Category: personal growth

But I Don’t Remember

It wasn’t until my trip back to Korea in the spring of 2018 that I missed something I never remembered. Prior to the trip I talked with other KADs before I even bought my ticket.After several conversations I had made the decision to go on the trip on my own, without friends or family. There were going to be other KADs in Korea that I was going to meet up with but I would end up taking my first (that I remember) transcontinental flight solo.

After upgrading my ticket, which I highly recommend, and several movies later I arrived at Incheon Airport. I still have a hard time describing what it was like just walking off of the plane. Just stepping off the plane and walking through the terminal was emotional. My eyes filled with tears as I walked through the terminal to baggage claim. I hadn’t even made to baggage claim or even gotten in a taxi yet.

The entire flight over to Korea I was so anxious about everything. I don’t speak Korean and this was a trip I was going to be taking on my own. During my trip there were only a few tours that I was planning on doing the rest of my itinerary I left open to just explore the city.

Through baggage claim, I immediately felt as easy. I could feel the tension in my shoulders disappear and it was an odd comfort. I never knew that a place I have no memory of would feel so much like home. There was a comfort being able to blend into a crowd and just being in a place that seemed so familiar that I have no memory of. It was the most incredible experience I have had. There were days that I just walked around and just enjoyed being there people watching. I am already planning my next trip back. Now that I’ve been able to connect with the country, I want to be able to experience all that it has to offer. I hope this helps other transracial adoptees. Have you had similar experiences?

 

Always,

J

Anxiety Never Stops

I know it’s been a while since I published a new blog. Honestly, I was just enjoying the feedback and the pre-orders starting to come in. I thought today would be a good day to write again. This afternoon I will get to see an uncle (first cousin once removed, I think) in the first time in a very long time. Frankly, I barely remember him and I guess the last time I saw him I was very young most likely younger than my kids are now. This morning after my kids and their dad left for the morning, I was alone in the house and frantically started getting dinner prepped and looking around to see what else needed to be clean before family showed up.

This used to be one of the biggest stressors, family visiting. If the laundry was neatly put away, my kids’ rooms weren’t clean, or the house hadn’t been dusted, vacuumed and the kitchen was a mess then my anxiety would have kicked into high gear and I would have started to panic. This morning the kitchen had been cleaned, the floors freshly swept, although not washed, the entryway swept, hallway swept and the “guest” bathroom cleaned. There are two baskets of laundry that still haven’t been put away and even thought there are dishes in the sink they are drying and waiting to be put away.

As I was preparing dinner for this evening I started to go over different topics of conversation I had in running through my head and already had my defenses lined up. I had created a list of topics to avoid and readied excuses or explanations for why these topics were to be avoided or why certain things weren’t done that had been “expected” of me. That is when it hit me. The expectations I was holding myself too were all in my head. My family wasn’t coming to make sure that the house was clean or that the laundry was folded or that my kids always made sure their rooms were clean. Trust me when I saw that the house is generally clean, however, I am not a fan of dusting and only do so when necessary.

I’m sorry to disappoint some of you, but I don’t weekly dust my house, vacuum or make sure that laundry is always done, folded and put away. That’s not me. It’s never been me. Now don’t think that I have dishes with caked on food laying around or garbage that hasn’t been taken about because that’s the case either and that’s not the point.

The point is that for the first time I was able to recognize that after years of being held to ridiculous standards and causing myself unnecessary stress, I finally called myself out on it. It was the first time in a long time that I finally got to recognize it. My home may not be perfect or Pottery Barn worthy but I know that family isn’t coming to see if their expectations have been met and visit me. I get to spend time with my family because I’m me because they are coming to visit me and not have any preconceived expectations. It is one of the best feelings ever.

The anxiety isn’t going to stop, but now I know that I will be able to recognize and control it better than before. It’s taken a lot of work and money, honestly investing in my therapist was one of the best decisions I made. To be on the other side of anxiety and the mix of therapy and medication I am so much happier. Without either of those, I am not sure where I would be or who I would be. The anxiety no longer controls me and for that I’m thankful. **Reminder Pre-Orders for my debut book, Ode to Bermuda Grass: My Journey through Grief, Loss and Adoption** are still available** Click Here to order.

Always,

J

Are you my family?

Family. At times the word can seem foreign to me. For a long time, I would look at other families and be envious of the things I didn’t have, whether it was siblings or the ability to spend time together and not want to scream. I learned from a young age that family seemed to be everything. Family was this mythological construct where people always got along and they always wanted to spend time with each other. Growing up I would watch shows like Family Matters, and Full House all the while wondering if that is how a family is supposed to be. Then I saw an extended family of mine and they were always taking vacations together, talking together and genuinely enjoyed spending time together. This was not always the case for me and it still isn’t. I didn’t really know that families could spend so much time together without sacrificing some part of their mental health.

