I am a self-proclaimed lover of stories (evidence in my About Me page: Lover of stories – written, photographed, shared, observed, etc.) and I was super excited about keeping a secret all year long working on a project capturing my beloved Grandma’s stories in one little spot. She turned 90 last December and to capture her 90th trip around the sun, we embarked on a week by week journal prompt from the company Storyworth that happened to be blowing up my social media ads around this time last year.
Because of different time commitments, we made it through 26 stories. The most beautiful gift was the time I got to spend with her each week on the phone, catching up on life and hearing about her childhood/past (many stories I had heard before but I still loved hearing them again). I also loved digging through her old pictures and memorabilia to find snippets to add to the book.
The trickiest part? Keeping it a secret!!! Both she and I didn’t tell our families what we were working on which meant sometimes she (or I) had to hear some doubled up tales of life from my mom or other family members. My mom was brought to tears as she opened up the gift and realized what was inside. I know she will treasure this book and the light-hearted tales inside for years to come….
My Grandma, Mom and I reviewing the finished product, sassy photos and all!
I highly recommend this gift for someone in your life or even for YOU if you want to capture your own voice and experiences for future generations – the emailed prompts and questions made it super easy to input text and photos and then did all of the formatting directly on the website. Click here for a little discount code if you’re interested.
I love giving gifts that mean something to the receiver and honoring something from that particular point in time. I don’t always knock it out of the park and sometimes I just run out of time, but I was excited about a few things this particular Christmas.
Honoring a lost loved one: The Wonders’ biological mother passed away a few years ago which resulted in some complicated grief for both of them in their own ways. I wanted to honor her memory in a way that both of them could access when desired and for years to come. We had saved letters that she had written to the kiddos when they were in foster care and she was working on getting them back. Although the entirety of the letter is not her handwriting, I knew the signature was and had that made into special bracelets for them.
The box included the bracelet, the original letter, and a laminated picture of her signature to keep all in one special spot.
Honoring a hard year(s): Each year, our family members write letters to each other and those are the first things we open Christmas morning. I combined my love of photos with my new favorite song/anthem of the year (from my favorite new podcast of the year). Each time I heard this song, I would imagine what it would be like for each of my family members to TRULY believe the words and live their truth and best, healed lives moving forward and it got me each time. If you ever saw me singing in my car, it was most likely to this song at a high volume (or a 90’s hip hop playlist). Their “letters” included a special picture from this year, a card explaining the lyrics and a special laminated (can you tell I got a laminator for Christmas?) picture with the lyrics overplayed for them to display somewhere they might need it.
Stay tuned for another blog post with one more special present I gifted this year. What was your favorite that you watched someone unwrap with love this year?
I’ve gotten a few messages from folks receiving our Christmas card checking in on us (thank you btw), where I expressed how hard it was for me to send the card knowing our family was in a state of crisis healing. But what I loved about the creation of the card was going through an entire year of photos and remembering some bright moments that occurred (darn it anxious feelings for taking those away from my frontal lobe).
A few other unexpected JOYS from this year:
The silliness of this crew (oh ya and our 3rd place finish – the best JOY yet)!
Throwbacks of me and Beej.
Decorating my hallway/door at school.
Capturing my SC fits on tik Tok (tik Tok in general brings me joy).
Holiday decor at Gramma’s.
Chats (and silly photos to past players) with T!
My friendship with these ladies (and the Nelly concert that was 100/100)!
How loving and considerate this boy is.
When WG shows up!
My monthly calls with my school counseling soulmate!
From his perspective: Ketamine treatments (see part 1 for “what is ketamine”?) have been life changing for me. The treatments have allowed me to think clearly. It has taken my anxiety that i have had most of my life and made it almost non existent. The best way I can describe it is that I can finally breath, but not in the physical sense. I feel like I have clarity and a thousand pounds of gunk as been removed from my chest.
WB and I waiting for Dad after his last session!
