healing – Growing Grace

September 22, 2017April 21, 2020

Adoption: The Quiet Voice

Part 2:

It’s never been a secret, really. I didn’t hide it. I have always been open and willing to talk about it. Not necessarily something I advertised, but something I’ve come to deeply appreciate and value about my personal life story. Yet, somehow in this moment, it feels inexplicably overwhelming. I worry about making other people uncomfortable by the revelation. I battle with old feelings of uncertainty resurfacing. I recoil at the thought of feeling exposed, raw and vulnerable. In other articles I’ve written, and in the very mission statement of my blog, the message is clear: Empowered Times—Liberate the inner evolution! I strive to encourage everyone to stand boldly in who they are, to embrace their flaws and shortcomings, to honor their scars, and to move fearlessly down the unexplored paths of self-awareness and self-discovery.

And here I stand at a crossroads. On one hand, I am paralyzed by uncertainty and doubt. On the other hand, I am propelled and fueled by a vision which has evolved over the years. I believe, as Michelle Madrid-Branch so eloquently and succinctly frames it, “Adoption Means Love.” We must continue to find new ways to open up conversations about adoption. We must break down the stigma and overcome the taboo associated with adoption. We must encourage people impacted by adoption to share their voice and their experience with others. We must create more connection, more transparency, and more opportunity for dialogue. We must provide more validation and support during the challenges presented through the adoption process. We must empower one another to whole-heartedly integrate our unique experiences into a profound understanding of who we are, where we come from, and where our future endeavors will take us.

With all this said, I will choose to step on to the path of uncertainty and doubt and embrace the risk involved along the way. I will choose to share my voice. This is the voice not often heard in the adoption story. The voice in the shadows. The voice that historically disappeared for nine suspicious months, only to reappear muted and stifled. The voice that often still only whispers its truth behind closed doors or on safe platforms. However, I believe that in concealing this voice, we also arrest the potential for understanding and healing.

Many years ago, “Grace’s” mother asked me to write this story… our story from my perspective. She said she had bought every book she could find on adoption, but none of them offered anything about the birth mother. How could she fully explain to her three-year old daughter how much her birth mother loved her if there was no such character written into any of the storybooks? Children begin to understand life through play and story-telling, but how can they make sense of adoption if things are only vaguely presented to them? Storybooks which do include the birth mother, often do so in a mythical and mysterious way. Not to dismiss the importance of some of the most popular stories on adoption, as they most certainly convey how much the baby was hoped for, prayed for and celebrated after the adoption. However, an important segment is overlooked… how much the baby was loved, longed for, and nurtured prior to the adoption. This is the story I am going to tell.

September 9, 2017April 21, 2020

Adoption: Helping Children Discover Their Story

Part 1:

My first job when I moved to Los Angeles in the year 2000, was working at a residential facility for primarily pregnant and parenting teenagers. I was a counselor and case manager for a group of girls who called themselves “The Survivors.” And they were. They had each come from their own tragic family situation, and many were under the care of Child Protective Services. At the age of 15, 16 or 17, they were either expecting, or in the process of learning how to raise children of their own. Despite their unstable circumstances, these young mothers were resolved to raise their children. At times, Child Protective Services would intervene, and the babies would be removed from the mother’s custody. Regardless of what the authorities determined, it was always evident to me how much the girls loved their children. I developed tremendous respect and tender empathy for these children trying to raise children.

Over the years I have worked with many children in foster care, children who were adopted, and children with extremely complicated parent relationships. I will never forget Lisa, one my first clients in the public school system. She was in the second grade, and lived with her father who had recently been released from prison. Her father was committed to rehabilitate himself so he could provide a decent life for his daughter. There was a restraining order against Lisa’s mother due to excessive drug use and the unpredictable and risky behavior that ensued when she was high, which she often was. Despite the court restriction, Lisa frequently went to visit her mother in the van where she was living in a vacant lot nearby. I worked with Lisa for three years, and though the restraining order against her mother was never lifted, she never gave up trying to see her mother whenever she could. Something within compelled her.

Lisa was about the same age as my own daughter, the daughter I placed for adoption eight years earlier, while still in my teens. In professional terms, we refer to this as counter-transference, and I had to carefully manage the empathy I had for Lisa in her situation, and differentiating that from my own feelings for my daughter. Choosing adoption was the single most difficult decision of my life. One thing I was adamant about, from the moment I first discovered I was pregnant was to make sure this child (we’ll call her Grace) felt loved, cared for, and like the integral part of me she was and would always be.