As I grew older and not having a civil or even functional relationship with my “step sister”, I found my family elsewhere. My family and “sisters” were friends, people whom I could be myself with, that loved me unconditionally. After joining my sorority, I found my sisters, women that to this day I know I can call day or night and they will be there. Those three other women are truly my sisters, I word that I don’t use lightly.

Recently I started reconnecting with my mom’s family, some of whom I haven’t seen since I was a little girl. People that I barely remember, if I remember them at all. For the last two years, my kids and I have walked in the local ALS Walk for my dad. This year, seemingly out of nowhere, family from Florida that I just got in contact with this year, decided to make the 8-hour drive or fly up for the walk. This would have been enough, the fact that these two people who I don’t remember meeting are coming up to support ME and an organization that helped my dad during his fight. My “uncle” (actually my mom’s cousin) offered that a group he belongs too, Bourbon Society of Central Florida could sponsor my team and hold a charity raffle. I was floored. Believe me when I say that nothing shocked me more.

In support and appreciation for their support, I had team shirts made with their logo on the back. Last night they had their raffle and the total they raised for the ALS Society. It brought me to tears. They are such an amazing group of people, truly. My uncle is amazing, someone who I barely remember and haven’t seen in over 20 years made this all possible. THAT is family, that is something that I never thought would happen. I am truly overwhelmed and so thankful. In less than two weeks I get to give him the biggest hug ever and thank him.

Love your family. I love mine and I am so thankful for them.

Always,

J

Stronger than Catastrophe

A friend of mine shared a video on Facebook. It started with the statement that every parent needs to watch this. Naturally in my half awaken state I began to watch the video. WOW, just wow. After watching this very short video I was completely inspired. All if it resonated with me which meant of course that I immediately had to post it on Instagram. Coincidentally I had found a meaningful quote, probably on Pintrest I wanted to use. I have included the link to the video here. Trust me, it’s worth the 3 min.

It begins with explaining why we love our children, they we love them because they are fragile and dependent on us. Which continuing through the video is explains that we as parents need to teach our children to be strong. We teach our children that when we fall, we dust ourselves off and continue with what we are doing. It didn’t hit me until I heard that, it made me realize that this entire time throughout my childhood and the way I have raised my children, I am teaching them to be strong.

The older gentleman speaking is Jordan Peterson, in the video he says, “It’s not that life is better than you think. Life is as harsh as you think. It might even be worse. But you are way tougher than you think.” When we are faced with challenges big or strong, we forget to give ourselves credit for facing adversity head on. I don’t believe we give ourselves enough credit for facing life head on and we don’t even realize it. We are so damn tough and we fail to realize it. Give yourself a pat on the back or enjoy a glass of wine or two, you are way stronger than you think you are. In fact, you are so damn tough you have faced all of these terrible things and are still breathing. We may be bruised, broken, and hurt but we are still here, still facing life and all that it has to throw at us.

This little bit of encouragement was exactly what I needed today. Don’t forget to remind yourself that YOU are a warrior, YOU have made it through hell, and YOU will continue to thrive. It’s okay to know you’re unstoppable, that there is something deep inside you that will rise to the occasion even when you believe you will break. In my life, I have thrived despite the adversity, loss, rejection, and grief. Be unstoppable and recognize your strength. I’m in your corner cheering you on reminding you how tough you are.

Always,

J

Grief…what it’s really like

The beginning of October is an emotional rollercoaster for me. October 1 is my mom’s birthday and October 8 is the anniversary of my dad’s passing. Grief is something that I had become accustomed too even from a young age. After losing my mom in grade school, it became something familiar. Years would pass by and the sting of losing someone you love whether expected or not still hits you in the chest. There are days where things are alright and you have accepted the great loss but you can expect days that drag you down and it takes everything in your power not to scream each moment of the day. Throughout my life, I learned that grief is not linear rather that it comes in waves like the ocean. Waves of acceptance and peace wash over you and the world around seems just as bright as when they were a part of this world. Once the waves go back out into the ocean again the wounds reemerge only to feel as raw as the day the loss occurred. Those days when the pain is real and raw are some of the hardest days to keep a smile on your face.

When you lose someone you love you want the world to remember to stand still even for a moment to recognize what the world has lost. That the loss you have suffered has affected those around you. For those that have not experienced such a loss, it is hard to put yourself in our shoes. We belong to a “club”, one where membership is involuntary. The loss of a parent is something that you can’t put into words, it is something that pours over into every aspect of your life. There are moments that I want to call my dad and tell him about the newest thing that his grandchildren are doing or ask his advice about home renovations. Some days I try so hard to try and remember my mom’s infectious laugh and continue to wonder if I resemble her in any way.

