The Emotional Wound Thesaurus

by Becca Puglisi

  Even the kindest, most loving parent can become a monster under the right circumstances. Imagine a boy who accidentally scratched someone’s car with his bike and was beaten to death by the enraged owner. If the boy’s father discovered that police had bungled the evidence and the perpetrator was about to be set free, what actions might be spawned from his grief, anger, and need for justice?

  Your character’s moral beliefs are part of his inner core and will dictate what he is willing to do (and not do) to achieve the story goal. Having his actions reflect his morals, even if they have shifted, adds credibility to the story as long as you have carefully connected the cause-and-effect dots for readers.

  WOUND FALLOUT: A CASE STUDY

  As you can see, a wounding event has the power to influence core aspects of a character as well as change the trajectory of his life. The repercussions of carrying a false belief will also cause him to become “stuck” in many ways, so the importance of taking the time to understand the fundamental shifts within a character can’t be understated.

  Let’s return to Paul and his dying marriage to observe how his wound has reshaped him. As you’ll recall, following his wife’s devastating confession, Paul played the blame game and emerged with the flawed idea that she had sought love elsewhere in part because Paul wasn’t good enough and therefore wasn’t worth loving (the lie).

  Put yourself in Paul’s shoes for a moment. Imagine the pain of believing deep down that there is something vitally wrong with you, and because of it, you’ll never find true love and acceptance. Your belief in yourself is shaken. Your self-esteem plummets. You torture yourself by visiting that ugly place within—the Well of Insecurity—where you draw up bucket after bucket of personal deficiencies, shortcomings, and memories of the stupid things you’ve done.

  This is Paul’s mind-set. Suffering rejection in this way has cut him to the core, and now he’s trapped in an awful reality he never saw coming.

  Suddenly in the midst of this pain, a terrifying realization hits: if this emotionally disemboweling experience could happen once, it could happen again. Fear sends Paul into a panicked scramble to do whatever it takes to ensure that this type of rejection and the pain associated with it won’t be repeated.

  Here’s what that might look like, and how Paul’s life will be different in the days ahead.

  Emotional Fortifications, or “Raising the Psychological Drawbridge”

  When Paul’s fear kicked into overdrive, he immediately started erecting emotional shielding, leading to shifts in his personality, attitudes, and behavior. Perhaps before the event he was a friendly guy, always willing to listen, with an optimistic outlook on life. Now he’s aloof and skeptical, never accepting what people say at face value. If he senses a co-worker knows more than she claims, he becomes angry and will grill her, using manipulation or even intimidation to find out what was held back. Others in the office have noticed this, and Paul has been reprimanded by his manager twice.

  Distanced Relationships

  It should be no surprise that Paul holds back when it comes to people, and his standoffishness keeps relationships on the surface, not letting them deepen. He is slow to warm to newcomers and has a difficult time opening up even about small things. When he’s with established friends, he’s a bit better but often finds himself reading into what they say and do or questioning their motives. Overall, he assumes most people are not being fully genuine, and this outlook justifies his determination to never fully trust anyone.

  When it comes to romance, Paul stays away from commitment; most of his relationships with the opposite sex are shallow and transactional or contain safeguards to ensure a certain distance. He chooses sexually aggressive women who are clear about which team they play for. The one time Paul started to grow close to someone, he broke it off because, in his mind, ending it early was better than becoming the jilted lover again once she realized he wasn’t worth the effort.

  Viewing the World Through a Filter of Fear, Not Hope

  Believing that one’s emotional pain will reoccur is like expecting that every dog one meets will bite. As Paul navigates his life moving forward, every action and decision is steered by his fear of rejection and abandonment. Trusting people, taking them at their word, letting them in—all these things contributed to his past hurtful experience, so now he places limits on certain activities and interactions. To avoid situations that aggravate his wound or challenge his misbelief, Paul also underachieves, because trying for a big goal (such as chasing a promotion at work) will reveal his shortcomings if he fails, reminding everyone that he’s defective.

  Because he’s always avoiding ways to be hurt by playing it safe emotionally, he doesn’t feel as deeply about things, and this limits his opportunities for true happiness and fulfillment. By holding on to fear rather than facing it, Paul is also denying inner growth, something that would be not only personally satisfying but necessary for him to achieve important goals. His fear makes him unwilling to take certain risks even though this results in him living a half-life of discontent and stagnation.

  Paul’s bright spot is his kids, and he tries to spend as much time with them as he can. However, in the back of his mind sits the fear that if he doesn’t build a strong relationship with them now, they too will one day leave him. As a result, he caters to them, and is starting to notice that if they don’t get their way, they act out.

