Breaking Free of the Original Wound

Recently, at a book signing for my new novel, We Did This Once Before, I spoke of the concept of the Original Wound. The women in my audience, all in the second half of life, understood. We had a good discussion. But one woman caught up with me afterwards.

Gazing into the middle distance, struggling to contain her emotions, she said she had never thought of her life in such terms, but now, it explained everything. She didn’t sound happy, and she didn’t intend to change anything, but at least now she understood.

“May I ask your age?” I said.

“Eighty-six.”

This good person was almost ninety and she was only now learning what drove her.

The original wound, in fiction, is when a character is stuck because they keep doing something that’s holding them back–in love, in career, in finding happiness. The thing they’re doing is based in an old survival strategy from the past. For example, a fiancé left at the altar can never trust again.

Here’s another example, taken from a recent Miss Manners. A woman wrote:

“My husband grew up in an unhappy home and came up with all kinds of strategies to stay out of trouble. Like, he has this odd way of answering a yes/no question with a word that could go either way. Plus, he can never be wrong…”

Clearly, the husband, when a boy, learned to be shifty to avoid punishment. Now, in adulthood, he can never be pinned down. Something that helped him when a child is hurting his adult relationships.

The joy of reading (and writing) novels is in seeing the character overcome that original wound and find happiness.

In my own case, my rough childhood made me grow up fast. Vowing never to be dependent and helpless, I went to work early, and now in my late sixties, am still quite driven. While I love working, I continue to live out my original wound. Fortunately, I truly enjoy helping my characters overcome their challenges, and in so doing, perhaps provide therapy for myself.