Grief challenges you, it makes you dig deep and find a strength you never knew about, not because you want to but because you are made to pick yourself back up and continue to stay a part of the world with only the memory of someone you love. We have to find the strength in the midst of a loss to smile and enjoy life again.  If you have lost someone you love, I understand. I may not know the circumstances or can relate 100% but I can tell you that I have felt the pain and sting of loss and it absolutely sucks. I feel ya. I get it. I live with it. Hug your loved ones and never let them forget how much they mean to you.

Always,

J

Stop the Stigma

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Alright, it’s time to be truthful. Anxiety sucks. Depression sucks. There are days that I hate having to convince myself that some of my own thoughts are misleading and untrue. Do you know how exhausting that can be? How much work it actually takes to keep yourself put together even with the help of medication? I have struggled with anxiety, depression, ADHD, and complex ptsd since my adolescence and have only been on medication the last three years. I can’t imagine how my life would have been different if I had gotten help sooner, or had been surrounded by people who didn’t think mental illness carried such a stigma. Because I have been helped so much through medication and therapy I decided that it was time to be open about my experience and try to stop the stigma of mental health. There are days that I don’t want to do anything except lay in bed and eat take out while binge watching Netflix while refusing to shower. Thankfully those days are few and far between and if I get into that funk my kids usually want to cuddle up and watch a movie with me.

Why is this so hard to talk about? What makes anxiety, depression, bipolar, trauma, abuse, and other mental illnesses so difficult to talk about? Treatment for mental illnesses has made so many leaps and bounds since the days of straight jackets and haldol. I will admit that at first it’s difficult even for me, I was worried the looks I was going to get or if I would be seen differently by my friends. Once I opened up, it wasn’t so weird to have conversations about what medications were working and eventually a few friends started talking about their struggle with mental illness as well.

It’s time to stop the stigma. The quote above from Jennifer Lawrence says it all. We are able to talk about medication needed for diabetes, hyperthyroidism, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and even acid re-flux but not about medication needed to help us mentally.  It’s not any different, some people cannot control the level of serotonin in their brain any more then someone can control the levels of insulin their pancreas is able to produce. We need to have more open conversations surrounding mental health and the time to start is now.

Giving Back

After much thought, I have decided that part of my profits from the book will be donated to three different organizations. The first is the ALS Association they were such a support during my dad’s battle with the disease. I will never forget how many times the association was brought up by my parents and the organization’s willingness to help. The second will be through Donors Choose because my mom loved her teaching job, I will be able to help other teachers, locally as well. The third organization was recently started by a friend of mine, who lost her best friend and cousin to cystic fibrosis. She started the Rachel State Foundation in order to bring awareness to this terrible genetic disease.

I have included the links to these organizations, if you are able to give back, even a little, every little bit counts.

 

Always,

J

Why Write a Book?

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Within the last couple of months I have spoken to a few friends about the book I have been writing. This is a question I get asked often. To be honest, I’ve never thought of myself as a writer, until this book the only thing I had written was in my journal and the occasional boy band fan fictions of my youth. Never had I written something like this before, something so intense, truthful and unashamed for other people to read. I started writing…well typing and honestly I thought this was going to  be a project I started and then never finished, I have a nasty habit of that.  Most people weren’t aware that I was writing something, I made sure not to tell a lot of people in case I didn’t finish it. My biggest fear would have been to tell people some excuse as to why this book never got finished. Here we are weeks to a couple of months away from my memoir being self published and launching I am still overwhelmed with the sense of accomplishing the book, starting an LLC to self publish and completing a goal I had set back at the beginning of the year. The next couple of months is going to be exciting and I cannot wait to get started on this journey.

Always,

J

Inspiration for Bermuda Grass

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Those of you who know me, know a little about my childhood. At the very least, you know I was adopted, loss my mom when I was seven and recently lost my dad. Over the years I never thought that I would ever write a book, much less be so open about my emotions. Back in 2014, I became a foster parent. Our first place arrived in October and we officially became her forever home in May 2018. At the time she was placed with us, I was working at a mental health facility. Most of the day I was around therapists and we would discuss various topics. In college I took a childhood development class and graduated with my BA in Psychology, so I know a little. From multiple conversations with different therapists, I knew our Little Miss would eventually need therapy. It was from there I began getting her involved in therapy. Several months later and after a conversation with a close friend, she asked me how I was so strong. She wanted to know how survived everything I had gone through. She was currently going through the loss of her aunt to breast cancer. It was at that point that I thought maybe I should show the world, through writing. During one Sunday at church, there was a small message about things being completed, at that point I knew I had to write a book.

*Keep watching and following to hear where I got the idea to use this grass as a symbol*

Thank you for all the support.

Always,

J