NW ketamine has been amazing every step of the way. They have answered all my questions and took away any anxiety or nervousness i had about the process. Their clinic is so inviting and relaxing. The staff is incredible. You’re in a room with a nurse and you sit in a giant comfy chair. There are all kinds of essential oil scents to smell during the process.
During the infusion the only way I can explain it is you are seeing things through your minds eye. It is an out of body experience that is hard to describe. I never felt scared or unsafe. The nurse is always there in case you need to talk to them. One of the most impactful things for me was that I actually got to “talk” to my abuser and finally say no. Also during this process I was actually able to see in myself that I have worth. If you know me, that is not something I’ve ever done or thought.
PS. I listen to non lyrical Native American flute music on my AirPods during the session (he really felt you needed to know this part.)
Celebration lunch at Fogo De Chau in Bellevue.
How cool are these elevators?!?!?!
From my (wife’s) perspective: I have a lighter and more free husband after the last three weeks of treatment. PTSD and other mental health diagnoses can feel like a jail cell sometimes and can be incredibly isolating when others don’t know the heaviness of what is happening behind closed doors. He is slower to react and more gentle in his interactions with me and the kiddos. I am so grateful we have a supportive network that can suggest these modes of treatment and that we have the resources to seek them out for ourselves and our family. I am also grateful my husband loves me enough to listen to my ideas and try them out, making himself incredibly vulnerable to not only the action but me writing about it afterward (and just to reiterate, with his permission).
I know I have been absent on here the last couple of months – it is hard to discern what stories to share and what stories to keep private to protect the relationships and journeys of those I love and care for.
In usual end of year fashion, I look forward to publishing my yearly blog book and don’t want to miss out on a chance to tell some stories from this year – perhaps even with the purpose of sharing inspiration to others that could use it.
This year, my One Little Word was heal (read blog post here). Part of this was researching some alternative forms of healing to the usual suspects of medication and talk therapy. These forms of help definitely have a place in our world of mental health but what I am finding is that some mental health struggles can actually be resistant to this treatment or even worse, they can make some symptoms even worse.
My husband, who has struggled with mental health stemming from childhood trauma (his most accurate diagnosis would most likely be Complex-PTSD but very few clinicians give this diagnosis – especially to adults). After a rough patch this year, he agreed to try some alternative forms of treatment, including both Ketamine infusions and EMDR. I thought I would share a piece of his story (with his permission) about Ketamine, in case you or a loved one is also struggling with depression/anxiety that may be resistant to other forms of treatment.
Northwest Ketamine was recommended to us and he had a very good experience there. I will post a Part 2 with some of his own thoughts on the treatment.
Have you heard of Ketamine infusions before? If the answer is no and you or a loved one is struggling with mental health, remember to do some research and ask questions – there is more out there than medication and talk therapy!
I struggled with what to call the experience of WonderGIRL moving out of our house unexpectedly this last summer – although many writers talk about it as a transition (when your teen moves out or goes to college) defined as “the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another”….that just didn’t fit this particular experience.
Our experience was much less of a process and ongoing period but a jump off a cliff into the anxiety-ridden unknown. And as we move forward, I am going to write about this experience just from my point of view and not sharing a lot of details about her or her choices during this time – and the reason I’m writing about it at all is to practice my own form of self-care and survival and my own processing of disenfranchised grief that happened during this time.
At the end of July, WG decided she was ready for adulthood outside of our home. While I am sure she was fully convinced she had the skills necessary to do so at the time, I knew a different story but had no control one way or the other. In Brene Brown’s newest book (must-read BTW), she writes, “as it turns out, being able to see what’s coming doesn’t make it any less painful when it arrives.” Because the thing is, we PREPARED for this transition. We were talking about her adulthood with her therapist starting at the age of 16! We purchased a house to transition into a downstairs apartment for her. We had countless conversations spelling out (and acting out awkwardly) every hard thing she might encounter and how her emotions might react to front load her body’s reaction. We provided all the safety and the protection and the structure that all the books said we should.
