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My Safe Place

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I recently had a blog published on The Huffington Post. It was a trimmed down version of one I’d shared here earlier that got a good response, so I took a chance and submitted it there in hopes of reaching a larger audience. 

It did end up reaching a larger audience - a much larger one. And it created lots of opportunities for me to dialogue with some great people in the foster/adopt community. I emailed with people who are very different from me, but who I was able to give a virtual “high five” to because we share a common bond. 

I felt affirmed in my hunch that a lot of foster and adoptive mamas feel alone and aren’t sure how to talk about how hard this is. These kids are worth the fight, but the weary mamas need a voice. They need to feel understood and hear that they are not alone.

I realized that so many parents can relate to my story. A lot of us know that it rarely feels like the fairy tale that it is often viewed as by the outside world. And that’s okay. We are warriors together on this hard fight, because of our love of these kids.

But in my imperfect efforts to communicate that, I also felt attacked. I was accused of some harsh things. I was called selfish, uniformed, blinded, and narcissistic. I was criticized for my faith and called some nasty names that, to my knowledge, I’ve never been called before. I had strangers say some hateful things and other strangers jump to my defense.

It hurt. I cried. I considered shutting down my blog and never being publicly vulnerable again. I felt exposed. I read comments about me where I wanted to defend myself and say, “but, but, but… this is what I really meant!” I wanted to explain that this one article was just a snapshot of our story and that I shouldn’t be judged or nitpicked based on the one thing.  

The whole experience left me feeling wounded and doing some soul searching.

When I processed through some hurt and let go of the instinct to defend myself, I was reminded of what I already know -- that I do still have a lot to learn. I need to have the humility to recognize that my story might be perceived differently than I hope for it to be. And, while those perspectives don’t have to define me, they are valid, and they can lead to growth if I allow it. I chose to share my story on a public forum, and I got an honest response, so I want to be able to take something from that.

That may sound noble and mature, but I assure you it didn’t come about overnight. I needed space to drown out the 2% that was much louder in my head than the 98%. I needed people that love me to remind me that I should keep my eyes on the bigger picture.

There are things that I’m chewing on right now as a result of the 2%, things that affect my daughter and my family, things that I want to change and be held accountable for, and areas where I want to grow. And there are also things I want to clarify, stuff I want to say that might bring clarity to things I’ve said in the past. My pride wants to say those things publicly, but my faith gives me the courage to be okay with not responding to the critics.

Some things have to stay in my safe space. 

Not everyone has earned the right to see both the zoomed in and zoomed out picture. The ones who know all the parts and layers - as well as my mistakes and contradictions within those - they are able to point that out to me in love. They are the people who see my imperfections and love me in spite of those. That friend is someone who knows the difference between a character issue and a bad day.

Vulnerability can be so difficult, and yet it is a necessary part of being known and loved. Brene Brown says that “we cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known.” 

As a writer, I put myself on display a lot. I tend to share authentically and sometimes that means that I have to do damage control after the fact. Or that my mom shares the blog I wrote about sex for a women’s ministry with her friends. Or that a stranger reads something I write that is very personal and responds in a way that is very critical. It goes with the territory.

But even though it seems as if I put it all out there, everyone isn’t on the inside. Few are privy to the details that give the fuller picture of the story, the blanks that I often want to fill in.

A few years ago someone encouraged me to be kind to all, and friend to few. Initially I didn’t understand her point because I thought it was good to be a friend to everyone. I was trying to cultivate deep friendships that didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped they would and it made me feel very insecure. I was searching for close personal relationships in an area where it was better for me to have some distance.

The older and wiser me can now appreciate the wisdom that my truest self needs to be reserved for my safe place. In my life I have gone from being someone who never showed the real me and always tried to be who I thought others expected me to be, to swinging in the far opposite direction where I put it all out there for anybody and everybody in my attempts to be known and understood. I’m finally learning how to settle into that sweet spot where I recognize the beauty of community and authenticity, but also the importance of discretion and a circle of trust.

It’s a good place to be as I enter into a season where I am just mommy to Londynn. I’m not a foster mom, she’s not a ward of the state, and I don’t answer to any kind of caseworker. I’m just her mother, and she’s just my daughter. My hope is that vulnerability would be a place of healing for us both, but I know I’m going to mess that up along the way. I do have an opportunity and an outlet to bring awareness about fostering and adoption, but I also have an obligation to communicate our story in a way that protects my child and honors her. The bigger community allows me to share the ups and downs of my story and show my imperfections and inadequacies along the way, but the people in my safe place are the ones that can keep me on the hook for doing it honorably.

I wouldn’t recommend being vulnerable on a large stage, but I would recommend finding the courage to allow yourself to be seen. When we have our people who know and love us in spite of the ups and downs, it frees us up from the need to defend ourselves in the face of our critics or those in our lives who see the world differently than we do. The safe people, the inner circle, the girlfriends who know my strengths and my weaknesses, the family members who know how unlikely it is that this would be my story… they are the ones who keep me going, who hold up my arms when I want to give up.

This has been my struggle over the last year, but it isn't a foster/adopt thing. It's a relationship thing, a community thing. Whatever circumstance we find ourselves in - loving life, struggling in the trenches, or somewhere in between - we need those voices that have earned the right to meet us where we are and give us a big hug, an "I'm proud of you," or a reality check. Life can be hard, you know?  We can't do it alone.

So friends, find that safe place. Hug those people. Tell them you love them.

They are a gift.

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