program for women to start and finish their memoirs, that’s when things got real.

I wrote 3 drafts in one year and THAT was more challenging.

See, when you write a book, the favorite thing for an editor to say (and the most dreaded for an author to hear) is, “Expand on this topic.”

Even though it feels like trying to squeeze water from a rock, what they want is for you to go deeper and really make scenes come alive. 

That's what makes a great read. 

Although, as you can imagine, that was… harder. 

Luckily, at that time I was living with my Van Man in his built-out Sprinter van, traveling the country. The van felt like a cabin-in-the-woods-on-wheels, and having a supportive companion by my side was a lifeline.

Here’s the advice I’d give anyone about diving into heavy topics: Have someone on hand you can cry to, cuddle with and who will be patient as you navigate the ups and downs that come with excavating the past. And, if they can make you laugh through it too, that’s a bonus.

For me, that experience was incredibly healing. 

Previously, I’d shared my story with therapists, professionals, friends, and family, but never with the same emotional rawness—and never while being physically comforted in the way my Inner Child craved.

Because let’s be honest: when my Inner Child, little Brinn Emily, is upset, she doesn’t want words. She wants to be held.

And most of my adult life, when I’ve really needed that, I’ve been alone or in spaces where it wasn’t appropriate.

But here’s the thing: that kind of comfort isn’t just “nice.” It’s what our nervous systems are wired for. It even has a fancy scientific name: co-regulation. 

And while he didn’t know every detail of what I was writing, just being physically and emotionally present in those moments gave my younger-self what she needed. 

And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Looking back, maintaining my well-being while writing wasn’t about being perfectly balanced. It was about having enough support, both inside myself and around me, to keep going. 

And honestly, that’s what healing has always been for me too. 

It’s not about being perfect, it’s about putting one foot in front of the other and reminding yourself that it's okay to take breaks, take deep breaths and to let people in.