faith

darnold1975

Dear Allies: The Gays Salute You With Both Hands And A Fan Snap

“I’m not saying I’m dramatic. But if God wanted me to stay calm, he wouldn’t have given me this much personality and this many conservative relatives.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Today we’re gathering around the communal table to honor a sacred, undercelebrated, and deeply cherished group of humans. Our allies. The real ones. Not the “I posted a rainbow square once in 2020” crowd. Not the “I love you but don’t tell my pastor” crowd. Not the “thoughts and prayers for your eternal soul” crowd who clutch their prayer list so hard they leave dents.

I’m talking about the folks who show up when nobody’s watching. The ones who defend us without needing applause, cameras, or a political campaign ad with soft piano music and a bald eagle crying in the background. The ones who embody actual Christianity. The kind Jesus practiced before it got franchised. Monetized. And turned into a small‑town HOA with a pulpit.

Piper has already hopped on the counter and declared, “Finally. A blog about the humans who actually act right.” Tinkerbell is nodding solemnly like a tiny furry deacon. Coco is passing out imaginary communion wafers made of Temptations treats.

And me? I’m over here emotional because these allies, the everyday saints, remind us that our souls aren’t one color. Our souls are a rainbow quilt that is stitched together with joy, grief, glitter, and generational resilience. Humanity was always meant to be fabulous. Some folks just missed the memo while they were too busy policing everyone else’s salvation.

To our allies who stand up for us in grocery store aisles, family dinners, church parking lots, and in group chats where the bigots get bold. And we see you. You don’t do it for credit. You don’t do it for clout. You don’t do it because it’s trendy. You do it because your moral compass isn’t powered by fear, shame, or whatever Fox News is microwaving that day. You do it because you know love is supposed to be lived. Not legislated.

You do it because you understand that Jesus wasn’t white, wealthy, or sponsored by the pulpit politics committee. You do it because you know that if Jesus showed up today, half these conservative Christians would call the cops on him for wearing sandals and hanging out with marginalized people. You do it because you know the difference between performative faith and actual compassion. And the difference is louder than a praise band with a broken sound system.

Meanwhile, some conservative Christians are out here condemning queer folks by day and conducting their secret lives in the dark night of shadows like they’re auditioning for a low‑budget soap opera. Piper said, “Mama, the hypocrisy is giving mildew.” Tinkerbell added, “It’s giving spiritual swamp water.” And  Coco simply hissed and walked away. Honestly, they’re honesty felt like Scripture.

Tinkerbell (the eldest emotionally, the judge, the one who has seen things): “First of all, thank you to the allies who defend my mama like she’s the last biscuit at a Baptist potluck. Y’all are the reason she walks around this house with her shoulders back and her spirit moisturized. I watch everything from the top of the fridge. And trust me. The world needs more of you and fewer people who weaponize Scripture like it’s a coupon they clipped wrong.”

Piper (chaotic, believes she is a pastor): “I would like to personally thank the allies who understand that Jesus hung out with the marginalized. And not the HOA board of conservative Christianity. If Jesus came back today, half these folks would call the police because he looks ‘suspicious.’ And the other half would ask him to sign their Bible like it’s a meet‑and‑greet. But you allies would offer him a seat, a snack, and a safe place to rest. That’s ministry.”

Coco (the one who knocks things over for emphasis): “Thank you for clapping back at bigots with the precision of a cat swatting a glass off a counter. Thank you for knowing that love is louder than hypocrisy. And that closets are for coats, not people. Also, I knocked over that decorative cross because the energy felt off. You’re welcome.”

Piper (interrupting): “And let’s be clear. The allies who show up quietly and don’t need applause, y’all are the real disciples. Meanwhile, some folks out here preaching purity while living double lives that smell like unwashed secrets and expired communion juice.”

Tinkerbell (fanning herself with an imaginary church program): “It’s always the loudest ones who have the most to hide. But our allies? They’re out here living the gospel without needing to weaponize it. They’re out here loving people like Jesus actually instructed. They’re out here doing the work while others are doing theatrics.”

Coco (dramatically rolling onto her back): “Thank you for loving my mama in ways that make her laugh. Breathe easier. And feel safe. Thank you for being the humans she trusts. Thank you for being the reason she doesn’t hiss at the world like I do.”