In some ways, this personal experience informed and set me on my professional path. When I was in graduate school, one of my professors spoke about a book, The Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier, which recognized and explored the complex dynamics for every member in the adoption process. In reference to the book, my professor explored the deep and long-lasting wound among children who are adopted, birth mothers, and adoptive parents. Of course complex dynamics and deep wounds exist in even the healthiest and most functional family relationships.

Every family’s situation is different. With regard to adoption, families will choose what type of adoption feels right for their family. For example, Grace’s adoption was initially meant to be an “open adoption,” but that shifted over the years as the needs of their family changed. However, whether the adoption is open or closed, domestic or international, adoptive children have the right to the truth in a way that is sensitive to age and developmental stage.

My professional experiences have only reiterated for me what I have always known to be true on a personal level. All children should have the opportunity to ask questions, explore possibilities, and understand how their life may have begun. We must support children in their own process of navigating who they are and where they come from, so they can make sense of their unique stories in meaningful and healing ways.

August 17, 2017April 21, 2020

The Powers of Storytelling

When I was a little girl, I was a storyteller, able to weave tales together like a master. I would try to convince others my stories were true, often because the stories felt so true for me. It was an imaginary world, and growing up in a home with one black and white television, at time before internet, my imagination was a critical source of entertainment for me.

The origin of storytelling goes back thousands of millennia, and for our earliest ancestors, had significantly greater purpose than mere entertainment. Sharing stories has been an integral part of our history, human nature, and survival. Storytelling helped to make sense of and provide meaning for life and death, imparted information about potential threats and means of survival, created emotional connection with others, and of course communicated various perspectives and experiences throughout generations. (Watch video)

Telling our own personal stories can also be profoundly healing. In fact there is an entire psychological perspective known as “narrative therapy,” which focuses on the individual’s ability to tell, explore, and understand their stories in a meaningful way. Ultimately, we make sense of our world through our stories, and whether we are aware or not, we have a plethora of stories going through our minds everyday. Saying our stories aloud can be extremely powerful. When there is someone to witness our story (e.g. a therapist, a trusted friend or family member, a support group, or even a larger audience), we have the opportunity to be heard, felt, and understood, allowing us to view our experience from a different perspective.

For those of us who are a bit more discreet and would rather not broadcast our stories, there are also incredible benefits of writing about our experiences. James W. Pennebaker, PhD has researched and published his findings (Opening Up) on the power of reflective writing. He proposed that by exploring our stories with a willingness to openly address how we feel about those experiences, we are able to understand ourselves better, process past traumas, and ultimately, live healthier lives. Dr. Pennebaker found that people who were able to honestly identify and disclose their feelings about specific life events experienced reduction in depression and anxiety, lower stress response, and improved immune function.

Stories are especially important for children. While the brain is in the earlier stages of development, young children are less able to process abstract concepts like the death of a loved one, changing family dynamics with a new baby in the house, or understanding adoption. However, if they read a story about a character (even if it’s a hippopotamus), and they feel they have something in common with the fictional character, they become better equipped to understand and make sense of their own unique and personal story. Stories also offer children an opportunity to ask questions and gain better awareness and empathy for others.

As children, we are primed for stories, when our imaginative mind may be at its height. I realize as I’ve gotten older, other more practical qualities like logic, problem solving, and concrete thinking have become more dominant, and my creative powers of make-believe have fallen by the wayside. There is hope. Like the muscles in our body we may neglect over time, the imaginative areas of our brain have the potential to be revived with a little exercise and practice.

Like a “moth” to the flame, we continue to be drawn to stories through books, television, film, and more recently social media. In the era of reality television, it’s refreshing to know about community clubs and organizations (e.g. The Moth, Toastmasters, This American Life, etc.) which focus on real experiences… raw, uncensored, and honest human stories. Sharing our own personal stories and listening to the stories of others provide us with an incredible opportunity. Storytelling can help us to feel validated through shared experiences with others, facilitate healing, create a sense of connection, and reinforce our commonality as a species. We need this now more than ever!

December 5, 2015April 21, 2020

Counter-Steering Through Loss

Motorcycle riders call it counter-steering. When taking a turn, counter-steering is the process of pushing the handlebars in the opposite direction you think you should, and leaning your body toward the turn. Even when this accompanies the sensation that you could topple over with the bike, leaning into what feels like it might take you down is what actually allows you to execute the turn safely.

Navigating this life unscathed, unscarred, or unimpacted by the crushing sensation of heartbreak, the sting of rejection, or the raw and ever-present void from the death of a loved one is nearly impossible. All of these losses, among others, can Continue reading “Counter-Steering Through Loss”