Why Your Story Matters: Owning Your Narrative After Trauma
The revolutionary act of taking back your story and why it changes everything
Today I want to talk about something that changed everything for me the power of taking your story back into your own hands.
The moment you decide that what happened to you, what you survived, what shaped you that's yours now. They don't own it anymore. You do.
Whether you write it down, whether you speak it out loud, whether you share it publicly or just acknowledge it privately there is profound power in reclaiming your narrative.
In saying, "This is my story, and I get to tell it my way."
And I think this is one of the most revolutionary acts a trauma survivor can take.
So let's talk about what it means to take your story back, why it matters, and how it changes everything.
When My Story Wasn't Mine
Let me start by telling you what it felt like when my story wasn't mine.
For years decades, really other people controlled the narrative of my life.
My mother controlled it. She got to decide:
What happened
What it meant
Whether it was "that bad" or if I was just being dramatic
She got to rewrite history, minimize the abuse, gaslight me about my own experiences.
And I believed her version more than I believed my own.
Because she was the adult. She was the parent. She was the one with power. So her story became the official story, and my truth got buried under her lies.
The Voice That Stayed
Even after I went no contact, even after I started healing, I still carried her version of events in my head.
I still:
Questioned my own memories
Wondered if maybe I was wrong
Thought maybe it wasn't that bad
Believed maybe I was the problem all along
Her voice was still in my head, still controlling the narrative, still telling me my story wasn't mine to tell.
And that's what abusers do, right?
They don't just hurt you in the moment. They take ownership of what happened. They get to decide what it meant.
They get to:
Minimize it
Deny it
Reframe it
Make you doubt your own reality
And even after you leave, even after you're physically safe, they still own the story in your mind.
Until you take it back.
The Moment I Started Taking My Story Back
Let me tell you about the moment I started taking my story back.
I started writing letters. Letters I never sent to my mother, letters where I said everything I couldn't say to her face.
And in those letters, I got to tell the truth. My truth. Not her version. Not the sanitized, minimized, gaslighted version. The real version.
I wrote about:
What she did (specifically, clearly, without softening it or making excuses for her)
How it made me feel
The damage it caused
Why I left
And I didn't apologize for any of it.
The Shift
And something shifted in me.
Because for the first time, I was the one holding the pen. I was the one deciding what the story was.
She didn't get a say. She didn't get to interrupt or correct me or tell me I was remembering it wrong.
It was my story. And I got to tell it.
That was the beginning. Those letters were private just for me, just to process, just to get it out.
But they taught me something crucial: I could reclaim my narrative. I could take back the power she'd had over my story for so long.
And eventually, those private letters became a book. A published memoir. My story, in my words, for anyone who needs to hear it.
But here's what I need you to understand: the power wasn't in publishing it. The power was in writing it in the first place.
The power was in:
Deciding that my truth mattered more than her lies
Taking ownership of my own narrative
What It Means to Take Your Story Back
Taking your story back doesn't necessarily mean writing a book or sharing it publicly.
It means claiming ownership of your own truth.
It means deciding that you get to define:
What happened to you
What it meant
Who you are because of it
It means you stop letting the person who hurt you control the narrative.
They don't get to:
Decide if it was "that bad"
Rewrite history
Tell you how you should feel about what they did
Minimize your pain
Gaslight you about your reality
You get to say: This is what happened. This is how it affected me. This is my truth. And it matters.
Reclaiming Yourself
And here's the thing when you take your story back, you're not just reclaiming the past. You're reclaiming yourself.
Because for so long, your story has been tangled up with:
Shame
Their version of events
Their justifications and excuses
And as long as they own the narrative, you're still living in their story. You're still the character they created—the dramatic one, the sensitive one, the ungrateful one, the problem.
But when you take your story back, you get to rewrite who you are.
You get to be the author of your own life. You get to decide what the story means and who you're becoming.
This Isn't About Pretending You're Fine
Now, let me be really clear about something: taking your story back doesn't mean what happened didn't hurt.
This isn't about:
Pretending you're fine
Acting like the trauma doesn't matter
Claiming you've moved on and it doesn't affect you anymore
That's bypassing. That's toxic positivity. That's not what I'm talking about.
Taking your story back means acknowledging the hurt fully, honestly, without minimizing it and then deciding what you're going to do with it.
It means honoring your pain while also refusing to let that pain be the only thing that defines you.
It means saying:
"Yes, this terrible thing happened to me. Yes, it hurt me deeply. Yes, it changed me. And also I survived it. I'm healing from it. I'm building a life beyond it. I'm not just a victim of what they did. I'm also the survivor who got out. I'm also the person who's breaking cycles. I'm also the author of what comes next."
You get to hold both truths: you were hurt, and you're healing. They wounded you, and you're reclaiming yourself.
Different Ways to Take Your Story Back
Let's talk about the different ways you can take your story back, because it's not one-size-fits-all.
Writing
Journaling, letters you never send, blog posts, poetry, memoir. Getting it out of your body and onto the page where you can see it, where you can name it, where you can own it.
Speaking
Telling a therapist. Telling a trusted friend. Telling your story out loud, hearing your own voice say the words, claiming it in the speaking of it.
Art
Painting it, photographing it, expressing it through music or movement or any creative medium that lets you process and reclaim without having to find the exact words.
Testimony
Sharing in support groups, speaking publicly, using your story to help others who are walking the same path.
