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A Supermoon, A Confession, and Courage found in Stories

On one crisp Seattle morning, with the surreal glow of a supermoon illuminating the waters of Puget Sound, my path serendipitously crossed with Ellen's. A stranger with a magnetic aura, she introduced herself as a healer. As someone nursing the scars of a recent breakup, I felt an inexplicable connection, wondering if this encounter was meant to guide me toward healing.



Our brief conversation hinted at Ellen's depth and layers. However, nothing in that fleeting moment could have prepared me for the subsequent whirlwind of emotions I'd experience, as Ellen stood under glaring gymnasium lights to share her haunting tale.


The stillness in the air was palpable as her mellifluous voice echoed with the recitation of "The Sh’ma," a profound Jewish prayer. As an outsider to its significance, I was still spellbound by the raw emotion she injected into every word. But it was her next words that sent chills down my spine: “Murdering my father in my mind was an emotional battleground.”


As I scanned the faces around me, a cocktail of shock, intrigue, and empathy was evident. What unfolded next was a tour de force performance where Ellen masterfully inhabited over 40 characters from her tumultuous past, each more vivid and impactful than the last.


Her memoir, Nothing Ever Goes on Here, unravels the twisted narrative of a family battling its own demons: a father who walked the fine line between charm and cruelty, a brilliant but tormented mother, and Ellen's own metamorphosis from the chains of generational abuse to a beacon of hope and healing for many.


Ellen's unfiltered recounting is not just a story; it's a courageous act of unveiling the harshest truths of her life in a world where many of us hide behind carefully curated facades. In her vulnerability, Ellen challenges us to reflect on our truths, our masks, and the walls we construct to protect our deepest wounds.


This journey with Ellen made me confront my own hesitations and fears. If she could stand amidst strangers, sharing her tumultuous past with such conviction, perhaps there's hope for all of us to find our voices and embrace our stories, no matter how shadowed by pain they might be.


Every individual has a tapestry of experiences – some dark, some light. By delving into them, sharing them, we don't just seek our own catharsis but potentially light a torch for others groping in the darkness.


Dive deeper into Ellen’s world in her riveting book, Nothing Ever Goes on Here, or embark on a journey through her online space at www.EllenNewhouse.com. As her tales have spread across cities, touching countless souls, it's our hope that her off-Broadway act, once hindered by the pandemic, will soon mesmerize many more.


In the myriad of stories like Ellen’s and countless others, there's a universal truth: Our tales have power. It's time we embrace, narrate, and heal through them.




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