When reflecting on my childhood, I realize there are many gaps. I have friends who fondly reminisce about birthday cakes, princess-themed bedding, and carefree playtime with Barbies. They can vividly recall their mother’s attire at graduation or their father’s emotional reaction on their first date—beautiful snippets of their past that play out like a colorful film.
For me, however, the memories are fragmented. I can recall certain loud, chaotic moments, but much of my childhood feels like a blank canvas, with dark patches in my memory that I struggle to fill in. It resembles a jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces.
The memories I do have are steeped in chaos. I grew up in a divorced household where my parents tried their best for my sisters and me, but as is often the case with divorces, things were never simple. I grappled with the notion of being the child from a broken home. We moved frequently, my parents argued often about money, and instability permeated our lives, affecting each family member in various ways.
As the youngest of three, I felt more like a pawn in my parents’ struggles than a cherished child. I was passed between my mother and father, often viewed as a prize to be won rather than a person to be nurtured. I longed for someone to recognize how deeply our family conflicts would affect me in the long run. Parents often juggle the present with what the future holds for their children, but it can be challenging to foresee how every word and action will resonate later.
During my childhood, we relocated six times, sometimes staying with family friends. Financial disputes were a constant backdrop, and my siblings faced their own health challenges. I lost my paternal grandmother at a young age, and my father suffered a stroke, followed by a bacterial infection that kept him in the ICU for two years before he passed away. I became a familiar face at the local hospital, knowing the food court menu by heart and where to find the coziest blankets.
Now, as an adult, my life is vastly different from those tumultuous early years. I am financially secure, holding a bachelor’s, a master’s, and a post-master’s license. I have two flourishing careers, two delightful dogs, and a supportive boyfriend. I enjoy cooking delicious meals and have cultivated a small circle of inspiring friends.
Yet, despite these accomplishments, I find myself struggling to cope with stability. I feel completely out of my element when everything is going well. In times of happiness, I instinctively brace for something to go wrong, convinced that good fortune always comes with a hidden catch. I often undermine my own joy, unable to comprehend how to simply exist in calmness.
As I observe my peers embracing marriage and parenthood with joy, I am excited for them, but I also fear that I might disrupt my own happiness by seeking chaos where there is none.
Psychologists frequently discuss narratives like mine. Research indicates that growing up in chaotic environments can leave individuals in a constant state of “fight or flight.” This anxiety becomes so normalized that it feels natural. For me, feelings of unease and chaos are akin to revisiting an old neighborhood; they define my comfort zone.
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- How to cope with a chaotic childhood as an adult?
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- Understanding the effects of divorce on children
In summary, my chaotic upbringing has left me feeling ill-equipped to handle stability in adulthood. While my life has improved in many ways, I still grapple with the comfort of chaos and the fear of maintaining happiness. Acknowledging these struggles is a crucial step in my journey to find peace.