Two weeks ago, I read Melania Trump’s self-titled memoir.
I love memoirs, and have much curiosity about people’s inner lives. What are they noticing? What’s their narration about their lives? What’s within their nervous system’s capacity? Which primary lenses do they seem to look through? What feels safe/easy in their body, and what is challenging for this person? What was the culture like where they grew up — both in their town and family of origin? It’s the unseen I’m most eager to learn about folks: their emotions, doubts, stories, beliefs, fears, joys, spiritual connections, and sensations.
From my own experience, I know that how things may appear to onlookers from the outside is not at all what living in my body with my soul feels like to me, on the inside. And, I also know that a memoir is only a sliver of someone’s experience. So much needs to be cut out to craft a narrative within a single book, not to mention all of the felt experiences which can’t be put to words. A book is a static entity, while authors keep experiencing and changing. The whole human-being thing. (I feel much restriction in my body knowing all that isn’t expressed in this very piece of writing! And, an article is not a person. A book is not a person. An interview is not a person. A song is not a person.)
Yet a sliver of someone’s experiences in their own words is wider and closer to truth than an onlooker’s external observations. As such, I was eager to hear about Melania’s life from Melania herself. Read more