  A Hole Within that Grows

  After his marriage ended, the last thing Paul wanted was another failed relationship, so he’s careful to not let things get serious with anyone. He dates to satisfy his carnal needs but is ignoring a deeper one: love and belonging. And while he finds satisfaction in his relationship with his children and enjoys hanging out with friends, as time goes on, he feels as if something is missing. In fact, as much as he hates to admit it, a part of him yearns for the very thing he’s sworn off having: a committed, loving relationship. He tries to satisfy himself with other things, such as buying a new motorbike, taking trips to exotic locations, and indulging in rich food and alcohol, but the dissatisfaction caused by this hole refuses to yield.

  THE TRIGGER FOR CHANGE: UNMET NEEDS

  When emotional shielding goes up, it transforms a character, creating damage that must be undone for him to find his way back to a life of balance, happiness, and fulfillment. Unfortunately, the effects of emotional trauma run deep, and the fear it generates can send a character off-grid for years until a deeper urgency emerges that prompts a course correction. The accompanying sense of something being amiss will cause its own pain that needs to be addressed. But when such a deeply embedded fear of psychological pain is driving the bus, how can the character get back on course?

  Several things can cause him or her to act: regret, anger, guilt, or even a moral belief, such as fairness or honor. But above all, the primary motivators in life are fear and need. Fear, as discussed, can cause a lot of fallout and hold a character back in life. But unmet needs have the power to direct behavior above all else, meaning, if the urgency is strong enough, needs can push characters to act even if their deepest, most debilitating fears are telling them not to.

  The Hierarchy of Human Needs is a theory created by psychologist Abraham Maslow that looks specifically at human behavior and the drivers that compel a person to act. Separated into five categories, it begins with needs that are the most pressing to satisfy (physiological) and ends with needs centered on personal fulfillment (self-actualization). The pyramid representation of Maslow’s original hierarchy makes a great visualization tool for writers as they seek to understand what motivates their characters.

  Physiological: the most basic and primal needs, such as food, water, shelter, sleep, and reproductive sex.

  Safety and Security: the need to be safe, in good health, and have stability, both for oneself and loved ones.

  Love and Belonging: tied to human connection and the ability to form lasting bonds, experience intimacy, feel love, and love others in turn.

&n
bsp; Esteem and Recognition: the need to be valued, appreciated, and recognized by others for one’s contributions, as well as to achieve higher levels of worthiness, self-respect, and confidence.

  Self-Actualization: the need to attain fulfillment through the realization of one’s potential. This might come in the form of pursuing and achieving meaningful goals, seeking knowledge, attaining spiritual enlightenment, or embracing core values, beliefs, and an identity so one may live one’s truth.

  The categories of needs are arranged by importance. So food, water, and other primal physiological needs are the most critical to fill since they are based on survival. Next in line is the need to be safe, then to be loved, to be respected, and, finally, to reach one’s potential. These needs, when met, create balance and satisfaction within a person or character. But if one or more is absent, it creates a hole, a feeling that something is missing. As this lack builds in intensity, the psychological pressure will grow until finally it pushes the character to seek a way to fill the void.

  When a human need is diminished or missing to the point of disrupting the character’s life, it becomes a motivator. For example, a person can skip lunch and only experience minor discomfort until the next meal. But if it’s been a week since he last ate, his discomfort becomes a gnawing void that demands to be filled, an obsession he must pursue. He might cross moral lines to steal food or resort to personally humiliating actions, such as begging or digging in a dumpster. He may even take foolish risks, such as eating food that has spoiled, because his singular focus is on that unmet need. Everything else—pride, fear, self-esteem, even safety—becomes secondary.

  Sacrificing one need to satisfy others happens often, which is why there’s a hierarchy. If a character must choose between a job where he’s universally admired (esteem) or financially stable (safety), he’ll choose the latter. Or his goal to become a doctor (self-actualization) may be set aside if his wife is diagnosed with a terminal disease and he must leave school to care for her (love). Just like that skipped meal, placing one need before others usually isn’t a problem in the short term, but the longer a need goes unmet, the more disruptive it becomes until it eventually hits a breaking point. Unhappy marriages end in divorce when the pain reaches an unbearable level. An employee quits a job when workplace esteem levels bottom out or mistreatment escalates. Everyone has a “final straw” moment, after which they can take no more. How quickly it’s reached will depend on the individual and the reasons he has for being in the situation in the first place.

  These “need” categories help us imagine our characters’ layers and the wholeness they seek. Some unmet needs can be ignored longer than others, but they all end up at the same tipping point: once that hole grows big enough, the character will act, despite the presence of fear.

  For our character Paul, despite his terror of being rejected, the void of not having a partner to share his life with creates a longing that becomes hard to ignore. At the same time, his emotional shielding is making it difficult for him to get along with people at work, and he’s struggling with the spoiled behavior of his children. Add this to his loneliness and the dissatisfaction caused by underachieving, and he’s growing increasingly unhappy and frustrated.

