Whatever it is, use it.

Have you ever read a book or watched a show that pierced you to the heart? It’s like someone has already walked in your abyss and lived to tell about it. That connection can be healing and encouraging, and you might even marvel that, of all the places, this is where you found equilibrium. 

One of my most potent experiences like this came in grad school. I was watching a Korean Drama of all things, actually my first one ever. I was unfamiliar with the Korean Wave, but it suddenly gutted me with a story of a young woman who had been kicked around by society. I was surprised that some unknown-to-me Korean writer was teaching me how to human again. I’ve since learned that Korean content can overkill emotional angles, but in this instance the writers beautifully guided their character to freedom—and me along with her. I’m still grateful for that. 

Our human experience is meant to be shared. Our culture does this poorly, to the point that young people are imploding in their anxiety without internal guidance on how they got there or how to navigate themselves out. Many people in our current climate have limited relational resources to mirror and normalize in stressful situations. It’s sad and gives me compassion for those who’ve been lost in the devices of our time. 

While it’s not the reason I write, I use my own experiences to guide my readers through tricky emotions. That character they’re following feels cut off from the world. What’s that like? What kinds of despair have I felt in their situation and how was I drawn out of it? If I’ve ever felt it, experienced it, wondered about it, I will use it to deepen the emotional landscape of my writing. And then I will take the lessons I’ve learned and the tools that helped me cope to lead my characters out of it. In the process I hope my young readers can mirror and normalize their own experiences.  

I hope you don’t mind one final illustration. Last weekend I watched Netflix’s documentary series on David Beckham. By the end of the last episode, I felt a lot of sorrow and compassion for David and his family. We see the fame and success, but David experienced broken dreams, rejection, turmoil, and depression that served as a backdrop to everything else. The ending didn’t feel awesome. It shows David’s happy family, but it’s colored by the loss of his purpose and career aspirations. 

I don’t know David’s internal landscape, but as a Christian I wonder if he sees age as a step closer to eternal riches in glory. All that is lost will be added back one day, and in the meantime we enjoy what God has added to our lives. It’s not perfect—yet. But it will be perfect soon. And how might I somehow demonstrate this to a follower of his story? 

What unique thing have you experienced? Have you lost a parent or sibling in your youth? Are you able to guide others through that trauma from your vantage point as an adult? Maybe you’ve sailed to the pinnacles of success only to realize that it only deepened your need for hope. Can you teach that through your characters?

Whatever it is, use it. We all need it.