What counts as a memoir? More than you think.
“I want to tell my story, but… I don’t have enough for a memoir.” Yeah, I hear that a lot. And to that I say: My dear, you ABSOLUTELY do!
Let’s back up for a second and clear something up: Memoir doesn’t mean writing a 400-page autobiography from the day you were born to last Tuesday. (Unless you want to do that. Then I’ll happily hold your hand and help you write every glorious word.)
But no, a memoir doesn’t have to be “everything.” It just has to be something true.
So… what actually IS a memoir?
Memoir is simply a story from your life, told with heart and meaning. That’s it. It can be:
A chapter of your life that shaped you
A collection of vignettes and reflections
A single letter to someone you love
A series of memories that thread together like pearls on a string
Memoir can be 200 pages or two pages. What matters isn’t the length. It’s the truth you’re sharing and why it matters to you.
What memoir isn’t…
Memoir is not:
A confession booth
A chronological list of everything that’s ever happened to you
A writing contest
Only for celebrities, trauma survivors, or people who climbed Everest barefoot
Your life, in all its quiet, messy, miraculous, deeply human moments, is more than enough.
If you’ve lived through love, loss, growth, reinvention, motherhood, menopause, or anything that made you stop and say, “Well, that changed me,” you have memoir material.
You get to choose what you share.
This is your story. You decide what parts to tell and what to keep for yourself. Some of my clients write about their careers. Others reflect on parenting. Some write letters to their future grandchildren. Others focus on one pivotal moment that split life into “before” and “after.”
There’s no wrong way to do this. The only mistake is thinking your story doesn’t count.
You don’t have to write a book to share your story.
I’ve said this ad nauseum, but that’s because it’s so important: You don’t have to write a book. You can start with:
One memory that won’t leave you alone
One letter to someone you love
One story you always find yourself telling at dinner parties
That’s memoir. That counts.
And if all you do is get that story down, even if it’s messy and emotional and unfinished, that still matters. Because it’s yours.
You get to share what’s worth remembering.
That’s the secret gift of memoir: it’s not just about being read. It’s about remembering yourself —the woman you’ve been, the wisdom you’ve earned, the things you survived, and the light you still carry.
So if you’ve been waiting until your story felt “big enough” or “worth telling,” I want you to hear this: It already is. Because it’s yours. And that’s enough.
And if you’d like someone to walk with you while you tell it, whether it’s a page, a chapter, or something more, I’d be honored to help you begin.
