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My parents officially divorced when I was about 17 years old. My father persistently campaigned for a divorce. He confessed that he had been in a relationship with another woman whom he had actually married while on his “vacations” in Egypt. Since I was the eldest of three, my mother would share her pain with me. To this day, being the main witness to her inconsolable weeping is one of the most painful experiences I have had as a 41-year-old man.
Read MoreIf your parents divorced when you were an adult, like mine did, you may have experienced strife over paying for a wedding or a car. For me, my parents fought over who paid for what while I was in law school, including the cost of the postage stamp used to mail my monthly check! My parents’ contention over petty things affected my image of God the Father, who cannot be outdone in generosity (see Matthew 19:29). If my parents argued over who paid an extra few pennies to help support me, I certainly could not rely on them to provide anything, including financially.
Read MorePrior to the divorce, mine was a picture-perfect nuclear family: a dad, a mom, a little boy, and his dog. The dog, a Cockapoo, was named after my kindergarten best friend, Shawn. I don’t remember anything about the young human Shawn, but I do remember the canine one. He was the love of my young life, especially after we moved when I was six. I did not like being “the new kid.”
Read MoreDuring Covid some people learned to bake bread, some planted gardens, others drank too much wine. My Covid experience was time with Father God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, fully aware that they were changing me. I became like the unrelenting child who asks too many questions. But my unrelenting was a prayer, “Heal my heart, Lord. Please heal my heart.” He did it when he knew I was ready.
Read MoreI define the ‘sexual orphan’ as ‘anyone who has been deprived the protection or advantage of their parents’ formative witness in regards to the physical, moral, psychological, or emotional dimensions of human sexuality because of parental divorce, separation, or neglect.
Read MoreBut my mom was human. Both my parents were human. And the very fact that in spite of the deep pain and abuse that my mom went through for most of her life, she still tried…SHE TRIED. That is the difference.
Read MoreA couple of months ago, I was attending a women’s retreat... where glossy tiles of neutrals and shades of blue formed a gorgeous mosaic of the Blessed Mother. I kept returning my gaze to it, and I heard in prayer: “I see you looking at my mother—her maternal love is so different from what you have seen… My mother is tender, approachable, truly sacrificial, and only able to love fully and purely…”
Read MoreAs a teenager, I began to experience mere anger, seemingly without any other emotion or feeling that I had no control over, and had no idea where it came from or why it would get so out of control. ... This was a tomb that I suffocated inside of for years throughout much of my adolescence.
Read MoreFive branches from the trunk of the split tree
Four girls and a fella, that’s my siblings and me
In Three years we went from complete to shut down
Two people once in love
No one left to be found
Read MoreI searched my heart for months and I accepted how I felt about this situation and made a decision. I realized that if I did not take care of them my guilt would have been much worse than I had experienced in my life. My father remained at his home with home health care and I oversaw his care. My mother eventually spent the last nine months of her life at home with my husband and me.
Read MoreAbout one year ago something very traumatic happened... My precious, amazing mom passed away... My world shattered the day that I lost her. Watching her suffer for months and being powerless to help her made me feel like I could relate in some way to our Blessed Mother, to the agony and helpless that she must have felt in watching her beloved Son die.
Read MoreFor the first time, Philothea looked at the tapestry he was creating. To her surprise, she saw it was a portrait of their family! There was Father on the left, tall and strong, with his arm around Mother on the right. In the middle in front of them both stood Philothea herself. She was surrounded by the arms of her Father and Mother, right where she belonged.
Read MoreTo give you a picture of what [childhood emotional neglect] might look like in real life, here’s my own CEN story: My mom (your mother is usually your primary attachment figure) has had schizoaffective disorder since I was about six years old. She was too deep in her own mental and emotional roller-coaster to be a stable presence.
Read MoreWhat I am about to write, I honestly thought I would go to my grave with, and never discuss it out loud. It is truly a grace that I have the courage to say what I am about to say. I want to share how I went from being a child of fear to a child of God.
Read More...my version of “forgiveness” was simple: never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. But the Lord broke through my defenses and gradually brought me back to Him through a reversion to the Catholic faith. ... When I first attended the Life-Giving Wounds retreat, my heart overflowed with awe and gratitude as I heard the truth about God’s intention for the love between mother, father, and child.
Read MoreThe movie Hope Gap recently appeared in my Amazon Prime Video recommendations, with the synopsis being that Edward (Bill Nighy) suddenly announces that he is divorcing Grace (Annette Bening) after almost thirty years. Being a child of divorce, I was quite intrigued to see how the movie approached the matter, so I broke my habit of never paying extra for movies on Amazon to find out.
Read MoreThis healing journey has been bittersweet for me. I have come to grips with the fact that I am a survivor of child abuse. The term still brings tears to my eyes and probably will for a very long time, only because it can sometimes make me feel like a broken doll, or what may be a more popular term, “damaged goods.”
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