The only picture I have of us during this time period. We saw each other less than 5 times in 5 months.
And I’m pretty sure the hurt and the grief was the same amount as folks that literally didn’t even see the cliff looming ahead. After she left, we tried to set up regular meeting times – they all fell through. After she left, I tried to text and remind her of our unconditional love – they weren’t returned. After she left, I checked my phone obsessively just for a sign that she was still alive or hadn’t ended up at the ER for suicidal thoughts. I felt twinges of hope when she sounded lucid and genuine and then waves of despair when I encountered the shell of a daughter I had raised for the last 7 years.
I truly felt like a failure – I did all the things that I knew how to do from countless trainings on the effects of trauma. I did all the things I thought I should do as a foster/adoptive mama. I advocated for her in all the ways I knew how to – and it still ended like this and her choices were that of any other kiddo aging out of foster care (I’ll share those devastating stats below) – so what was all the heartache, the criminal trial, the social workers, the allegations, the painful moments even for?!?!
This feeling (not her or her actions, just MY bodily response) sent me into a state of depression for quite a few months this Summer/Fall. People even reached out to me with typical requests to share my blog or talk to their friends about adopting or taking in teens with trauma and I told them I was the wrong person to ask – I would have told them to run the other way!!!!
I went to work and to volleyball and sometimes thought of nothing else besides returning to my bed and Netflix the second I could. I found small pockets of joy (especially during volleyball) that kept me going but was having a hard time. I found this image while scrolling social media and it resonated with me for that time period – like I’m going to work and outwardly showing signs of flourishing, but definitely ALSO in a period of depression.
And just in case someone you know is in a similar state, I thought I would share a little section titled “What helped me during this time period?” – my husband and WB understanding my grief and letting me be – check ins with our therapist – vocalizing my struggle to my colleagues and my volleyball team – adjusting my goals of movement and self-care to accurate standards (work out 1/week vs everyday for example) – texts that just say “checking in” without any judgement if I don’t respond – being clear with my boundaries (“I don’t want anyone to come in my room tonight”, “I can’t go to that family thing – you need to go without me.”)
Although WG didn’t technically age out while “in the system”, any history of foster care and a trauma-brain can contribute to these outcomes.
Again, I am writing about this experience just to process it for myself but also to highlight a journey that I don’t see revealed in many other places. Having a struggling adult child with mental health issues is SO ISOLATING – you care about their privacy and dignity with their own story and can’t share the same as with a little child, yet folks really don’t know how to help or what to say even if you do share. So you spare them that experience and say nothing…..
As I am still smack-dab in the middle of this transition, other things I’d like to document here: – what I learned (about myself, about young adults with her background, about our system) – the impact on my marriage
This season marked our 8th straight trip to the state tournament. And NOT having it last season made me appreciate it just a bit more. Per usual, self-reflection is my self-care so I thought I would put a few thoughts about this special sacred time into writing (without sharing some secrets that make it extra special for future Ferndale players). And although the true definition of sacred has to do with something religious or a specific deity, I am describing state as something sacred, because it is something worthy of being HONORED….so here we go.
This joy doesn’t come around very often – I love that it’s captured for all of time.
The most obvious thing that makes this time the “most wonderful time of the year” is that only a small number of teams actually make it here – playing into November, placing in the top teams at Districts and then coming to a location far from home to battle it out with other top teams is the icing on what was already a successful season. It’s celebrating the hours of grit and grind (and boards and EYP’s and Texas Tough drills) in the gym and making each ounce of individual effort worth it for the collective good and success of the TEAM.
The less obvious “sacred” things that stood out to me specifically this year are the traditions, both big and small, that older players know but don’t share (kind of like Santa but for a sports team) to the youngers. It’s the community and family rallies at the send-off and homecoming. The fans showing up across the state and caring about nothing else but your success. It’s the nighttime team meetings where we squish into the coaches’ room, play silly games, then review game plans for the next day (including the dreaded breakfast wake up call). And all the other little moments in between (see a few in picture form below).
