After almost every storytelling workshop I teach, someone asks a version of the same question:
“That’s all great, but… how much of my story am I supposed to share?”
There are usually a few reasons that people ask this question.
- They see others getting extremely vulnerable on the Internets, and don’t feel comfortable baring every detail of their lives, their failures, and their heartaches with the general public.
- They might be worried about oversharing and seeming unprofessional, thus scaring away potential clients and customers.
- They might just be concerned about privacy, and would rather stick to professional topics.
Any of those reasons are valid. Strangers on the internet can be vicious, and oversharing can definitely be a turn-off to potential clients.
And yet I keep talking about how important it is to share your story in order to make connections.
How do you find that balance?
The goal of telling your story isn’t to share everything. The goal is to share the right thing, in the right place, for the right reason.
Here’s the key:
Think concentric circles, not confessional booth.
Telling your story in public isn’t about dumping out your trauma unfiltered, or losing control of the narrative.
In fact, learning to tell your story well gives you ultimate control. It gives you the power to choose which parts you share, with whom, and how deeply. You can make those choices in the moment, or you can have a standard set of rules that you follow.
There are two types of concentric circles I want you to be thinking about as you decide where and how to share parts of your story.
Circle Set 1: Social Groups
Not everyone has earned access to every part of your story. That rando in the comments section or showing up in your email inbox doesn’t have a right to your most painful memories—and you shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything you don’t feel like.
However, you may want to go deeper and be more vulnerable with certain groups who are close to your inner circle. People with whom you feel some sort of rapport.
Think about social groups in concentric circles:
The general public
This is your social media. Podcast appearances. Talks. Anything that can be screenshotted and misread by a stranger who doesn’t know you and is committed to misunderstanding you.
In this circle, share high-level truth:
- what you believe
- what you’re building
- what you’ve learned
- what you stand for
You do not have to hand out the rawest parts of your life to this public circle—in fact, oversharing here can be a turnoff.
(Though vulnerability here can also be incredibly powerful. We’ll talk about that in a minute.)
Your followers and community
These are people who raised their hand to be part of your world: newsletter readers, community members, folks who chose to put themselves in your orbit.
They have a greater context to understand your story, because they know you better than the average Joe on the internet. Plus, there’s a level of consent in that they’ve raised their hand and said, “I want to get to know you better.”
This is where you can share:
- behind-the-scenes processes
- what you’re wrestling with (in a high-level way)
- more specific personal stories that connect to your work
Your inner circle
Friends. Family. People who aren’t just “followers” but who have some level of shared history and deep context with you. Your VIP memberships, mastermind groups, etc.
Here is where the most intimate details usually belong, if you want to share them at all.
What this looks like in real life
Here’s how this works for my fiction business.
General public: I tend not to get too vulnerable on my personal social media. There, you’ll mostly see:
- photos of plants
- what I’m up to
- a little book promo
- a pretty high-level “here’s the vibe” view of my world
My community: If you sign up for my fiction newsletter, you get more of my inner thoughts and feelings, especially about what I’m working on, fiction-wise. I share personal updates there, but I keep things intentionally vague and high-level. I might mention that it’s been a rough month, but I’m not going to give specific details unless it’s extremely pertinent.
My inner circle: But if you’re in my paid VIP newsletter, you’ll get a more up-close view of my creative life. I told my VIP subscribers when my husband got laid off last year, and was open about how that affected my creative output. I share the deep inspirations behind my work, and am much more open to sharing personal stories.
I’ve known some of my VIP subscribers for years—some for nearly my whole life. Others I only know through their email addresses. But the fact that they’re willing to pay $10/month for this personal update means they see me as a real human they want to support, and I thank them with my trust—and my stories.
Circle Set 2: Your Story
It’s not just your audience that exists in concentric circles. Your story does, too.
Even if something in your life is publicly knowable—maybe it was in the news, maybe people can Google it, maybe it’s part of your origin story as a business owner—you still get to decide how deep you go, and in which context.
Think of it like this:
- The public facts: the headline version, the basics. At his level, you can acknowledge what happened (“last year was the hardest of my life”) without going into detail.
- The narrative version: this is the version you might tell on stage or in a workshop to make a specific point. The details are polished and carefully curated.
- Your reflections and emotions: more intimate musings about your story that reveal a more vulnerable emotional undercurrent.
- The private core: the raw fears, grief, anger, and messy moments. These are the details you’d share with your friends or a therapist, the unfiltered thoughts you’d write in a journal.
For example, it’s very easy for curious people find out what happened to my eye—the literal headlines are still in the top page of Google results for my name. And I’ve told the narrative version again and again in my social media and newsletter.
I’ve shared many of my reflections and emotions along the way in my newsletter and on the Substack I started in the months after the injury—I found that extremely healing. But I’ve kept the raw fear, grief, and anger for my close friends, family, and members of the one-eye community.
Quick caveat: An important consideration is how raw these parts of your story still are. If you’re still actively bleeding, tend to your wound before turning it into a teaching opportunity. (And even old wounds might still need more healing before they’re truly ready to become part of your public story.)
How These Circles Interact
It’s tempting to assume that the circles of depth in your story would map perfectly to the circles of proximity in your audience and community—but that’s not always the case.
Depending on the context, deeper sharing might be appropriate, even with people in outer circles.
If you’re trying to make a point in a workshop, you might share very intimate details because it helps someone feel less alone. If you’re giving testimony or speaking to legislation or advocating for something you believe in, you might share the hardest parts of your story because the stakes require it.
And, look. Sometimes even with your inner circle, the headline version is all you want to get into.
Professional context matters, too.
I’ve spoken about my eye loss journey very openly on multiple business podcasts (like this episode of The Creative Penn podcast, just months after my injury), and while I didn’t shy away from the reality of what had happened, I kept my responses fairly high level.
When I spoke with Stephen Hamilton on The Enemy of Light and Dark podcast, though, I opened up quite a bit more. Stephen is blind as a result of bilateral eye loss, and his show is all about about eye loss and resilience. I knew going in that I was going to answer any question he asked me, as vulnerably as I could.
That’s why it’s so helpful to have these two models of circles in mind.
The Three-Question Filter
When you’re deciding what to share, run it through these three questions:
- Is this a scar or a wound?
Scars can teach. Wounds usually still need tending before it’s time to share. - Why am I sharing this story?
Is it here to create connection, illustrate a principle, offer hope, or lead to a useful insight? Or is it here because I feel pressured to be “relatable” or “vulnerable”? - Who needs to hear this?
Does this belong in a public post? Opt-in email? Private conversation? Therapist’s office? Journal? (Not all stories are marketing assets—never feel pressure to bare all!)
So, how much of your story should you share?
As much as makes sense in the context. As much as serves the person you’re speaking to. As much as aligns with the circle you’re sharing it in.
If you’ve been holding back telling your story because you think you need to become a different kind of person—more confessional, more exposed, more “look at my pain”—to be effective at using your story, believe me.
You don’t.
You can tell your story to the degree to which you’re comfortable. You get to be the author of your story and the editor.
And if you want to map your own concentric circles—what stays private, what becomes useful, and how to tell the truth without getting emotionally naked in public—I can help.
We’ll figure out what you’re actually comfortable sharing, shape it into a message that connects with your audience, and make sure it feels like you.
Let’s talk.