Experiencing rejection from someone you really like, and feel a connection to, is always a painful experience. For an adult child of divorce (ACOD), it can be painful and challenging in a whole other light. I am speaking from personal experience due to a rejection that I experienced recently. I know I am not alone in this. While living in Spain, I met and began talking to and getting to know a Spanish man. He and I shared the same Catholic faith and the same values. We talked so easily and could speak each other’s languages. I sensed no red flags and felt at peace and hopeful about discerning a dating relationship that I could see coming. I believe that he did, too. I began to feel a connection early on, but, alas, before too much time, he rejected me, with the only reason being that I was a foreigner: I am an American of Mexican heritage.

Mindsets require a great deal of evidence to reframe.  When we lack that evidence, we get stuck in incorrect thinking. Z humbled me with plenty of evidence to overturn my mindset about him.  He was impeccably professional, patient with difficult students, and as kind as he was brilliant. Students’ work, after he taught particular lessons, reflected that he was probably one of the best instructors I had ever worked with. He unconditionally covered for me when I took a day off to attend a funeral, and he took on twice his share of papers to grade. All without complaint and with good cheer.  In the process, Z unknowingly taught me lessons about unexpected connection, inspiration, brotherly love, loss, and ultimately, letting go.

This year, on my own birthday, I was inspired to write such a letter to myself! The past year has been one of immense suffering as well as immense growth. The two so often go hand in hand. I have written letters to myself before, mostly to my younger self. This was a new journaling endeavor, and one I found to be quite powerful. I wanted to share this letter with the LGW community in the hopes that someone else might be encouraged by parts of my own story or perhaps even be inspired to write such a letter to their own self.

Our long and winding road walking with Christ is not easy.  He never promised that it would be.  He promised He would be with us, always. (Cf. Matthew 28:20) Saint John Paul II expresses this idea beautifully when he wrote:  “The way Jesus shows you is not easy.  Rather it is like a path winding up a mountain.  Do not lose heart!  The steeper the road, the faster it rises toward ever wider horizons!”

Our suffering—our wounds—are now no longer meaningless or purely negative; they are also sources of grace and points of intimacy with God. Christ is waiting in our wounds, to show us His particular love for us, in wounds that only He and I share. “The Sacred Heart desires other hearts that are pierced by suffering that he can pour himself into.” (Jacques Philipe, Time for God) In my particular vocation, I am married to Christ, and he is my suffering Spouse. He is nailed to one side of the Cross and I am nailed to the other. That cross in our marriage bed. But this can apply to all souls, because we are all called to union with Christ and have unique wounds that we only share with Christ.

Today my childhood homes only exist in my memories 

and in my thoughts and in my veins 

and in my blood and in my bones - 

for they are no longer mine to hold.

For 

I have grown up, but 

a part of me is still 

that small girl.

In 2021, Pope Francis established the celebration of the World Day for Grandparents and Elderly, which is the fourth Sunday of July. In 2025, we decided to do something special in preparation for that, and to honor our grandparents along the way.

We asked Adult Children of Divorce or Separation to help us create a series of collaborative blog posts, poems, and/or artwork  which showcase the role their grandparents played in their lives, and how they have aided in the healing journey as children of divorce grow into adulthood. We want to ennoble them with the important role they play in their grandchildren's lives. 

Reflecting on my own journey, I see how God has had a plan for my life, even when my family structure did not seem to align with a faith-filled path. Recently in prayer I was contemplating on the goodness of God that despite the absence of having a father in the faith, my three young daughters are growing strong roots in the Church than I ever had at their age. So much so that they are now telling me about saints and their stories that I partially or even never knew of. In that time of prayer, I felt consoled by the Lord and Him urging me on to be the good soil so that the roots of their spiritual life and their fruits may develop to their fullest.

As ACODs, while our parents did not provide us with everything we needed for our own formation, we have the ability to take responsibility for our ongoing formation as adults. There are many resources we can choose from to help us. Forming Families, Forming Saints is one resource that I can warmly recommend. One does not need to be a parent to see the immediate application and benefits that this book provides.

Temperament is the science of how we tend to react. Some people tend to react quickly and intensely. Others react slowly and not intensely. For some people, their reactions are long-lived; others easily let go. Some forgive and forget; others hold on for decades. Some love to immediately take charge, while others just want to fit in and go with the flow. These temperament differences impact (but need not determine) our emotional lives, relationships and our spiritual lives.

For adult children of divorce, a fear of dating, relationships, and the thought of marriage one day can be very real. As ACODs, we have been profoundly wounded by relationships and marriage. We saw what was meant to last instead fall apart. We were robbed of our need and right to be raised by both of our parents together in the same house, to bear an image and example to us of agape love, which is the kind of love that God has for us. The sacrament of holy matrimony is good, beautiful, and holy. Marriage and family life must follow the vows, which is God’s design and plan for marriage and family life. As children of divorce or separation, we saw distortions of the truth and something beautiful and good turned ugly and undesirable.

In the history of time God hasn’t manufactured any takebacks,

And if He could permit the Fall, and choose to go on,

I choose to believe that he can make his Glory dawn—in me.

I am not bound by my past

because He has destroyed the death that sought to silence me.

The only bound I am is bound to be free; marked, as His, for eternity.

There are some unique challenges when it comes to ministering to teens from broken homes. Of course, any ongoing situations of abuse or harm must be reported to appropriate authorities—make sure your church or group has mandatory reporting and training in place to keep minors safe! However, there are many layers of the divorce wound that may not be the kind of thing you can or should report to Child Protective Services (CPS). In these cases, awareness and practical pastoral guidance for these teens is best. Below, I want to outline some of the unique challenges faced by teen children of divorce or separation (TCODs):

As the calendar year turns over, we rejoice in all of God’s blessings in 2024 and look ahead with joyful anticipation to 2025! Here’s a short recap of some of the best highlights of 2024, and some goals and dreams for what’s ahead in 2025…

Yet there in some cold, darkened room,

A Presence, which wasn’t yet known,

Whose power could pierce through the gloom

All those fears he could rend

That poor heart he would mend

If only his beauty be shown.

Apologies — being willing to say “I’m sorry” — are an important part of any relationship. But how do we apologize well, whether it’s to a roommate, family member, significant other or spouse? Here are a few tips — what to do, and what not to do — to help build a quality apology.

My adolescent life was a playground swing.

Back and forth:

Between Mom

And

Between Dad.

I never knew where to go, nor where I belonged.

I didn’t know where home was, for I couldn’t be close to them both.

I have often wondered why, in the long history of the Church, we do not hear more often about saints who lived through difficult family situations. Surely there were plenty, but it is not usually the aspect of their lives that we hear about. And so learning of St. Eugene’s life, and reading through his letters, I found myself grateful to know that I had a friend in heaven who understands my particular pain. Even someone who lived in the 18th and 19th centuries, such as Eugene, experienced similar trials and emotions that we do in the 21st century.

I am writing from a deep place in my heart that is crying out, pleading to be heard, like the persistent widow who cries out until justice is hers. (Cf. Luke 18:1-8). If I could make my voice as loud as thunder, I would cry out to every bishop, priest, deacon, and lay pastoral leader to consider if they are doing what is necessary to accompany the newly married, the divorced, and the children from broken families.

No couple gets married looking forward to being unhappy in their marriage. But no couple avoids times in marriage where one or both spouses feel unsatisfied, restless, lonely, or just plain unhappy. Does that mean they have fallen out of love? Should they doubt their commitment? What should an unhappy couple do about their unhappiness?