Memoir or Personal Diary?
- Kellie Adams
- Jan 28
- 2 min read
The Power of Raw Truth in Storytelling

"I felt as if I was reading your personal diary/journal – which made me a bit uncomfortable."
This response is not unusual when people encounter deeply personal narratives, especially those that dive headfirst into addiction, recovery, and the unfiltered truths of life. The sentiment behind the comment is understandable—memoirs, by nature, are deeply personal. A reader may ask, " is this a memoir or personal diary? They are, in many ways, diaries made public.
What is the goal?
But that is the heart of memoir writing. It is not meant to be polished fiction or a detached examination of life's struggles. It is intended to be real—raw, vulnerable, and sometimes awkward. The goal is not to create distance but to close the gap between the writer's experience and the reader's understanding.
For those who have not faced addiction, the discomfort may emanate from the stark honesty, the exposure of wounds, the cluttered thoughts of an addicted mind, or the relentless pursuit of sobriety when the odds feel unconquerable. But this kind of storytelling is more than just catharsis for those who have been there—who have fought for their lives and felt sheltered in their struggles. It is a connection. It is recognition. It is hope.
The mission behind this memoir is not to deliver a neatly packaged, feel-good story. It is to recover out loud so that others don't suffer in silence. It is to reveal the messiness of addiction, the shame, the self-destruction—but also the resilience, the moments of clarity, and the conquest of choosing life over oblivion.
The valid reaction of reading a memoir or personal diary
Discomfort is real in addiction. For many, it is day-to-day survival in a world that doesn't always understand. Those who have never wandered this road may feel disturbed by an unfiltered life laid bare. But that is the expense of honesty. Memoirs do not exist to make readers comfortable—they exist to make them feel, challenge and offer hope.
And to the reader who left this comment—thank you. Your honesty permits me to respond with grace and continued authenticity. Writing a memoir means choosing to lay it all out, understanding that not everyone will resonate with the rawness. And that's okay. I don't write to make people comfortable—I write to tell the truth. And if that truth makes someone stop, think, and feel—even if it's discomfort—then I've done my job.
Comments