Memoir writing is an act of courage—an excavation of the past, laid bare for the world to see. For those who dare to tell their truths, the process can be both harrowing and transformative. In her searing new book, The Plan B Chronicles, Meredith Beardmore offers an unflinching account of heartbreak, betrayal, and ultimately, self-reclamation. A psychotherapist and somatic healer by trade, Beardmore’s memoir is not just about surviving but about thriving in the wake of life’s most brutal upheavals.
We had the privilege of speaking with Meredith about the process of writing her memoir, the vulnerability required to tell her story, and the lessons she hopes readers will take away.
1. Writing a memoir requires an extraordinary level of vulnerability. What was the moment you knew you had to tell your story?
As I began to review a year’s worth of journal entries, I stood back and thought, Whoa. This was bad. Like, really bad. And yet—there was something else there too. I could see, in real time, how I had survived without a plan, without a roadmap. Just raw instinct, rage, grief, stubbornness—one foot in front of the other. And it made me wonder: Why wasn’t there more out there for women going through this exact kind of wreckage?
I wondered how many women were out there, drowning in shame, staying silent, too afraid to share. I felt that if more of us ripped the curtain back—if we told the truth, in all its messiness—we’d all feel less alone. So, yes, there was a moment of conviction. A moment where I knew the pain had to mean something. That if I could walk through the fire, I damn well wasn’t going to keep the survival map to myself.
2. How did your background as a psychotherapist and somatic healer shape the way you processed your own heartbreak? Did that knowledge make the healing process easier or more complicated?
I felt like a student again. Like I had spent years teaching a class I suddenly had to retake—but this time, the stakes weren’t theoretical. All the knowledge, all the tools I had spent my career giving to others? I had to re-learn them for myself. And let me tell you, that is a humbling process.
I had run my own private practice for years, guiding people through their pain with a kind of steady knowing. But then my life blew up, and suddenly, I wasn’t the guide—I was the one lost in the wilderness. Everything I had taught about the nervous system, about trauma, about listening to the body instead of bypassing it with logic? It wasn’t just important anymore—it was everything. I had to actually live what I had always told my clients: that healing isn’t just in the mind, it’s in the body.
3. Many people experience betrayal, but not everyone writes a book about it. How did you navigate the fine line between personal catharsis and writing a story that resonates with a broad audience?
I think what made it resonate wasn’t just my personal story—it was the fact that I kept seeing my story reflected back at me everywhere. In pop culture, in movies, in the way society talks about women and aging and cheating like it’s all just some inevitable, scripted drama. It was surreal—like my own heartbreak was playing out on a bigger stage, over and over again.
That’s what made me realize: This isn’t just my story. This is a story so many of us have lived. Betrayal, the gut-punch of being traded in for someone younger—it’s a tale as old as time. And that’s exactly why I had to write about it. Because knowing it’s a cliché doesn’t make it hurt any less. If anything, it makes it worse—like your deepest pain has been reduced to a punchline.
4. Somatic healing plays a big role in your personal transformation. For those unfamiliar, can you explain what it is and how it helped you reclaim your power?
Somatic healing is about coming back to your body. It’s the understanding that trauma, stress, and heartbreak don’t just live in your mind—they live in your nervous system. In your jaw when you clench it. In your shoulders when you tense them. In the way you hold your breath without even realizing it.
And here’s the thing: when we’re in pain, we’ll do just about anything to escape it. Doomscrolling. Overeating. Pouring another glass of wine. Texting someone we know we shouldn’t. Anything to not feel what we’re feeling. And I get it—because feeling is hard. But somatic healing tells you to do the opposite. It says, Put the phone down. Stop running. Sit with it.
5. Memoir writing can bring up past traumas. Were there any chapters or moments in the book that were particularly difficult for you to write? How did you push through those moments?
Absolutely. In the chapter Uncut Truths, I describe a moment when I feared for my life—when I had to crawl into my son’s crib and fake being asleep. Even recalling it now makes me nauseous. Writing it down, knowing that once the book was out in the world, I might have to talk about it—terrified me.
But I knew it had to be included. Because that moment wasn’t just fear—it was confusion. Disbelief. The kind of experience that makes you doubt your own memory, your own instincts.
6. Divorce often comes with societal stigma. Did you face any resistance or judgment when sharing your story so openly? If so, how did you handle it?
Oh, absolutely. And the most surprising part? A lot of the judgment came from other women—especially from older generations and the stay-together-no-matter-what crowd.
But here’s what I’ve come to believe: sometimes, people don’t want to see you do the thing they wish they could do. Your freedom can be threatening to someone still living in fear. And that’s their work, not mine. My work was saving myself. And I did.
7. Your book is not just about heartbreak—it’s about liberation and empowerment. What is the biggest lesson you hope readers take away from The Plan B Chronicles?
That it’s never the end. I know that sounds too simple, too cliché—but when your life detonates, when you’re thinking, This is it. This is what breaks me,—it’s not. The things you think will kill you? Won’t. You are stronger than you know.
8. If someone reading this is currently in the middle of their own ‘Plan B’ moment, what advice would you give them?
Be open. Tell people what you’re going through. I know it’s tempting to stay quiet, but you are not alone. I promise you that.
9. What’s next for you? Do you see yourself writing another book?
Oh, absolutely. One of the big things I want to explore next is dating in your 40s as a single mom. Because let me tell you, if you thought dating in your 20s was chaotic, try doing it with a kid, a career, and an instant allergy to red flags. It’s a whole new world, and I have thoughts.
More writing, more healing, more stories to tell. Because as long as life keeps happening, I’ll keep writing my way through it
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