Sacred chats (and lukewarm Chinese food) in the Safeway.
These vans hold bonding, bad playlists, and even sometimes relationship interventions.
Community and family support for our send-off.
Pre-tourney meditation and gear reveal.
And on a personal note, one of my favorite parts of state weekend is getting my entire coaching staff to MYSELF (okay to the varsity squad) for the whole time. While my JV and C team coaches have their own teams to invest in, it’s a bit of “passing ships in the night” during the season so getting them on the bench and around in practice sessions is the best. I am so lucky to constantly have a crew of caring and oh-so-knowledgeable coaches leading this program and the state tournament is our last hoorah together – being with folks that make me laugh and that I trust with the players on and off the court is something I don’t take for granted.
Taryn is not crying just in case you were wondering.The essentials were packed. IYKYK.
She sat at the back and they said she was shy, She led from the front and they hated her pride, They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance, They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence, When she shared no ambition they said it was sad, So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad, They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears, And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears, And she listened to all of it thinking she should, Be the girl they told her to be best as she could, But one day she asked what was best for herself, Instead of trying to please everyone else. So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees, She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves, She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine, And she told them what she’d been told time after time, She told them she felt she was never enough, She was either too little or far far too much, Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak, Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek, Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs, And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her, And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave, For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe.
Came across this on Facebook and it took my breath away….had to share. Had to save so I can stumble upon later.
Getting married in our late 20s meant we had some stuff to work out in our early relationship. Some past patterns and hurts that showed up early and threatened our relationship in big ways….I am so glad those hurts stretched us, made us vulnerable, and got us into therapy because it built two individual humans strong enough to endure what was to come.
The last two years have included some dark and hard tunnels. And I respect and love this man for blindly walking through them with me hand in hand….without knowing when the light will come.
As I near the age of 40 (which means very little to me as far as ages go), I am noticing that this age DOES mean some things to people around me, especially women. And what I’m observing from both close and afar…..which makes me super excited, proud, inspired is that reaching higher ages and “mid-life” has prompted so many of my friends to “EVOLVE” or as I like to call it “up level.” They are realizing their potentials, they are healing themselves or accessing help to heal themselves, they are leaving toxic situation and they are pursuing their purposes. So instead of the old verbiage, “mid-life crisis”….I thought I would share a little about the collective “mid-life level up” I am witnessing around me and some resources you might be into as well.
Looking back on my life in creating my family within the last 10 years, my realization of purpose and prompts for healing needed to come earlier out of the need for sheer survival. Committing to a life of loving my husband and kids with complex-PTSD meant we all had to reflect on our own triggers, heal our reactions in small moments, and “do the work” (as I like to say) much earlier than might happen in typical family stories. This work included hours of therapy, handfuls of personal development reads and podcasts, tears and heartache, and hours of the holy grail of healing – meditation practices.
The books that keep “popping up” as inspiration in my journey:
Untamed should be required reading for all women. What Happened to You? should be required reading for all foster/adopt parents, educators and survivors of childhood trauma. Highly recommend BOTH!These two reads are “the HEAVY and HARD work.” They are a bit more cerebral and will gut punch you at times with their prompts and concepts but if you can stay present and dig in, enlightenment is on the other side waiting for you.I would recommend these books for “non-readers.” They are short stories and can be picked up, put down at any time. Great for coffee tables or travel. Small stories – big impact!
To all of my mid-lifers out there, I see you and honor you. Keep meditating and raising your self-awareness. Keep striving for your best self. And keep sharing your journey – you may never know the seeds of inspiration that grow in others’ hearts and be the missing puzzle piece for the evolution of another. Let’s level up together shall we?
P.S. And can I even do a blog post on personal growth without a Brene quote? I think not…..
”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go.
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.’’ – Brené Brown
