Guarded, Grateful, and Growing: Mila Maxwell on Identity, Healing, and Writing Through It All
Riffin' About Life with Brian R. King MSW
What happens when life pushes you to your emotional limit, and instead of snapping—you write a novel? In this deeply moving episode, Brian sits down with Canadian author Mila Maxwell for an honest, soul-searching conversation about identity, vulnerability, and the healing power of storytelling.
Mila opens up about growing up with a sister who has cerebral palsy, navigating emotions she didn’t always feel allowed to express, and how writing fiction gave her permission to tell the truth in a way that finally felt safe. From anxiety in childhood to hypervigilance as a parent, she shares what it’s taken to dismantle old emotional patterns—and how her debut novel has not only helped her heal, but helped others feel seen.
What You’ll Learn:
How writing fiction became a safe space for truth-telling
Why lowered expectations and high standards can lead to emotional resilience
How growing up with a neurodivergent sibling shaped Mila’s emotional landscape
The shift from survival mode to intentional self-regulation
How parenting, therapy, and creativity can unlock buried emotions
Powerful Quotes:
“Her struggles don’t diminish mine. I’m allowed to feel things.” “I’ve lowered my expectations, but I’ve raised my standards.” “I didn’t let it out, because I didn’t know how. But the writing—changed that.”
Full Transcript
Brian King (00:00)
Hey there, Mila Maxwell. Hello there, Brian. I don’t know your name. Brian is the first name. You got that right. And that’s the most important because now we can be friends. Excellent. So you are up in Canada. What part?
Mila (00:20)
East Coast. So I’m in Sussex, New Brunswick, right between Moncton, St. John, and Fredericton.
Brian King (00:30)
Those are good directions. But you and I are just meeting for the first time. So we’re going to be getting to know you and what motivates you, what you’re passionate about. So let’s start with: when you wake up in the morning, what values do you know are going to drive you?
Mila (00:45)
That I have control over how my day goes, whatever happens.
Brian King (01:00)
Dang, okay, that’s good. Is that something you taught yourself, or something you practice daily?
Mila (01:15)
Both. It’s hard because I didn’t always used to be that positive. I used to be an optimist, and when things didn’t go as planned, it would destroy me. Now I’m more of a realist. Life’s going to happen. I’ll get curveballs. My book promotion might not go as I hoped, or gym memberships might not meet expectations — but I can choose how to respond.
Brian King (02:00)
Exactly. So it’s not about detaching — it’s about choosing where to put your energy. You mentioned something powerful: realizing things are temporary. That’s a big shift.
Mila (02:30)
Yeah, it is. I used to get so rattled. Now I remind myself: people aren’t usually trying to hurt you; they’re just caught up in their own stuff. Lowering expectations but raising standards has helped me a lot.
Brian King (03:00)
That’s a great distinction. You’re accepting reality without losing integrity.
Mila (03:15)
Exactly. I used to take everything personally. Now I try to stay objective.
Brian King (03:30)
It’s a calmer way to live. Especially when you realize mistakes are part of being human, not signs of failure.
Mila (03:45)
For sure. I lived the first 35 years of my life in survival mode. I had such a dysregulated nervous system. Learning not to take things so personally changed everything — my marriage, friendships, and even parenting.
Brian King (04:15)
That’s huge. Was that shift recent for you?
Mila (04:25)
Very. Writing played a big part. It let me dismantle the walls I built. I used to be so guarded with love because I feared it wouldn’t be reciprocated. Writing cracked that open.
Brian King (05:00)
I relate. As someone with ADHD and autism, I often can’t understand my thoughts until I write them out. It’s how I make sense of the chaos.
Mila (05:30)
Exactly! Conversations can feel unpredictable. Writing gives me a safe place to untangle what I feel.
Brian King (06:00)
You also write about growing up with your sister, who has cerebral palsy. How did that shape you?
Mila (06:20)
It changed everything. I compared us constantly. I had to grieve the relationship I wanted and accept the one I had. Writing about that helped me heal — and helped others feel seen too.
Brian King (07:00)
That’s what storytelling does. It gives people permission to be honest.
Mila (07:15)
Exactly. I wanted to reach people who felt what I felt but never said it out loud.
Brian King (07:45)
You mentioned earlier learning to let your son express his needs without over-managing him. That’s such a powerful reflection.
