Usually I can stare at the screen and the words I am about to write come flowing through me. But, this time it is different. The screen is blank the words are jumbled in my thoughts of how I share so something that has been who I have been for so many years. We are who we are by how we are raised. The ways we did things or didn’t do things are for sure a product of how we grew up. Don’t get me wrong I feel blessed to have been adopted and not had to grow up in a foster care home, but there are too many times I wish I could just turn back time.
Growing up I often spent a majority of my time in my room, or playing with a friend or two. My family was always really quiet and didn’t talk much or have those family game nights that my other friends had with their families. Still today we don’t have the communication as a family. I often have been given whatever I want within reason and very rarely told “no”. Still today I am often told “whatever makes you happy” or “do what you want” we’ll be there to support as much as we can. Through the openness of being able to do what I want I didn’t learn being consistent, communication, or how to build quality relationships.
In my late teens I became a runaway, I ran away from home multiple times and was considered a “Missing Child” for a little over a week at one point. For years I ran away if not leaving but to go to my room and isolate myself so I wouldn’t have to discuss or deal with what life’s curveballs were throwing at me. I have become known as the Black Sheep of my family or the Nomad.
Recently I have tried to runaway or change from what sucks or what I challenges me. It is what I know, it is all I know. When you do something for 30+ years it becomes a bad habit that is impossible to break. Hidden within the word “impossible” is the word “possible”. While I made grunt and sometimes not do it with a smile on my face, my coach has challenged me to rewrite the story of my life.
What will it look like to rewrite my story and to plant roots. I am not sure what it will look like, but I know she is right and I do need to plant roots. While I have had trees in many different forests, I am sure that those trees often had shallow roots. For when the storms of life would roll through the tree would topple over and a new tree would be planted elsewhere. My tree is damaged and it is a little dead and brown, but I want to rewrite my story and build my new forest with strong trees that can withstand the storms.
I laughed as my meeting with my coach came to and end today, I know that the strength of my anchor will be tested with storms. While sometimes I am human and my anchor doesn’t dig in and rolls onto the next deep spot to secure itself.
I know I have found my family at OPT, I just need to be more vulnerable…weather the storms and plants my roots. For my body, mind, and spirt will be shaken but I have a fantastic family who will be there to support, encourage, and challenge me.
Anchor of Strength 