“Until the lion learns to write, every story will glorify the hunter.” – African Proverb

The desire to lay a platform upon which women can find their voice, to ask for what they need and share the stories that (re)define them, is a passion I share with PowHERHouse. It is the impetus behind my own socially-conscious organization. Named Her Story, my company provides the tools women need to publish stories. It is the impetus behind this new series, to be featured here in coming issues, that provides a platform for women to share their stories and their power with others. We will interview women who are working to use their voice to re-shape this world, women who are each day engaged in the radical act of storytelling (in some form) that re-writes the hunter-lion narrative.

PowHERful women who need us to hear them. First, I need you to hear me.

/ˈstôrē/

“An account of imaginary or real people and events told for entertainment.”

“An account of past events in someone’s life or in the evolution of something.”

I believe stories hold unique purpose in our lives: not only do they entertain, such as when we recount a funny thing that happened or the interaction of imaginary people, but they provoke thought, carry ideology and pass along cultural values. In the traditions of the First Nations people, storytelling is the foundation for learning: cultural beliefs and values, history and ways of life are passed down through story.

Storytelling can also be a radical act, such as when marginalized groups use storytelling to share their experiences with the world. When we re-tell we attempt to normalize our experience; in sharing we lift the veil off of the deepest parts of ourselves, and our world, which others may otherwise wish we’d conceal. It can be both a making and an unmaking of ourselves as we come into our own voice and begin to share with the world the power within ourselves, and the power to move others out of ignorance, toward change, with what we have to say.

Have you ever considered that there is a story inside of you? Have you ever considered that telling it is a radical act? It is a radical act of generosity to yourself, giving yourself the space and freedom to let go of what is inside of you. It is also a radical act of generosity to the world.

If your life is a story, tell us about chapter one.

Surprisingly, I don’t feel like going back to the beginning. I could say: “I was born in a small town in Northern Ontario, which I left at the age of eight.” I might start in those impressionable years when I first discovered I had clear values and beliefs that set me apart from others. But I like to think of NOW as Chapter One, perhaps in a sequel. I only now feel like I am growing into my own. I think every other chapter in my life has been about someone else: my parents, my friends, my teachers…certainly in terms of what they wanted of me. I have people who need me (three young kids, a husband) but I feel I am finally the one with the pen, writing what I want to say and be.

Is there a defining moment in your life when you feel you found your voice?

After the birth of my first child, I became very ill from anxiety and depression. That first year of his life was very dark for me, as I experienced things I never thought I would, including hospitalization. There were a lot of mixed-up feelings happening, and I remember experiencing the ultimate brain fog. Yet, I felt a strong need to make sense of it all. For me, writing has always brought clarity. As a Masters student I tackled complex theory by writing my way through it; as a copywriter I wrote my way through “why you should buy” and as a woman suffering from mental illness I made sense of my journey by writing.

Instead of feeling like I was given a really bad hand, I believe what I experienced, and continue to experience, is a kind-of brilliance that I can learn from and help others to learn from too. In a sense, I think this is where my voice is. Certainly in telling my story, and having others thank me for my bravery, I have found more power and strength. If I keep silent, I let others tell the story for me. I let them define me as “sick,” “crazy,” “unstable or worse “a bad mother.” I tell my own story and am able to call this “brilliance” instead of “sadness” and my struggle as “normal” and “okay.”

What does it mean to be a powerful woman?

I don’t always think of myself as a powerful woman. Right now I am wondering what you think of me. To me, these insecurities mean weakness; when I look in the mirror I don’t think “Wow, that’s a great and powerful woman.” And yet I know, deep inside, that even the sides of me that make me soft and yielding are part of my power.

I give to people a lot. To some, giving all the time might look like putting others first. Sometimes it is, and in those times I learn. But often it is wholly a selfish act. In helping other women find their power, I am actually helping myself to my own power. I am accessing the opportunity to change the world, one small act at a time. My father used to say to me, “You can be anything you want in this world.” I agree, but I also believe: “This world can be any place you want it to be.” I want to be at the front lines of that change. I need more women to join me. I think just writing that ASK…that is power.

What’s your story?