Radically Own Your Story (Why and How You Must)

On memoir, memory, and why your version still matter: personal storytelling as an act of healing, connection, and quiet rebellion. Why it’s hard—and why we do it anyway.

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One of the most important things you can do is radically own your narrative.

As put by psychologist and author Maureen Murdock:

“When you write your memoir, you will understand, perhaps for the first time, the significance of your life through the language, images, and emotions you craft from the memory.”

Yet, people may challenge your story.

We see it more often with women, especially when they’re sharing uncomfortable truths. From societal gaslighting to genuine differences in perception, telling your story can invite pushback.

You might be challenged to second-guess it, or quiet your voice.

Here’s why you should still write.

Credit: Darius Bashar on Unsplash


The Meaning of Truth-Telling

“Memoirists are our contemporary mythmakers.”
—Maureen Murdock

Memoir isn’t a linear autobiography of an entire life.

In Murdock’s words: it’s a chosen slice, written from your point of view. Perfect recall isn’t the point. What matters is the emotional truth:

“Memoir is not about perfect accuracy of the remembered event; it’s more about finding perspective and making meaning of that particular slice of one’s life. The struggle for emotional truth is central to memoir.”

With over forty years of experience (and a rolodex of books in her background), Murdock explains that people will challenge your story. That’s expected. When writing about their childhood memories, some people hear their siblings say things like: “that didn’t happen”, or “it didn’t happen that way.”

They’re not necessarily wrong: that may be their truth. But yours still matters.

It is your story. And it is yours to tell.

“In writing memoir, you are writing about yourself, probably in the first person, and the tale you are telling is about your life.”

In writing memoir, the writer seeks to make meaning of their life through self-reflection. Memoir blends personal perceptions and universal truth.

On Fearless Storytelling

“I bet you think about me when you say
‘Oh my god, she’s insane, she wrote a song about me.’”
—Taylor Swift, “I Bet You Think About Me”

The queen of narrative ownership is Taylor Swift. Like her or not, she’s done something neither of us have (unless you’re Stevie Nicks or a billionaire).

She owns her narrative. Radically.

For instance, we don’t know if Jack actually kept her scarf.

Or if he did because it reminded him of innocence and smelled like her.

We also don’t know if he thinks about her.

But she bets he does.

And it’s not that we necessarily believe her, but it resonates.

While Taylor may go deeper into mind-reading than most memoirists, her bold perspective strikes as true. She retells the stories of her life and lost loves. We follow her narrative as she documents it in lyrics, makes sense of it, and heals as she goes. In a kind of Shakespearean fashion, she writes about the universal human tragedies we all relate to. But in this case, she is the main character AND the writer.

We wish we had the bravery to claim our truths the way she does.

In sharing Taylor’s Version of her life stories, she’s fearless (all inside jokes intended).

And that boldness is attractive: regardless of how many people challenge her own accounts and memories.

When you radically own your narrative, you will find people who want to hear it and see themselves reflected and empowered by you.

In an even more relevant tangent, that’s the case of several abuse survivors who chose to share their narrative—for reference, see Chanel Miller’s Know My Name: A Memoir. They faced backlash but persisted anyway, paving the path for hundreds of other women who had suffered in silence to identify with their stories and finally release guilt and shame. That’s the backbone of the #metoo movement.

Quoting Maureen Murdock again:

“Memoir offers the writer, and at times the reader, catharsis, new insights, rediscovery, and healing. When we tell our story and tell it well, in a way that reflects the universal experience of being human, we become a part of each other.”

It’s Hard. So Why Do We Still Write?

“Vulnerability is our most accurate measure of courage.”
—Brené Brown, The Power of Vulnerability

You become that character people root for not because you’re flawless, but because you’re real. Flaws, shortfalls, all of it.

Vulnerability is attractive. It’s what makes you relatable. Magnetic.

That’s the true source of confidence.

Brené Brown, a researcher and storyteller, explains the Latin origin of the word “courage”—from cour, meaning heart. Courage, then, means “an act of the heart.” In Brown’s interpretation, it translates to:

“Share your story with your whole heart.”

Telling your story is a brave act, and there are many reasons why people do it.

We write to remember, relive, reclaim.
To make sense between past and future.
To heal, find closure, or seek justice.

But ultimately, sharing your story is an act of care towards yourself and others.

When you tell your story, you become a lighthouse to others who may resonate with it.

Others whose experiences might be seen and reflected in yours.

Through your words, they may find sympathy, compassion, humor, commiseration, or even a clear path forward. There are people out there who want to—need to—find you.

In sharing your life, you become a lighthouse for the ones who matter.

If this resonates with your current season, I’d love to meet you.

Let’s connect over shared journeys. ❤️

Message Laís de Oliveira

Coming up next:

In my next article, we’ll explore how the biggest marker of “shared identity” is actually shared journeys—and how mapping a Venn diagram of lived experiences can help you understand both yourself and the community you're meant to build.

✨ Gentle Plug:

If you liked this piece, I have two invitations for you:

1. Join our memoir writing circle
A monthly gathering for people willing to venture into the art of personal storytelling: whether as memoir, essay, or whatever form fits you.

Through guided prompts and peer feedback, we explore the power of voice, memory, and perspective to craft stories that resonate. A safe space for self-expression and character development with built-in accountability to keep you moving forward.

2. For a full journey: Join the Clarity Journey
This includes the memoir circle and more: a 3-month story-led journey to reclaim your voice, craft your narrative, and build something lasting from it—including a village. Outcomes:

✨ Inner clarity

✨ Reclaimed confidence

✨ A small-batch community (aka your personal brand council)

Concrete takeaways: a personal brand strategy, content plan, or even a memoir-worthy piece that becomes your lighthouse.


Originally posted on Substack

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