“See this? I wrote this piece two years ago, after my parents died. I was angry. I was hurt. I wrote down exactly what I was feeling. When I read it now, I don't share those same feelings. Do I regret writing it? No. Because there's a chance that someone in this very room may relate to this. It might mean something to them.”
In this powerful quote, Colleen Hoover reflects on her journey of grief and the cathartic process of writing, emphasizing the evolving nature of emotions and the potential impact of sharing personal experiences.
Hoover begins by situating her writing within a specific context—the death of her parents—which establishes a profound emotional backdrop. Her admission of anger and hurt highlights the raw intensity of her feelings at that time. This sets the stage for understanding her initial motivations for writing: a need to process and articulate her pain.
As she revisits her past piece, she notes a significant shift in her feelings, indicating personal growth and healing. This acknowledgment demonstrates an important aspect of emotional resilience: the ability to evolve beyond one’s immediate feelings. It underscores the human experience of change and the notion that emotions are often transient.
Importantly, Hoover addresses the value of her written words, despite no longer sharing the same emotional state. Her belief that her writing might resonate with someone else showcases the interconnectedness of human experiences. It speaks to the purpose of sharing one’s story—offering solace, understanding, or validation to others who may be navigating similar feelings.
In conclusion, this quote encapsulates the journey from grief to healing, the importance of authenticity in writing, and the potential for empathy and connection through shared experiences. Hoover’s reflections serve as a reminder of the enduring impact of art and expression in bridging personal and collective narratives.
“So what if the heartaches you wrote last year isn't what you're feeling today. it may be exactly what the person in the front row is feeling. What you're feeling now, and the person you may reach with your words five years from now- that's why you write poetry.”
“Someone asked them a question about their poetry, and whether it was hard having to relive their words each time they performed. Their reply was that although they had moved beyond that--from the person or event that inspired their words at that point in time--it doesn't mean someone listening to them wasn't in that. So? So what if heartache you wrote last year isn't what you're feeling today. It may be exactly what the person in the front row is feeling. What you're feeling now, and the person you may reach with your words five years from now--that's why you write poetry.”
“All I ever feel like doing is sleeping. I guess because it doesn't hurt as bad when you're asleep.”
“Whatever he goes through, I feel. Whatever I go through, he feels. It’s what happens when two people become one: they no longer only share love. They also share all of the pain, heartache, sorrow, and grief.”
“I want you to keep them open...because I need you to watch me give you the very last piece of my heart.”
“I feel vulnerable. I I try to mask my emotions, but I feel like everyone knows what I’m thinking and feeling, and I don’t like it. I don’t like being an open book. I feel like I’m up on the stage, pouring my heart out to him, and it scares the hell out of me.”