All the parts I let you see
On messy stories, trauma dumping + the full-fat version of you
“Sometimes, I think you get the worst
of me….I’d like to say this means
I love you”
From Love Poem With Apologies For My Appearance
Ada Limon, US Poet Laureate
Hi friend,
I’ve been thinking about the way we show ourselves lately.
In our businesses. Work. Marketing. (Also, life).
About how we become used to a certain level of comfort in what we share as leaders and founders. All the glossy launches and gatherings we’re happy to share online. The nominations. Panel talks. Thos highlight reels that feel BRIGHT AND EASY TO SHARE.What are we hiding when we stay behind a veneer of constant success?
In the Season of Stuckness, I know it’s been hard for lots of us to show up in a way we comfortable with.
We’re so deeply aware of deep human suffering happening in the world, almost every sentence is caveated with “I know there are bigger things going on but…”
We hide ourselves behind fear of judgement and criticism from The Whole World. And that inner wall of “What will everyone think?”
I honestly thought I was having a panic attack before publishing my first personal essay a few weeks ago.
And my dear friend, Lucy Werner, asked me to sense-check her latest gorgeous piece, asking “Is it a lot?”
Yes, babe. Because life’s a lot.
Please note: we’re both in PR. We both struggle with letting ourselves be seen.
Whole messy stories
At a time of terrifying censorship and algorithms siphoning our content, we need whole human stories.
The messy bits.
The uncomfortable bits.
The ones we’re in the middle of.
Where our hero’s journey is still in the departure lounge.
We need the full-fat version of you.
But what about trauma-dumping?
Because I hang out on LinkedIn a lot, I’ve noticed a trend of founder/ entrepreneur/ exec “trauma dumping.”
Like a storytelling masterclass at Google gone wrong.
I’m not suggesting you use your content as an emotional sickbag.
Or a poorly reverse-engineered origin story. This brand of content - using someone else’s cancer story to push a service was a recent favourite - is ego-led.
We want stories rooted in empathy.
That engage, create an emotional touchpoint your reader and customer can respond to. That expand connection. In invitation to your community to share their story too.
Show yourself
How do you know which stories to share? What are the parts of you you’re happy to reveal on LinkedIn? Go deep on in a newsletter? Use as a hook for a media or podcast pitch? In a way that keeps your personal brand authentic?
If you’ve been here a while, you’ll know my epiphany story at a David Hieatt newsletter course right before lockdown. Chatting to this gorgeous, slightly wild man about my writing frustrations, he said two words: “Show yourself.”
I still have the notebook.
Here’s some ways we can try this:
Set a clear intention - What’s the purpose of your story or article or post? Are you clear on what you want your content to do once you’ve set it free into the wilds of LinkedIn or Mailchimp.
Connect? Engage? Build relationships? Set a clear intention before passing “Go.”A story that serves – This is the bit the trauma dumping tech bros forget: how does your story serve?
Does it educate? Does it entertain? Help your audience feel seen, maybe even understood and less alone? Does it inspire? I love that moment of recognition in other people’s content. Or when a post makes me think “Maybe I can do that too”.
Write from the scar, not the wound – This is a London Writer’s Salon favourite. And a great litmus test for really being ready to share something that feels vulnerable or shaky. Are you writing from the scar or the wound? Give yourself emotional distance from anything that feels too raw, too open still. Allow some processing. Scar tissue is tougher than normal skin.
Know your boundaries - I have a bunch of topics I won’t go anywhere near.
And because I’m super-clear on those, I feel safe with the subjects I can talk about forever (off the top of my head: thought leadership, writing for business, poetry, the life and works of George Michael).A tip I got from a writing workshop is to start with this list:
Things I want to write* about are…
Things I won’t write* about are…
See what happens. And how the lists change.*also create content/ talk about/ post on
Let me know how you feel about being more seen. And what holds you back.
Comments below are open and if you’re not a Substack-er yet, just hit reply.
Back next with a Creative Caffeine hit for March(!)
With love,
Antonia
Love this so much and it helps me make sense of what I’m figuring out in real time… I’ve done an audio recording on the theme of transitions for Laura’s challenge and scheduled it for Sunday but I just don’t know if I want to publish it… I’ve given myself some space inbetween. It’s not confessional it’s just real life but a lot of what’s real is hidden from view consciously because it’s too exhausting to live there and see it reflected back - does that make sense?! Thanks for writing this. Delighted to be on this journey with you. ✨✨
Thank you for writing this! I remember reading, I think it was in Mary Karr's memoir about writing that if you're still crying while you write about something, it's too raw, too soon, too unprocessed. I like thinking about it like writing from the scar not the wound, because scars are tougher. And I love this, "Where our hero’s journey is still in the departure lounge." And thank you thank for the idea (permission) to have a list of things we are NOT going to write about and the idea that that list might change. I see this thing happening in some writing/podcasts/instagram posts that I call performative vulnerability, which I think is very similar to trauma dumping, where it really feels like the author of the content is sharing something vulnerable as a marketing or other manipulative ploy and it really bothers me. It helps me take a step back and see if what I'm thinking about sharing is, like you said, serving others, or just serving my need to process.