Twenty five years ago I left my husband and initiated an unpleasant divorce. While it was happening, and for several years afterwards, I was conscious that I told everyone 'My Story'...my version of events, putting myself in the centre. I related anecdotes that did not put me in a good light at all, but I did so to amuse and win sympathy. And it became a truth, but it didn't help me feel better about myself, or understand why I had really done it. Then I met the man who is now my husband, and the first time we sat in a pub and he asked me to tell the story, I did something I had never done before: I deliberately tried to tell it from my ex's point of view. It was probably still a manipulation, but it seemed important to have a stab at honesty.
Katie, what you write is very powerful and takes me back twenty years. I've just finished reading Strout's Oh William, and she says we are all mythologies, mysterious: ' this may be the only thing in the world I know to be true'...
Strout is such a great writer. She is excellent at the day to day stuff that becomes the profoundest means of insight. Thank you for your story. I'm honoured x
This resonates deeply with me, especially the qualifying of personal truth. I will have to read Maggie’s book as it sounds like it holds things I need to experience too.
Oh, this: "When I talk to my therapist about something that has happened, I think about the fact that other people who are involved will have a different story to tell about it. I often have to resist the idea that I need to qualify certain statements or stories by acknowledging that I am biased, or that I may be wrong or that I know ‘x’ will see this differently. I sometimes worry that I am lying and that I will be caught out."
It's why (I think, partly) I haven't seen my therapist since before Christmas. I feel I'm screaming/sobbing into a void and nothing makes any sense. I wonder if it's even meant to?
I am not always sure it needs to make sense. Sometimes these things just need to exist outside of us so we can make room for the possibility that things could be different. xx
Twenty five years ago I left my husband and initiated an unpleasant divorce. While it was happening, and for several years afterwards, I was conscious that I told everyone 'My Story'...my version of events, putting myself in the centre. I related anecdotes that did not put me in a good light at all, but I did so to amuse and win sympathy. And it became a truth, but it didn't help me feel better about myself, or understand why I had really done it. Then I met the man who is now my husband, and the first time we sat in a pub and he asked me to tell the story, I did something I had never done before: I deliberately tried to tell it from my ex's point of view. It was probably still a manipulation, but it seemed important to have a stab at honesty.
Katie, what you write is very powerful and takes me back twenty years. I've just finished reading Strout's Oh William, and she says we are all mythologies, mysterious: ' this may be the only thing in the world I know to be true'...
Strout is such a great writer. She is excellent at the day to day stuff that becomes the profoundest means of insight. Thank you for your story. I'm honoured x
I have this book sitting in my to read pile... it has just moved its way almost to the top ☺️
Almost!
What a beautiful piece. I savoured every word of this, Katy, it's wonderful writing.
Thank you. x
This resonates deeply with me, especially the qualifying of personal truth. I will have to read Maggie’s book as it sounds like it holds things I need to experience too.
I would be keen to know what you think. x
Oh, this: "When I talk to my therapist about something that has happened, I think about the fact that other people who are involved will have a different story to tell about it. I often have to resist the idea that I need to qualify certain statements or stories by acknowledging that I am biased, or that I may be wrong or that I know ‘x’ will see this differently. I sometimes worry that I am lying and that I will be caught out."
It's why (I think, partly) I haven't seen my therapist since before Christmas. I feel I'm screaming/sobbing into a void and nothing makes any sense. I wonder if it's even meant to?
I am not always sure it needs to make sense. Sometimes these things just need to exist outside of us so we can make room for the possibility that things could be different. xx
Oh I loved her book too, thank you for this ❤️
You're welcome. x
Emotional alchemy...I love this. And true <> real, but yet it might be... Thank you for sharing this experience.
It might. xx
Katy, this is a superb piece of writing 👏👏👏