Too many memoirists skip or gloss over struggles inherent in recovering from abuse—going right from a depth of gory detail to a pinnacle of glorious overcoming. Beverly Engel expertly fills the gap between the experience of trauma and survival of it with moving, relatable accounts of her struggles. Although many of her experiences are heartrending, Engel writes with balance, injecting the right amount of detail to illustrate the circumstances without overwhelming the reader or minimizing the horrible situations she endured.
Yes, Engel is an accomplished author and psychotherapist who dreamed, set goals, and achieved great things. Yet in Raising Myself, she deftly weaves successes and struggles in a way that offers hope to those still on the journey of healing from their own abuse. You will laugh with her, cry with her, and wish there were more at the end.
Beverly Engel is a great storyteller; the memoir has the feel of a novel partly because the characters are so vividly portrayed. The story is real, the protagonist relatable, the writing superb. Having had a neglectful mother, I so identify with what Engel wrote, “I went outside and sat in my sandbox, letting the still-warm sand cradle me”. Those who have suffered abuse or neglect will glean insight from her experiences and find comfort that they are not alone. Readers who know people who were abused – people on what Engel calls “the six paths of trauma,” eg addiction, crime, etc. – will better understand those survivors. Great read, highly recommend, can’t wait for part two!