While I wrote those early chapters, I knew I still hadn’t found my starting point, but I kept writing. Momentum increased. I was getting words on the page. My early manuscript was taking shape. I knew the perfect, or at least most appropriate beginning, would reveal itself to me.

Soon, my chapters looked less like the resume I’d started with (think boring lists of events I’d endured) and more like a revelation. I was still teaching those political spouses, my future readers, but my stories were becoming revelations that other readers would also relate to.

Memoir isn’t a straight line. It’s a spiral. We move forward, circle back, dive deeper, rise again. Start where the ground shook. Then let the echoes guide your structure.

At first, I thought, Who would care about my story? But here’s what surprised me: people did. My book found its way into the hands of men and women, students and retirees, even other politicians. Readers connected not because my life was glamorous, but because I was honest about my journey. And four years later, I’m still selling books and giving interviews.

For almost 33 years, I’ve shared my life with a man who speaks faith in a language different from my own. He is Jewish. I am Catholic. Our whirlwind courtship after meeting at a beach bar had us talking about marriage within 6 months of dating. We quickly acknowledged our religious differences, and we committed to forging a path toward understand and respect of each other’s religions.

Writing your memoir can be one of the most generous acts of your life. Discover why personal storytelling matters and 10 tips to write generously.

Memoir is a gift you give others, even if you write it for yourself. It's a mirror, a message, and a map for someone else to follow. Your lived experience can be someone else's life raft.

I was good at writing others’ stories - making their cases - whether for advocacy, funding, or recognition. But to turn the tables, look in the mirror and inward? That was a challenge that morphed into a gift, for it taught me to value my experiences enough to share them so that they may help, inspire, or simply entertain.

Even when the writing is messy… especially when the writing is messy… you are showing up for yourself. You are practicing courage. And you are validating your truth in a world that doesn’t always do that for you.

When you share your story, you are not just writing words on a page.

You are flapping your wings.

You are releasing something sacred into the world—and you have no idea where it will land, or who it will touch.

Overthinking is the enemy of every aspiring memoirist. We convince ourselves we’re not ready. We stall. We research. We organize our sticky notes into color-coded chaos. And we never write a word. You don’t need more overthinking. You need a memoir blueprint.

Whether you’re navigating writer’s block, imposter syndrome, or the fear of being “too much,” these relatable TV metaphors offer powerful lessons to help you write your truth and move your memoir forward.

You think, Who am I to write a memoir? Imposter syndrome whispers that your story isn’t compelling enough. But here’s the truth: Memoir is about connection, not perfection. Your unique life experiences will resonate with someone who needs to hear them.