The Tell: A Memoir

He was so forthright and so clear. I had never heard him share this truth publicly. I studied him, wondering why the party line had changed, and so dramatically. It was a reminder that multiple stories could be true at the same time, that we select our narratives in accordance with how honest we want to be and how honest we can be with ourselves.

Remembering was so hard, but now I understood why we did it—why it was worth remembering at all. It wasn’t so we could wallow in the pain. It was so we could more fully touch the joy.

It was a reminder that multiple stories could be true at the same time, that we select our narratives in accordance with how honest we want to be and how honest we can be with ourselves.

Memory is a sieve that catches only the most important moments. The insignificant details of daily life don’t stick; instead, they flow through the sieve. Then there are experiences that are unusual, set apart from the everyday, that carry an emotional charge. These we often hold on to, turning them over and over.

I was learning how to be self-sufficient, and in being self-sufficient, I would be safe.

We have to make the unconscious conscious, or it will direct our life and we will call it fate.

There was an essential me that no abuse could ever harm. The me before I felt that I had to be perfect. The me before I felt shame. The me that wanted to be kind, not as a distraction of what was happening to me, but simply because it was the purest expression of love I knew. All of that was always within me. That was what I had to remember.

Women are always doing things so we can be better for other people. My relationships had changed for the better, but I didn’t do it for anyone else. I did it for me.

The secret was so big I could not ignore it, and yet the size of it made it impossible to see.

There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors.

Perfect—the way every parent loves their child, not for anything they’ve done but just for being who they are.

But I understood that it was only through the telling that I had set myself free.

Even if facing it is hard, it’s also so important. I thought of this as something I was running from. But in running from that, I was also running from the best things this life has to offer—freedom and happiness and real relationships with the people around me. You can’t have light without the darkness. You have to feel all of it in order to feel any of it.

The day of the session, she sat across from me on the couch. “I’m hoping this brings you more resolution,” she said in her gentle, accented voice. “Remember to be compassionate with yourself. You don’t have to go in looking for anything. What you need to know, you’ll find.” I nodded. “One reason we do this work is so we can face whatever it is that we need to face,” she said. “So we can live with what we’ve been through, instead of living from it.

It was like my body knew something that I didn’t.

I don’t understand why I was given an award for being kind to someone. I mean, isn’t that what you are supposed to do?” —Amy, circa 7th grade

Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. The same was true of me.

Remember to put your feet on the ground and just breathe. There’s nothing you can’t do today.

The earthworm feels small and insignificant, but it’s an important part of the web of life.

It can be hard to see the big picture, especially when you are down in the dirt,

the way people say something can suddenly dawn on you, as if I’d had the corner pieces assembled but not the full contents of the puzzle, and I had turned a little pile of cardboard fragments into a clear picture for the first time.

freshest salad I’d ever tasted, made with mango, corn, and avocado; it was sweet and salty.

Nothing in life is free. Everything has a cost.

Perfection is a lonely pursuit.

I ran because I was afraid of what I would feel if I sat still. —

was taught to prioritize the comfort of others and not to share anything overly personal. But I have learned that the more I tell my

My mother modeled kindness and my father modeled achievement.

It’s only a car. Cars can be fixed. I’m just glad you’re all right.

Yes, there was a place for convenience. But not everything needed to sit tidily on a shelf. Some things were messy, difficult, or impossible to contain. Some things defied easy categorization. What happened to me when I was a girl was all of those things. It didn't fit neatly in a box. But I had to accept it - no matter how inconvenient it was.