Internal Work
The private work of acknowledging your truth to yourself. Of writing it in a journal no one will ever read. Of speaking it out loud in an empty room. Of simply deciding, in your own mind and heart, "This is my story. I'm taking it back."
There's no right way to do this. There's only your way.
The power isn't in the method. The power is in the claiming. The power is in deciding that you own your truth, that your version matters, that you get to tell it.
What Happens When You Take Your Story Back
Let me tell you what happens when you take your story back:
1. You Stop Living in Their Version of Reality
You stop:
Questioning your own memories
Minimizing what you went through
Making excuses for them
You get to exist in your truth instead of their lies.
2. You Break the Shame Cycle
Shame lives in silence. Shame lives in secrets. Shame lives in the gap between what really happened and what you're allowed to say happened.
But when you claim your story, when you speak your truth, shame loses its power.
You're no longer carrying their secret. You're no longer protecting their reputation at the cost of your healing.
3. You Reclaim Your Voice
For so long, you were silenced either explicitly or implicitly. You learned that your truth didn't matter, that speaking up had consequences, that it was safer to stay quiet.
But when you take your story back, you prove to yourself that:
Your voice matters
You have the right to speak
Your truth deserves to be heard
4. You Become the Author of Your Own Life
You stop being a character in someone else's story the story where you're the problem, the difficult one, the one who's too sensitive.
You start being the protagonist of your own story the one who survived, who healed, who broke cycles, who built something beautiful from the ashes.
5. You Give Others Permission Too
And this is the one that surprised me the most, you give other people permission to tell their truth too.
When you take your story back, you create space for others to do the same.
Every time I share my story, someone reaches out to say, "Me too. I thought I was the only one. I thought I was crazy. Your story gave me permission to acknowledge my own truth."
That's the ripple effect of reclaiming your narrative. It's not just about you—it's about every person who needs to see someone else do it first to know it's possible.
Yes, It Can Be Scary
Now, I want to address something important: taking your story back can be scary.
There's risk involved.
When you claim your truth, especially if you share it with others, there might be consequences:
People might not believe you
They might defend the person who hurt you
They might tell you you're being dramatic or holding grudges or that you should just move on
Your abuser might retaliate
They might spread their own version of events
They might try to discredit you or paint themselves as the victim
And that's scary. That's real. I'm not going to pretend it's not.
But here's what I learned: those consequences are worth it for the freedom that comes from owning your truth.
Living in someone else's narrative, carrying their version of events, protecting their reputation while your truth stays buried, has consequences too.
It costs you:
Your peace
Your sense of self
Your voice
And yes, taking your story back might be uncomfortable. It might be messy. It might create conflict.
But at least you'll be living in your truth instead of their lies. At least you'll be free.
What Freedom Feels Like
Let me tell you what it feels like now, years after taking my story back.
I don't carry her version of events anymore. I don't question my memories. I don't minimize what I went through. I know my truth, and I own it fully.
I don't feel shame about what happened to me. I feel sad sometimes. I feel angry sometimes. I grieve what I lost and what I never had.
But I don't feel ashamed. Because it wasn't my fault. I was a child. She was the adult. And I get to say that now without her voice in my head telling me I'm wrong.
I have my voice back. I can speak my truth without fear. I can share my story to help others. I can stand in my reality without apologizing for it.
And most importantly, I'm free. I'm free from her control. I'm free from her narrative. I'm free to be who I actually am instead of who she said I was.
That freedom is everything. That freedom is worth every uncomfortable moment it took to get here.
Questions to Ask Yourself
So here's what I want to ask you:
Whose story are you still carrying?
Whose version of events is still living in your head, controlling your narrative, making you doubt your own truth?
What would it look like to take that story back?
To claim it as yours? To say, "This is what happened. This is my truth. And it matters."
You don't have to write a book. You don't have to share it publicly. You don't have to tell anyone if you're not ready.
But what if you started privately?
What if you:
Wrote it down, just for yourself?
Spoke it out loud in an empty room?
Acknowledged your truth to yourself, even if no one else ever knows?
Because your story is yours. It always was. They just convinced you it wasn't.
But you can take it back. You can reclaim your narrative. You can decide that your truth matters more than their lies.
You can:
Break the silence
Speak your reality
Own your story
And when you do, everything changes.
You stop living in their version of your life and start living in your own. You stop carrying their shame and start claiming your truth. You stop being the character they created and start being the author of your own story.
Your Story Has Power
Your story is powerful. Your truth matters. Your voice deserves to be heard.
They don't own your story anymore. It's yours. It's always been yours. And you get to tell it however you need to.
Whether you whisper it in private or shout it from the rooftops. Whether you write it in a journal no one will read or publish it for the world to see. Whether you share it with one trusted person or with thousands.
However you tell it, whenever you're ready, just know that taking your story back is one of the most powerful things you can do in your healing journey.
Because you're not just reclaiming your past. You're reclaiming yourself.
If You're Ready to Write Your Story
If you're ready to take your story back through the power of writing with safety, with support, with a map that guides you every step of the way I created something for you.
The Trauma-Informed Publishing Blueprint is a 90-day program designed to help trauma survivors write and finish their memoirs without re-traumatizing themselves in the process.
Remember This
Your story is yours. And you have every right to claim it.
Listen to the full episode on the Beyond the Red House podcast wherever you get your podcasts.
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