Isidra Mencos is a writer who has taught me a lot about being a writer, especially how to be honest even when it shows your weakness. Shortly after I read her new memoir, Promenade of Desire: A Barcelona Memoir, I asked her if she would agree to an interview. To my delight, she accepted.
I met Isidra in Dan Blank’s Mastermind group years ago. I was surprised and honored when Isidra attended the Zoom book launch for my first memoir on 10.10.2020. I had not realized the importance of writers helping each other until I felt the support of having her there.
An important part of being a writer of memoir is writing truthfully about family members, especially mothers, so I asked Isidra if it was difficult to write about her relationship with her mother. I loved the complexity of her answer:
Very difficult. Mom and I had a conflictive relationship. I loved her deeply, but I also resented her. She was a very strong woman, and she could be quite harsh at times. Yet nobody in my family ever dared to confront her or have a different opinion than her. We were scared of her displeasure, her rejection. Opening up about our conflicts felt like a betrayal, but at the same time, I did try all along to show her good sides: her strength, her competency, her selflessness and sense of responsibility, and how she always opened the door of her house to me when I came back, broken, after the latest boyfriend drama. She wouldn’t give me a hug, but she put a plate at the table for me. She passed away while I was still working on the book. I confess I was relieved to know she wouldn’t read it.
Yet another thing Isidra has modeled for me was how to craft a story using facts that you normally don’t share with other people. I remember feeling embarrassed when Mary, the esteemed editor for my first memoir, suggested I include a vignette on masturbation. I knew it was an important part of my growing-up years, but I didn’t want to admit publicly because I felt shame. This led to my next question.
Isidra, on page 128 you say you wanted to ask the doctor if masturbation was a sin. Where did you learn that word? How did you decide it was dirty?
I was raised with that belief. Although the word “masturbation” was not in my vocabulary as a child, my mom scolded me severely when she caught me touching myself at 5 years old and told me it was dirty, so I grew up with a lot of shame around pleasure and sex. Nudity was also taboo at home. I slept with my sister, but we never saw each other naked. At night, we undressed under our nightgown so not a bit of flesh showed up. And I went to a Catholic school where prudishness was ingrained and anything sex related was considered sinful.
Writers need to have confidence in themselves, so I asked Isidra how she overcame the self-doubt that she described experiencing throughout her memoir:
It was a very long, slow process. I only truly got over it in my mid-50s. Lots of things paved the way: therapy (especially Jungian), meditation, and simply, age and maturity. Something that helped a lot was finally committing to my lifelong dream of being a writer. Giving myself permission to tell my story has brought me a lot of peace. I have accepted that not everybody will like it or will like me, but I’ve been honest, raw, and fully aware that I’m presenting myself as a deeply flawed being. It’s this comfort with my own imperfection that has finally opened me up to more self-confidence and compassion for others.
I had to know if the woman on the cover was really Isidra so I asked.
Yes, that’s me at 23 years old. My boyfriend at the time (Leo in the book—a pseudonym) took this picture. I didn’t give him the photo credit because he wanted to stay anonymous.
If you want a good read, pick up Promenade of Desire. And thank you Isidra for being such a great friend and mentor.
And if you want to stock up on books so you will have something to read during the holidays, check out the new pages on my website that have been lovingly crafted by Mason Hiatt: NickyMendenhall.com