Mila (08:00)
Yeah, I realized I didn’t have to anticipate everything for him like I did for my sister. He can tell me when something’s wrong. That realization freed me from so much anxiety.
Brian King (08:30)
And you learned to give yourself permission to be human, too.
Mila (08:45)
Exactly. I used to suppress emotions to avoid being “too much.” Now I pick who gets access to my vulnerability — and that’s okay.
Brian King (09:15)
That’s wisdom. Not everyone deserves your softness.
Mila (09:30)
Right. And when I do lose my cool, I remind myself: it’s okay. I’m human.
Brian King (09:45)
Beautiful. Every “messy” moment can be an act of self-compassion if you let it.
Mila (10:00)
Yes! I’m learning that peace isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.
Brian King (10:15)
You said something earlier that really stuck with me — about writing breaking down those walls. What was it about the process that made it so healing?
Mila (10:30)
It let me feel safe enough to be honest. I’ve always been good at analyzing emotions but not at feeling them. Writing gave me a container to process what I couldn’t say out loud. It’s like the act of putting words on paper made it real but manageable.
Brian King (10:55)
That makes perfect sense. I’ve always said the page listens better than most people do.
Mila (11:05)
Exactly. It doesn’t interrupt. It doesn’t judge. It just holds space.
Brian King (11:15)
You also talked about growing up with a sibling who has a disability. That’s a unique emotional experience. What was that like for you?
Mila (11:30)
It shaped everything. I learned empathy early, but also guilt. I grieved the version of sisterhood I didn’t get to have. There were milestones we couldn’t share — dating, driving, even gossip. I compared myself to my friends who could do those things with their siblings. It took years to accept that love can look different and still be real.
Brian King (12:10)
That’s such an important truth. So many siblings carry guilt for wanting what’s human — connection, ease, sameness. Admitting that doesn’t make the love smaller; it makes it honest.
Mila (12:30)
Exactly. That’s what I wanted my book to do. To say out loud what so many of us feel but are too ashamed to say. I wanted someone to read it and think, She said what I’ve never been able to say.
Brian King (12:55)
And someone did, right?
Mila (13:00)
Yes. A woman in a book club told me she felt seen for the first time. Her brothers had disabilities, and she said reading it helped her forgive herself for her resentment and exhaustion. That one message made it worth everything.
Brian King (13:30)
That’s the power of one brave story. When you go first, it gives others permission to stop pretending.
Mila (13:45)
Yes! Even when I was writing it, that inner voice would whisper, Stop complaining. You don’t have the right to feel this way. But my mom helped me see otherwise.
Brian King (14:00)
How so?
Mila (14:05)
After my son was born, I told her I was tired and then immediately said, “I shouldn’t complain.” She stopped me and said, “Why not? You’re allowed to be tired.” It hit me hard. I’d spent my life believing my struggles didn’t count because someone else had it worse.
Brian King (14:30)
That’s a generational script right there — the hierarchy of suffering. Like your pain only matters if it passes a certain threshold.
Mila (14:45)
Exactly. And once I dropped that belief, I started healing.
Brian King (14:55)
And you said that anxiety was something you’ve lived with since childhood?
Mila (15:00)
Yeah. I missed 56 days of school in fifth grade because of it. Back then, we didn’t have the language for mental health. I just said I was sick. Really, I was terrified — of everything and nothing all at once.
Brian King (15:25)
And nobody really caught it.
Mila (15:30)
Not fully. My mom did her best. Eventually, she took me to a child psychiatrist. He told her, “This will stay quiet until she becomes a parent.” He was right. When my son was born, it all resurfaced. But this time, I faced it differently.
Brian King (15:55)
How so?
Mila (16:00)
I started recognizing my hypervigilance — always scanning for danger, assuming something must be wrong. I realized my son didn’t need me to manage his emotions like I did with my sister. He could speak for himself. So I learned to step back.
Brian King (16:30)
That’s such a profound moment of self-awareness. Realizing your old survival skill isn’t needed anymore — and letting it go.
Mila (16:45)
It was hard. That instinct to fix and prevent runs deep. But therapy helped. And one day, after I yelled at my toddler and felt awful, my counselor said, “Good.” I was shocked. She said, “He needs to see you’re human.” That changed everything.