And before this blog sashays off the stage in a cloud of glitter and righteous truth. My cats insisted, loudly, dramatically, and with the authority of three tiny elders, that they get the final word.

Piper (tail flicking like a church lady’s fan): “Thank you, allies. Without you, Mama wouldn’t have had the courage to build the life she has now. And without that life, we wouldn’t have our brothers. The chaotic, beloved, biscuit‑stealing boys who complete this household circus.”

Tinkerbell (paws folded like she’s about to deliver a sermon): “Y’all didn’t just stand up for Mama. You stood beside her. And because of that, this rainbow‑stitched, Southern‑chaotic, cat‑ruled family, exists exactly as it should. Our brothers are here because you helped create a world where love could breathe.”

Coco (rolling dramatically onto her back again for emphasis): “Thank you for giving Mama the safety and strength to choose love boldly. And because of you, we have brothers to wrestle, cuddle, judge, and occasionally blame for things we definitely did.”

To every ally who shows up without needing a spotlight, thank you. Thank you for representing the Jesus who loved without conditions, fear, or a PR team. Thank you for knowing that our souls shimmer in every color ever created. Thank you for standing in the gap when the world gets loud, cruel, or hypocritical.

And to the conservative Christians who are more performative than biblical? Your secret life is showing. And it’s not giving Beatitudes. Our allies are out here living the gospel without needing to weaponize it. They’re out here loving us in ways that heal generational wounds. And they’re out here proving that humanity, at its best, is a rainbow. 

All three, in a furry chorus of gratitude, “Thank you for helping build the home we nap in. The love we live in. And the family we purr in.” And with that, the cats have spoken. The rainbow has shimmered. The truth has been told. The gays salute you with both hands. A fan snap. And three very grateful cats. Piper has closed her laptop. Tinkerbell has said “Amen.” Coco has knocked over another decorative cross for emphasis.

And me? I’m ending this with a fan snap. A grateful heart. And a truth that cannot be dimmed. Real allies don’t just stand with us. They help us rise. Spirit moisturized. Rainbow restored. Thanks for reading! And Happy Pride Everyone Especially Our Allies! 

Affirmation: Today, I walk in my truth, glitter, and my God‑given audacity. I am loved. Protected. And too fabulous to be bothered by anyone who still thinks ‘rainbow’ is a political statement.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Divine Blueprint Includes Queer People and Zero Homophobia

“If God made us in the divine image. Then queerness is not a rebellion. It’s a reflection.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Today, we’re not just cleansing the room. We’re cleansing the ignorance. We’re diving into the science of being gay. Which is the most Southern thing ever. 

Everybody’s got an opinion. Nobody’s read the research. Half the town swears they “just know” because their cousin’s friend’s nephew once wore a sequined vest to Vacation Bible School. And trustmebro.com is their only source.

Unlike the folks who think sexual orientation is a “lifestyle choice,” we’re going straight to the biology, the hormones, the genetics, the epigenetics, and the brain science. And yes, science says queer folks aren’t broken, confused, rebellious, or possessed by a demon named Carl. We’re just built this way. Literally. Cellularly. Hormonally. Neurobiologically. Now let’s get into it.

Scientists have found that sexual orientation has genetic components. This means that some of us were coded a little extra fabulous from the jump. Research shows multiple genes contribute to sexual orientation. Sorry but it’s not a single “gay gene” that’s being held responsible. It’s a constellation of them. Think of it like a queer genetic gumbo. A little chromosome spice here. A little epigenetic roux there.

 Source: ArcGIS Story Maps overview of genetics, hormones, and neurobiology in sexual orientation 

Epigenetics is basically the universe’s way of saying, “Let me sprinkle a little glitter on these genes and see what happens.” Epigenetic markers can influence how genes express themselves. Especially those involved in sexual differentiation and attraction. These markers can be shaped by hormones, environment, and developmental timing. They don’t rewrite your DNA. They just DJ the playlist.

Source: Chapter on epigenetics and sexual orientation from UCLA researchers 

Before you ever took your first breath, your brain was marinating in a hormonal jambalaya. And those hormones? They matter a lot. Studies show that prenatal hormone exposure, especially androgens, plays a major role in shaping later sexual orientation.These hormones influence brain structures tied to attraction. And they help determine whether your brain lights up like a Christmas tree for men, women, both, or neither.

Source: Prenatal hormone theory of sexual orientation 

Neuroscience research shows differences in brain regions related to attraction, behavior, and sensory processing. These differences aren’t “defects.” They’re natural variations. They show up consistently across studies, across cultures, and across time.

Source: OpenStax Behavioral Neuroscience on sex-linked brain differences 

The most accurate scientific conclusion? Sexual orientation is shaped by genetics, hormones, brain development, and environment. It’s a complex, beautiful interplay that makes each queer person a one‑of‑a‑kind masterpiece.

Source: University Observer on genetics + environment in sexual orientation 

Here comes the cat‑powered theological commentary you didn’t know you needed but absolutely deserved. 

Your living room. Sage still smoking. Charcoal still glowing. You’re typing. And the cats have convened an emergency meeting of the Queer Science & Spirituality Committee.

Tinkerbell (Union Rep, Conspiracy Theorist): “Alright, everyone, settle down. We need to address the ongoing crisis. Conservative humans still think Bible verses are part of the genetic code.”

Piper (Chaotic Neutral Gremlin):  “Honestly, I checked the genome myself. Not a single verse. Not even a stray Corinthians. Just DNA doing its thing like it’s supposed to.”

Coco (CEO, Sunbeam High Priestess): “Yeah, but conservatives act like chromosomes come pre‑loaded with Leviticus. Like God was up there knitting embryos saying, ‘Let me just stitch in a little homophobia for flavor.’”

Tinkerbell: “Exactly. Meanwhile, real Christians, the ones with functioning empathy, are over here like, ‘Science exists. Biology is real. Love your neighbor. Stop weaponizing scripture like it’s a Nerf gun with anger issues.’”

Piper: “And let’s be clear. Bible verses are not molecules. They’re not proteins. They’re not alleles. They’re not epigenetic markers. They’re not even in the mitochondria. And that’s the drama queen of the cell.”

Coco: “Bible verses are opinions written down a long time ago that conservatives now use like emotional nunchucks.”

Tinkerbell: “Exactly. They’re not part of anyone’s genetic makeup. They’re part of someone’s political makeup.”

Piper: “And the anger? Whew. That’s not holy. That’s not righteous. That’s not divine. That’s just unresolved childhood issues marinated in Fox News.”

Coco: “Real Christians aren’t out here screaming at gay people. Real Christians are like, ‘Hey, science is cool. Love is cool. Jesus literally never said anything about queer folks. Y’all need a nap.’”

Tinkerbell: “Honestly, if conservatives want to talk about genetics, they should start with the hereditary nature of minding your own business.

Piper: “Science says gay people exist naturally.” 

Tinkerbell: “Faith says love your neighbor.” 

Coco: “Conservatives say whatever their pastor yelled last Sunday.”

And that’s the absurdity of it all. The cats have spoken. The meeting is adjourned. Snacks will be served in the kitchen.

Let’s just go ahead and say the quiet part with our whole diaphragm. If theology is correct. If we are truly made in the image of God. Then God’s image is not some beige, monotone, heterosexual stick figure with a side part and a fear of sequins. No. Absolutely not. The math ain’t mathing.

Because if queer people exist. And we do, loudly, beautifully, and biologically. Then queerness is not a glitch in the system. It’s part of the blueprint. Which means God’s image includes queer joy, queer love, queer brilliance, queer softness, queer resilience, queer creativity, and queer fabulousness. If we’re reflections of the divine? Then the divine must contain all the colors we carry. And that’s a lot of colors.

Let’s talk about the rainbow for a second. Conservatives love to act like queer folks “stold” it. As if we broke into Heaven’s craft closet and ran off with God’s Crayola box. But if God created the rainbow. And theology says God did. Then God created a symbol of diversity, beauty, and spectrum. A spectrum of light. A spectrum of identity. A spectrum of creation.

And you’re telling me the same God who painted the sky with a multicolored arc after a storm didn’t know that one day queer people would claim it as our banner? Please. God knew exactly what God was doing. The rainbow is divine foreshadowing. A cosmic wink. A holy Easter egg. A celestial “just wait, y’all.”

If God’s image includes all of humanity. Then queer people aren’t the exception. We’re the evidence. The evidence that God loves variety. The evidence that creation is not limited to one shape, one love, or one expression. The evidence that the divine is not threatened by color, complexity, or creativity.

Queer people are the parts of God’s image that sparkle. The parts that dance. The parts that refuse to shrink. The parts that remind the world that holiness isn’t about conformity. It’s about authenticity. Queer people are the divine’s flair. God’s glitter. God’s jazz hands. God’s reminder that creation is supposed to be vibrant, not beige.

Not the corporate kind. Not the “rainbow logo in June only” kind. Not the “love the sinner, hate the sin” kind. I mean the real kind. The kind who understands science. The kind who celebrates diversity. The kind who doesn’t weaponize scripture to justify fear. The kind who looks at queer people and says, “Yes. I made you. And I made you on purpose.”

If we’re made in God’s image. Then God’s image includes every queer soul who has ever existed in past, present, and future. Which means God is not just a Pride ally. God is the original Pride ally.

The first one to paint the sky in rainbow. The first one to celebrate diversity. The first one to say, “Let there be light.” And then break that light into a spectrum.

The next time someone says, “Being gay is a choice.” Smile sweetly. Bless their heart. And say, “The only choice I made today was whether to wear the boots or the heels. My sexual orientation was assembled in the womb like a limited‑edition collector’s item.” Let the science do the talking. Being gay isn’t a phase, a fad, or a political statement. It’s biology. And biology don’t lie.

So here we are. Charcoal glowing like an altar to common sense. Sage swirling like ancestral Wi‑Fi. And the cats still muttering about conservatives trying to splice Leviticus into the double helix like it’s a DIY craft project.

The science is clear. The biology is clear. The genetics, the hormones, the brain structures are all clear. The only thing foggy is the worldview of people who think sexual orientation is a rebellious phase. But their own anger is a divine calling.

Bible verses are not molecules. They are not nucleotides. They are not tucked between adenine and thymine like a passive‑aggressive Post‑it from God. They’re words. Words that can heal or harm depending on who’s holding them. And conservatives have been swinging them around like rusty machetes. And trying to carve their fear into other people’s lives.

But the real Christians. The ones who actually read the parts about compassion, humility, and minding your own business, they just know better. They know science isn’t the enemy. They know biology isn’t propaganda. They know Jesus didn’t come down here to micromanage who anyone loves. Real Christians don’t need queer people to shrink so they can feel tall. They don’t need to weaponize scripture to justify their discomfort. They don’t need to pretend their prejudice is holy.

They understand something conservatives keep tripping over. Faith and science are not rivals. They are two different languages describing the same universe. One is poetic. One is empirical. And both are pointing toward truth.

And the truth is this. Queer people exist because nature made us. Biology shaped us. And diversity is the signature of life itself. We are not mistakes. We are not warnings. We are not tests of anyone’s faith. We are living, breathing evidence that creation loves variety.

Bless the room. Bless the science. Bless the ancestors. Bless the queer babies still figuring out their shine. And to anyone still clinging to ignorance like it’s a family heirloom, may your heart soften. Your mind open. And your Bible fall open to literally any page that isn’t being used as a weapon. The science is settled. The spirit is settled. And the cats are settled. And the only unsettled thing left is the people who can’t handle the truth that queerness is natural, holy, and here to stay. Thanks for reading! Happy Pride Yall!

Affirmation: I am a radiant, intentional part of creation. My identity is not a mistake, phase, or a debate. It is a divine color in the spectrum of existence. And I shine without apology.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

He Is Risen. And So Is My Blood Pressure Watching Christians Misquote Scripture Again

“If Jesus didn’t need help rising from the dead, He definitely doesn’t need help judging His children.”

-This Puzzled Life

 Let the ancestors lean in. And the nonsense scatter like roaches when the kitchen light flips on. I’m clearing the air. Clearing my spirit. And clearing out anybody who came in here with judgmental energy, weaponized scripture, or a Facebook theology degree. Today we’re telling the truth with love, humor, and just enough Southern heat to make the devil fan himself.

Every year, Easter rolls around and suddenly half the conservative Christians in the South start acting like they’ve been personally hired by Jesus HR to conduct performance reviews on the entire population. They show up to church in pastel outfits so loud they could blind a deacon armed with judgment, casserole, and a Bible verse they skimmed once during Vacation Bible School in 1994.

Meanwhile, Jesus is over here like, “I rose from the dead to bring hope and liberation. Not to watch y’all turn my message into a neighborhood watch program for people who don’t look, love, or live like you.” But bless their hearts. They really believe Easter is about policing everyone else’s salvation. Like Jesus outsourced His job to a committee of pearl‑clutchers with Wi‑Fi.

Easter is supposed to be the celebration of renewal, liberation, and radical compassion. He was a man who literally washed feet. Fed strangers. And hung out with the outcasts. And provided a message of hope for the poor, the hungry, the immigrant, the traumatized, the eccentric, the ethnically diverse, and the folks society shoved to the margins.

Jesus was the original “bring everybody to the table” host. He didn’t ask for dress codes, doctrinal purity, or a background check. He said, “Come as you are.” And meant it. Not “Come as you are, unless Brenda doesn’t approve of your haircut.”

Somewhere along the way, though, a whole crowd of folks decided Jesus needed personal judges. A volunteer morality police. A neighborhood watch for rainbow flags. A holiness HOA. A spiritual TSA checkpoint. And they signed up like it was a Black Friday sale.

They twist His words like balloon animals. Weaponize scripture like it’s a Nerf gun. And act like Jesus is running a multi‑level marketing scheme where the top sellers get a crown and a parking spot in heaven. They weaponize His teachings against LGBTQIA+ folks, immigrants, people of color, the poor, or anyone who doesn’t fit their “approved” mold.

And then they have the audacity, the sheer sanctified audacity, to say they’re doing it “in Jesus’ name.” Jesus didn’t ask for helpers. He didn’t post a job listing for “Assistant Judge. An unpaid internship where you must hate fun.” If anything, he said the opposite such as, “Sit down. Be humble. Love people. And stop acting like you’re the CEO of Heaven’s HR department.”

Let’s talk about the rainbow for a second. Conservative Christians love to act like the rainbow was stolen, borrowed, or misused by queer folks. Jesus made the rainbow. The gays just accessorized it better. And queer folks are honoring the original design with more creativity, joy, and community than the people who claim ownership of it. If Jesus didn’t want the rainbow to be a symbol of diversity, unity, and hope, he wouldn’t have made it look like the world’s happiest flag.

Jesus was pro‑poor, pro‑immigrant, pro‑outcast, pro‑community, pro‑healing, pro‑inclusion, and pro‑“stop being hateful and go feed somebody.” He was the original DEI ( Diversity, Equity, Inclusion) department. Long before corporate America slapped it on a PowerPoint slide. He didn’t need a committee. He didn’t need a board vote. He didn’t need a church newsletter. He just did the work.

Christians love to toss around the phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner” like it fell straight out of Jesus’ mouth and onto a Hobby Lobby wall sign. But it did not. That line is nowhere in the Bible. Not in Genesis. Not in Psalms. Not in Leviticus. And not even hidden in the fine print of Revelation. The idea is loosely connected to Christian teachings. Sure. The actual phrase traces back to St. Augustine of Hippo in 424 AD. And it didn’t get its modern glow‑up until Mahatma Gandhi repeated a version of it centuries later. So, if folks want to use it, fine. But let’s stop pretending it’s scripture when it’s clearly not. As one source puts it, the exact phrase simply isn’t in the Bible (Catholic.com, 2026). In other words, quit assigning Jesus quotes he never said. Especially when they’re being used as a permission slip for judgment.

This Easter, let’s remember what actually happened. A brown, Middle‑Eastern, homeless, anti‑authoritarian healer rose from the dead to liberate humanity. Not to give conservative Christians a seasonal excuse to cosplay as Heaven’s security guards. Easter is about resurrection. Not regulation. Liberation. Not legislation. Compassion. Not condemnation.

If Jesus wanted personal judges, he would’ve hired them. Instead, he told everybody to love their neighbor and mind their business. Let’s celebrate Easter the way Jesus intended. With open arms, hearts, tables, and absolutely no volunteer applications for Assistant Judge of the Universe. He’s got that job covered. And the rainbow says the gays are doing just fine. Thanks for reading! Stay spiritually focus instead of judgmental.

Affirmation: I walk in the kind of love, compassion, and radical inclusion Jesus actually taught. Not the edited, fear‑based version some folks try to pass off as scripture.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Episcopalian Who Out‑Christianed the Christians: A Mississippi Testimony

“Real Christianity isn’t loud. It’s loving. And sometimes the holiest thing you can do is tell the powerful to stop hurting people.”

-This Puzzled Life

 Light the charcoal. Let it sizzle like it’s overheard one too many “I’m not racist, but-” conversations at a Mississippi church potluck. Today, we’re talking about a real Christian. Not the “I love Jesus but hate all his friends” variety we keep tripping over like abandoned folding chairs after a revival. We’re talking about Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde. A woman who doesn’t just quote Jesus. She actually acts like she’s met Him. And down here in the Deep South where some folks treat cruelty like it’s a spiritual gift and Trump like he’s the fourth member of the Trinity. That alone makes her a miracle.

When this current administration kicked off, conservative Christians across Mississippi were out here praising every act of political meanness like it was a new hymn added to the Baptist hymnal. Meanwhile, Bishop Budde, an Episcopalian with more backbone than a whole deacon board, stepped forward and said, “Sir, this cruelty is not of Christ.”

She didn’t whisper it. She didn’t hint at it. She didn’t hide behind “thoughts and prayers” like some folks do when they’re scared of losing tithe money. She pleaded. She begged. She called for mercy. Not for herself. But for the people who always get hit first and hardest. The black communities, brown communities, LGBTQ+ folks, immigrants, and anyone the powerful find convenient to step on.

While some pastors were busy auditioning to be Trump’s spiritual hype squad. Bishop Budde was out here saying, “Jesus didn’t die for y’all to act like this.” And she said it with the calm, steady authority of a woman who has held too many grieving families to ever confuse political power with moral truth.

Let me tell you something Mississippi already knows but refuses to admit. If Jesus came back tomorrow, half these conservative churches would call the police on Him before they offered Him a casserole. But Bishop Budde? She’d hand Him the pulpit and say, “Tell them what love really looks like.”

She doesn’t preach the Gospel like it’s a weapon. She preaches it like it’s a lifeline. Because it is. She doesn’t cherry‑pick scripture like she’s making a fruit salad. She doesn’t confuse judgment with holiness. She doesn’t treat marginalized people like theological inconveniences. She practices the radical hospitality Jesus modeled. Not the selective hospitality some folks down here prefer.

And that’s why her receiving the Trailblazer Award for Empowerment & Excellence at the 2026 Women of Impact Summit wasn’t just deserved. It was overdue. She didn’t win because she’s loud. She won because she’s consistent. She won because she’s courageous. She won because she’s Christ‑like in a world where that’s become rare enough to be newsworthy.

If conservative Christians in the Deep South ever paused their praise‑break for political cruelty long enough to listen, Bishop Budde could teach them a thing or two. Like Christianity is not a sport where you score points by judging strangers. That mercy is not weakness. That compassion is not political. That loving your neighbor doesn’t come with a footnote. That Jesus didn’t ask for campaign volunteers. He asked for disciples. But learning requires humility. And humility is in shorter supply around here than snow days.

So, here’s to Bishop Mariann Budde. The woman who stood up when others sat down. Who spoke truth when others swallowed it. And who practiced the Gospel while others weaponized it. While some folks were busy turning Christianity into a political fan club. She was out here reminding the world that love is the only theology Jesus ever graded. And if Mississippi ever wants to see what true Christianity looks like, it doesn’t need another rally. Another sermon about “family values,” or another yard sign. It just needs to look at Bishop Budde. A trailblazer. A truth‑teller. And living proof that the Gospel still has a pulse. Amen. Pass the cornbread. And somebody tell the deacons to sit down. The real Christians are speaking. Thanks for reading! What are your thoughts about the Bishop?

Affirmation: I stand firm in my truth. Rooted in compassion. Unbothered by cruelty. And guided by a love that refuses to shrink for anyone.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Promise

“Don’t be afraid to celebrate a promise when kept. In doing so, you’re the potential for a better world.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, much better. Today I am going to write about a recent occurrence in therapy. Through some recent events, therapy has led in the direction to tackle my core issues about my adoption. Truly I can say that it’s not a day that I have been looking towards with excitement. It is so necessary, in fact, that I still shiver about how painful it will be. For those that don’t know, it is a topic so strong and powerful that the thought of it makes me want to vomit. However, it’s something that has caused a dark cloud to follow me in every facet of my and for the majority of my life. The very mention of the topic causes a retraction that is so instantaneous and powerful, that I don’t feel that I have a weapon in my arsenal strong enough to stand a chance against its negativity. 

I have trusted my coach on so many occasions for when it would be the appropriate timing to tackle different traumatic events. But the timing of this one, I would soon realize that no matter when she would decide on that “perfecting timing” it would never be convenient. I have written and spoken about it many times. And most of the time, I do so from my brain instead of my heart. I knew instantly that it would require a level of trust that I struggle to accept. After 8 years of doing therapy with her, I should know and feel that it’s been long enough to tackle the “primal wound.”  And I ashamedly still don’t know if I’m ready. I get some specifics about the plan, and I sit with the idea for a few days knowing that coach has never led me astray. And she ALWAYS has my best interest at hand. 

A few days went by, and I decided that no matter how scared, I would at least try. Seeing the strength and compassion in her eyes that I felt when I first met her told me that everything would be “ok” despite the agonizing pain. The biggest protector in my “system” of many distinct parts of myself is held by a 13-year-old that would give anyone a run for their money. She has protected me so many times from total annihilation on so many and very distinct levels. And this time would be no different. Once she realized that I had agreed to do the work, she immediately began throwing up roadblocks. The infant part of me is the most ferociously defended of any type of perceived threat. And I told “coach” what has been occurring. This defender is “top notch” at keeping me safe. But will also sabotage things out of fear. Some of her tactics were immensely helpful during traumatic events. However, she is still reactive during peace time. And this causes therapeutic roadblocks that can throw a “monkey wrench” in about any plan.

Coach and I begin the session with some guided imagery that helps me to prepare for the monumental task before us. What I begin to see is that this “protector” is holding hostage the newborn baby part. And she has always been inconsolable. No matter the situation, this little baby is like a an infant with colic. There is nothing that has helped her agonizing cries EVER! There is no amount of compassion that has been able to comfort her. She is non-verbal but her emotions are so uncategorical that I am not able to capture it with words. I am not able to listen to lullabies or tolerate the sound of a baby crying. When the boys were little their cries flew all over me. But at that time, I didn’t know how to do anything but run from the situation. I thought to myself, “How do people deal with a baby crying both inside their heads and as parents. What I didn’t know, at that time, was that “normal” people don’t hear things like that. I wouldn’t understand my pain until I understood the reason for the crying. And then one day the “A-HA” moment happened. She was retracting from the pain that occurred when me and my “birth mom” separated.

When I met my birth mom many years ago, she said to me what I had always feared, “You were an inconvenient then and you still are!” I can’t tell you how bad that hurt. And I still can’t understand how that must’ve felt like for a newborn baby. I could, however, understand what it was like for a 30-year-old adult. It was absolutely the worst pain imaginable. The rejection was like no other situation that I had experienced. And to put that much fear and pain on a little bitty baby was something that I would have to find healing from at some point. 

I tried everything I could think of to fill that hole to bring me some level of comfort. I have tried drugs, alcohol, self-harm, relationships and nothing was strong enough. Coach would have the answers. But would I have the courage to step out on faith and take her hand as guidance once more? Not long ago I would speak with a resounding, “NO!” What I didn’t know was how very quickly I would change that lifetime of pain with a different answer.

“Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.”

-Voltaire

***Don’t forget to watch the video at the bottom***

#Thispuzzledlife