I am a proud mother of two beautiful children, a graduate of higher education, and an experienced professional. I have a successful career as a Speech Language Pathologist and I own my own business, but I also have a traumatic past. In spite of my immense progress, growth, and successes, way down in the abyss that is my deepest being, the shadows still exist and more often than I like, they come out to haunt me. But I continue to find light in unexpected ways – most recently through my children.
My daughter Taylor is a spitfire ball of energy ready to combust at any given moment. And she radiates with light. Recently I have begun a different part of my healing journey in which I find myself FEELING emotions about my childhood experiences that I have not felt before. My history is no longer just a series of stories and events to be recalled and told without emotion as if they never happened to ME. Lately these feelings manifest in the form of tears. Just this week, Taylor caught me in one of these moments. Immediately her voice and facial expressions changed to show concerns as she asked “Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Not wanting to burden her, I initially said very little. She begged “Please tell me. I can handle it. I promise”—followed by, “You’re going to be okay” as she gently stroked my arm. After I explained in very simple terms that I had a hard childhood she said, “You’re a great mom. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll hold you.” And she did.
My son Morgan radiates light in a different way. He has been the key to unlocking my power to live again and he has given me the freedom to feel. With Morgan’s birth, I experienced an immediate rush of peace and rest. Suddenly a series of burdens were lifted from me—fear, doubt, and sadness, all propelled away. Every day as I watch Morgan grow, I am reminded of the good in life. In these moments, I am no longer plagued with uncertainty, fear, and doubt. I see that happiness and joy exist and I am free to pursue them. When I look at my son and he smiles back at me, laughs, or crawls over to me, I know that life is good. My past filled with fears and insecurity slips away. The voices in my head that tell me everything’s wrong cease. And in those moments, I stand firm, centered in who I am as a person —family member, professional, friend. In those moments, I find peace.
—Sarah Blanchard