Brian King (17:15)
Yes! It teaches kids that love and frustration can coexist. That emotion doesn’t equal danger.
Mila (17:30)
Exactly. That one conversation rewired something in me.
Brian King (17:45)
You’ve mentioned both your parents a few times. Sounds like they each taught you different lessons about emotion.
Mila (17:55)
Very much so. My mom’s calm, steady, rarely reactive. My dad’s passionate and expressive. I learned from both but also inherited their extremes — suppressing feelings until they exploded.
Brian King (18:20)
That’s such a common pattern. When we learn emotions aren’t safe, we don’t stop feeling — we just stop showing.
Mila (18:35)
Exactly. And when I finally did express them, it came out as anger. I wasn’t trying to be difficult; I was trying to be heard.
Brian King (18:50)
That hits home. And I think many people reading this will see themselves in that.
Mila (19:00)
I hope so. Because when you finally see it, you can stop judging yourself for it.
Perfect — here’s the final section and wrap-up of the conversation, formatted cleanly for your Substack layout and tone.
Brian King (19:15)
Let’s talk about your novel. You mentioned that a single sentence came to you before you fell asleep one night — almost like it was waiting for you.
Mila (19:25)
Yes! My husband had just said, “You should write a book,” and a few hours later, I was half-asleep and this line appeared in my head: “Martha was only seventeen years old when her entire life flashed before her eyes, except it wasn’t her life at all. It was her younger sister’s.” I shot upright in bed and thought, Holy crap, that’s a book.
Brian King (19:55)
That’s the kind of moment every writer dreams of.
Mila (20:00)
Right? I don’t even know where it came from. The main character isn’t named Martha, nothing like that ever happened to me — but that sentence opened a door. Suddenly I could see the whole story.
Brian King (20:20)
Fiction does that. It sneaks past the rational mind and tells the truth sideways.
Mila (20:30)
Exactly. Writing fiction let me explore real emotions safely. I could show pieces of my own life without exposing everyone in it. And because I was writing through different characters, I could finally see events from my sister’s perspective, my parents’, even my younger self’s.
Brian King (20:55)
That’s powerful. I used to dismiss fiction because I wanted “useful” writing — I’ve written several nonfiction books. But once I started my novel, I realized storytelling teaches in ways advice never can.
Mila (21:20)
Yes! I started mine as a memoir and hated it. It felt flat. Turning it into fiction made it alive again — it gave me permission to play, to process.
Brian King (21:40)
And to heal.
Mila (21:45)
Completely. One of my editors called it “tying the bow.” He meant closing loops for the reader — but I think I was really tying bows inside myself.
Brian King (22:05)
That’s beautiful. You gave those moments an ending that real life never offered.
Mila (22:15)
Exactly. I wrote scenes that never happened but should have — moments of compassion, of standing up for my sister, of forgiving myself.
Brian King (22:35)
That’s why your story resonates. It’s fiction rooted in emotional truth.
Mila (22:45)
Thank you. That means a lot. Writing it taught me that healing doesn’t always happen through logic; sometimes it happens through imagination.
Brian King (23:05)
I could talk to you all day, Mila. Thank you for showing up with such honesty. I’ll make sure readers can find your work easily.
Mila (23:20)
Thank you. This was such a joy. I’d love to do it again.
Brian King (23:30)
Deal. Take care, my friend.
Highlights
Mila’s vulnerable look at emotional armor, self-compassion, and finding balance.
The origin story behind her novel — and the sentence that started it all.
How fictionalizing her life gave her emotional safety and creative freedom.
What happens when you stop apologizing for being human.
Why imagination can sometimes finish the healing logic begins.
Outro
Thanks for listening and reading along. If this conversation resonated with you, share it with someone who’s learning to let life happen instead of trying to control every piece of it.
You can find more conversations like this on my podcast Riffin About Life, where I sit down with people who’ve turned struggle into wisdom.
Until next time — be kind, stay curious, and keep writing your own story.
Have questions about today’s episode….
Key Takeaways
Control isn’t peace — perspective is.
Lower expectations, raise standards.
You can be compassionate without being naïve.
Writing can be therapy in disguise.
Peace starts when you stop apologizing for being human.
Follow Up with Mila: