Tami Cook has never seen herself as much of a writer, so she was skeptical of the writing support group at the Alexandra House, a Blaine shelter for victims of domestic and sexual abuse.

Cook imagined quiet journaling time, which didn't seem all that appealing to her. However, when she joined last month, she found it was much more than that. Now, Cook faithfully attends every week. "It only took one session to rope me in," she said.

The group starts its meetings with a writing warm-up, which runs the gamut. It's followed by a broader discussion. It's helpful, Cook said, as in: "It's not surface stuff. It goes deeper into finding out who you are, what you stand for, what's important to you."

More Than Survivors: Writing Support Group, as it's called, is open to women at the shelter and in the community. It's a unique type of recovery group, and shelter staffers say it seems to be a relatively new concept.

Jenny Green, Alexandra House program director, said the offering has become one of the shelter's most well attended. "The women are able to express themselves in ways they've never been able to think about. That's why it's so important," she said.

Over the past five years, the shelter has expanded its support groups, focusing on ways that people heal from trauma. It sought to give clients choices on what might be of most interest to them, she said. For example, other support groups at the shelter focus on mindfulness and meditation, parenting, life skills and more.

Even so, as someone who isn't a writer, Green was unsure of the writing support group concept when it was brought up a year ago. "I thought you needed the skills, the creativity, the imagination," she said.

But a couple of months ago, Green and the shelter's other 25 staffers took part in a session, and "all of us were just in awe as to how creative we all got, how it made us think about the work that we do," she said.

Also, articulating oneself in writing is useful, "especially for women who are isolated, who don't have huge networks and have been thinking in their head for a long time," Green said. "In a crisis, you don't have that opportunity to force yourself to be quiet and present and write your facts down for the moment."

Finding their voices

Maddie P., a follow-up advocate at the shelter who asked that her full name not be used for safety reasons, started the group last year. She had studied social work and English literature and writing in school, and it got her thinking about how "society quiets the voice of women. Abusers isolate women, telling them they have nothing to say, that they don't know what they're saying," she said.

Maddie P. started looking into writing as a form of therapy. She came across plenty of information about writing and trauma but little pertaining to domestic violence. However, she was able to draw from a writing group for victims of sexual assault. "I wanted to create a space where women can come together as a group to get their voice back," and a writing support group seemed a natural way to do that, she said.

Often she hears, "I'm not sure who I am." She's seen how the physical act of "writing, moving your pen, connecting your body with those thoughts, is a big deal," especially for those who have been disassociated with that, she said.

Frequently, group members are hesitant in the beginning, but a shift seems to happen once they've read their words aloud. "They surprise themselves. It's beautiful. They learn they have a voice, value, something worth sharing."

Participants will say, "Did you hear what you just said?" she said. "Everyone is working through their own stuff. It's a pretty powerful space."

Sometimes the participants write about a theme, write in a journal or write a letter to themselves. Recently, they looked at the metaphor of a tree, which can thrive in all types of soil, Maddie P. said. Also, a tree goes through different seasons, while the trunk can hide different scars or big holes. "It's relevant to what is going on with people now, their hopes and dreams for the future," she said. Just being surrounded by a group of women in similar circumstances, who are working through it together, makes a big difference, she added

Opening up

For Cook, other women's testimonies speak to her in a profound way.

"Sometimes you think, 'I'm the only one this has happened to or 'your story isn't as bad as mine,' " she said. "You find out that's not true … it lets you know you're not alone."

Cook isn't one for going into detail, but she's learned it's OK to write down just a few sentences. Nobody judges one's writing ability. "It's not about the words. It's about the meaning behind them."

She said just jotting down her thoughts and feelings has been sort of an awakening for her. "I'll be like, 'Wow, I didn't realize I thought of it this way,' " or that a feeling goes far back into her past.

For one exercise with the theme "where it began," she wrote about a negative event from her childhood. Some other people wrote about a time when they started over, "things that were more inspirational," she said.

She realized, "I don't have to automatically go back to something abusive. I can say it all began when I got to Alexandra House or got a new place."

If she's struggling with something, writing in her journal has become a go-to coping mechanism for her. "It gives me tools to use on a daily basis," Cook said.

Maddie Walker said that she too, draws strength from the group. The meetings are a chance "to voice our opinions, to say what we need to say, get it on paper, get it out, move on to something different," she said.

It hurts to hear what people have gone through and to relive the pain — from a young age she was told that the violence inflicted upon her was her fault — "but once we say it out loud, it doesn't hurt as much anymore. The more I tell my story, the less pain I feel. I know we're going to be just fine," she said.

The group has helped her to realize that the past doesn't define her. "I can't change my past. I can change my future," she said. "I'm doing this thing called life, and I'll be all right."

As they go around the room, "We laugh a lot, cry a lot and walk away a stronger person," Walker said. "There's a sense of togetherness. We don't know each other's pain. It's like glue. It just bonds us together."

Last week, Walker moved into an apartment, but she plans to return to the group. "I never thought I'd wind up in a place like this. I'm glad it's here and that I can express myself openly and freely."

Anna Pratt is a Minneapolis freelance writer. She can be reached at annaprattjournalist@gmail.com.