  Eventually one of two things will happen: Paul’s unmet needs will grow until his day-to-day existence seems intolerable. Deep down he will know something is missing and feel compelled to figure out what it is and fix it. His unmet need takes over and will push him to look inward to see what’s holding him back. As urgency increases, it will eventually force him to reshape his behavior so changes can come about.

  The second possibility is in the form of a new goal that causes Paul to question his current path. Maybe he meets a woman who is single, fun, and has no interest in a committed relationship. On the outside, this seems perfect to Paul . . . until he starts to develop feelings for her, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. This leaves Paul with a choice: pursue the challenge of this new goal (find love), or give it up because his fear is still too great (and break things off as he’s done in the past). He can’t have both. And, of course, he also can’t find love if his deepest internal belief is that he’s not worthy of it. So to move forward and meet that need, his lie must also be unmasked.

  Change isn’t easy. In fact, it is often painful, and it takes great courage to step into the unknown. The temptation is always there for a character to stay in the safe but dysfunctional comfort zone: to settle for less while trying to ignore the hole created by an unmet need.

  At the end of the day, the choice is up to the character, and, by default, it’s up to you as the author. The journey of change (character arc) is at the heart of most stories, which we’ll discuss in the next section.

  CHARACTER ARC: AN INTERNAL SHIFT TO EMBRACE CHANGE

  In movies, the crazy explosions, car chases, and Mr.-&-Mrs.-Smith-type trysts often get the glory. That’s all fine, but there’s so much more to a great piece of fiction than squealing tires and things blowing up. Beyond the what of any story lies the why: Why should readers care, why should they invest, and, most of all, why is the protagonist driven to act?

  Every narrative has a series of events that provide a framework for the character’s journey throughout the novel. This is the outer story. Most works of fiction also contain an inner story: the character’s arc, which is the transformation he undergoes from start to finish. It is this internal element that really draws readers in, reminding them of their own personal struggles and providing the context they seek to better understand their experiences in the real world.

  This inner story, or character arc, comes in three forms.

  THE CHANGE ARC

  This arc is the most common one. Typically, during the course of the story, the protagonist undergoes a much-needed internal evolution that allows him to free himself from the fears, biases, emotional wounds (and resulting lies) of his past. Without this baggage clouding his perspective and steering his actions, the hero is able to view his situation with clarity and act from a position of strength—not fear—which leads to goal achievement and fulfillment.

  THE STATIC ARC

  Some stories contain high action or are intensely plot-driven, meaning, there is less emphasis on the character’s internal growth and more on him achieving a specific goal. While these protagonists may not evolve too much, they will be challenged heavily and so must hone their skills, gain knowledge, or apply learned techniques to overcome the forces that stand against them.

  THE FAILED ARC

  Not all stories end with a happily ever after. Sometimes the protagonist fails, and the story ends in tragedy. This results from a failed arc, where the character was working toward internal growth but was unable to complete the necessary transformation. His fear was too great, and the hero was either unable to change or couldn’t change enough to attain the desired outcome. Often, failed arcs leave the protagonist in a worse position than he started from because salvation was within reach but he lacked the courage to shuck off his emotional shielding and free himself from fear. This is the path taken by many antiheroes.

  When it comes to character arcs that involve internal change, emotional trauma becomes especially important. One of two things usually happens within this type of arc: the character starts the story lacking something, feeling an emptiness within that leaves him yearning for something more. This is the unmet need, and the rest of the story becomes about the pursuit of that need by the character chasing a tangible goal that will fill it. Take our character Paul, whose perfect life was ripped apart when his wife left him. His story may include needing to find love again (love and belonging), achieving an important accolade at work (esteem and recognition), or both.

  Other times, the character starts the story feeling satisfied and complete, with his needs fully intact. Almost immediately there is a great upheaval, and something is taken from him. The story then becomes about the character regaining what was lost. This could occur with a family vacationing
in a foreign country, but civil war breaks out and they must risk a dangerous border crossing to find sanctuary (safety and security). Whatever the circumstance, in a change arc, the protagonist will struggle until he masters his fears, faces his past wounds, and sees the lie for what it really is. This change in his outlook and renewed belief in himself marks the internal growth needed for him to move forward from a position of strength, putting him on the path to reach his goal.

  In most works of fiction, the same four dinner guests have a seat at the storytelling table:

  An unmet or missing need that creates a deep longing or sense of urgency (Inner Motivation)

  A tangible goal that represents the fulfillment of this need (Outer Motivation)

  People or forces that oppose the character’s mission (Outer Conflict)

  Any fears, flaws, wounds, or misbeliefs that block personal growth and diminish the character’s self-worth (Inner Conflict)

  These four pieces make up the core of storytelling. Take one away and what remains is diminished, or the story as a whole may fail to work. The possible exception is a story containing a static arc; in this situation the inner motivation isn’t clearly linked to a specific missing need, and the inner conflict may consist of a weakness that hampers success and must be overcome. Still, at the heart of such stories is a problem to be solved, and the protagonist is driven to solve it.