Writing Under a Pen Name: A Journey of Courage, Healing and Compromise

When I first decided to write Resolve, I planned to publish it under my real name. It felt natural, even empowering, to own my story fully. But as the drafts evolved and I moved closer to publication, the reality of writing about sibling sexual abuse (SSA) became clear. For legal reasons—defamation risks, protecting the privacy of my extended family, and my own peace of mind—I chose to write under a pen name.

Alice Perle was born out of necessity, but she also became a symbol of courage. Alice represents the strength it takes to walk through the dark tunnels of memory, the resolve to speak the unspeakable, and the compassion to hold space for others walking the same path. Yet, the decision to use a pseudonym carries ongoing complications.

The Tightrope of Risk

As Alice Perle, I can share the raw truth of my story. But as myself, I cannot say outright that I wrote the book. Instead, I speak about Resolve as if it were written by someone I deeply respect and hold space for in my heart. I know her story, and I know it’s real. It will help others.

Sometimes, I falter on the tightrope of risk and think, Screw it. It’s hard not to feel frustrated that, in protecting my brother’s identity, I must limit how much I can claim of my own story. That sucks. It’s a bitter reality for many survivors who share their stories in the SSA space—we tread carefully, balancing the need for justice, healing, and protection.

But even with this compromise, I’ve found ways to make my voice heard. I appear on podcasts and speak publicly; the pen name becomes the stage name. Wherever possible, I model to the world that those impacted by SSA don’t have to appear on live video. We are not show ponies and workarounds are possible. Privacy, empathy and respect are paramount, especially while sharing stories that matter.

A Life with Two Realities

Alice Perle’s book, Resolve is a brave and lucid vision and understanding of the subject matter by a mature and insightful writer and soul. She lets us in on her sweet, vulnerable, innocent child reality along with the deep fear and haunted quality of being stalked and sexually abused in her own home. She captures the deep loneliness and isolation created in a child’s psyche when “the call is coming from inside the house.” The divide of carrying on in two realities, carrying the shame and burden of this secret while living her ordinary life is profound. Her capacity for self-reflection and explorations into healing reflect a person willing to look in the depths of herself and her family life with compassion and wholeness. This book contains a lived map leading to the pure gold of integration and wisdom. – Quinn

As lived experience expert Quinn shared in her review of Resolve, I acknowledge that I have lived a life where there is a divide of carrying on in two realities. I smile now, thinking about that because I am consciously doing so with the pen name. However, I feel for the little girl who was me because she didn’t see that she was. It was just how life was for her.

The divide began from the moment the abuse began and my brother’s threats to remain silent or there’d be big trouble. That was enough for me to do what I was told, aside from asking the priest for help when I was 10, to no avail. Beyond that, I did not say a word about what I was experiencing for over four years in my childhood home.

Then, as I moved into adulthood, beneath the surface, the harm caused by SSA hummed away, while above, I wore the mask society expects—a leader in business, a mother, a friend, and all the roles I played to appear “normal.” I didn’t know I was playing the roles, though; I felt it was me just being me, but it was later, when writing Resolve, that I saw how a lot of ‘me just being me’ had elements of my coping mechanisms, hypervigilance, avoidance, and strategies for getting by in them, that were to do with the abuse and ongoing trauma.

Now, I Navigate a Different Kind of Divide

Personally, every person who knew I was writing the memoir for the four years that it took – my close circle of friends, peers, the researchers I reached out to, advocacy leaders, my mother and my immediate family knew I wrote Resolve. Other people I left behind in my personal life, including my brother, do not know I wrote what happened to me.

Professionally, I run two companies: one for my leadership clients, who may not yet be ready to reconcile their perception of me with the fact that I’ve shared my trauma story; and another completely focused on empowering survivors of SSA. It’s not an easy choice, but it’s the one I’ve made. And I’m not alone—there are others in this space doing the same.

Why I Persevere

Using a pen name, operating two companies, and walking this tightrope is not simple, but it’s worth it. Writing Resolve was never about me. It was about being a voice in the silent landscape of sibling sexual abuse. It was about showing survivors they are not alone and that healing is possible.

Alice Perle is my pen name, but she’s also a bridge. She allows me to stand in both worlds—the private and the public—and speak to those who need to hear: You are not broken. You are resilient. You can heal.

I live on the Sunshine Coast with my husband, enjoying the peace and creativity this coastal life brings. Recovery is a lifelong journey, but it’s one I’m grateful to be on. Whether as Alice or myself, my goal remains the same: to empower survivors and create change in the silent spaces of this world.

RESOLVE: a story of courage, healthy inquiry and recovery from sibling sexual abuse

Now available internationally through all online bookstores and audiobook stores, libraries, and brick-and-mortar bookstores. It can be ordered directly from the author’s website for delivery within Australia.

I know this is an uncomfortable topic and that RESOLVE may be triggering. You will find a short list of incredible organisations and peer support groups you can reach out to for help today:  SUPPORT

Shared with love,

Alice