I just finished a ten-week memoir writing class. On the final session, we submitted our work to a small group for discussion.
But we really did more than that. We opened ourselves up for scrutiny in a way that doesn’t often happen in midlife.
We didn’t just share our work; we shared our stories—our real stories.
At our core, we all asked versions of the same question:
Who am I, and how did I become this person?
On the surface, we had little in common. Different ages, backgrounds, genders, and life experiences. Yet, as I read and discussed each piece, I found myself offering the same note.
“I relate to the universal truth of your story.”
Our works shared a search for identity, belonging, family.
Trying to reconcile and make peace with our past so we could move forward.
Searching for forgiveness.
From ourselves.
For being human.
Imperfect.
I know what it feels like to question my identity,
to wonder where I belong,
to grieve deeply,
to carry old wounds into new chapters.
And so did everyone else in the group.
That realization reminded me of one of the great paradoxes of growth and change. The more we dare to look at the truth inside ourselves, the more we see the truth in others.
And the kinder we can be to both.
I know I’m not alone when I think that healing is a solitary journey.
It doesn’t have to be.
There’s something powerful hearing another person's story and recognizing yourself in it.
Not because our lives are the same.
Because our humanity is.
For most of my life I observed more than I belonged. Ten schools before tenth grade taught me how to enter a room, read it and adapt. My career, psychology degrees, and certificates in coaching taught me to guide others through change.
None of that taught me how to sit with myself—to be a part of a learning community.
In this life chapter, I'm learning that one of my deepest needs is to become a part of something.
A family.
A neighborhood.
A faith community.
A recovery group.
A writing workshop.
In this course, I learned that listening to people reveal their most personal stories, as a fellow traveler—on an equal level—can reveal the truth that connects us all.
Our experiences are unique, but our struggles are not.
Maybe that's the hidden gift of community. When we recognize ourselves in someone else's story, we find common ground.
We become more a part of and less apart from.
— Mark Wigginton
Midlife Guide | Next Chapter Navigator
📬 MarkW@FocusingOnResults.com
🌐 www.focusingonresults.com
🔗 Connect with me on LinkedIn
P.S. If this message resonated with you, it might speak to someone else too. Forward it to a friend who’s ready for their next chapter—you never know what kind of shift a few words of encouragement can spark.
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