A Backstage Pass to Life Edit Therapy: Insight #1

I grew up a few miles inland from Lake Michigan outside of a small town that still doesn’t have a stoplight. The road leading to my childhood home is satisfingly still gravel, and the maple trees still stand guard over the property’s edge. Other than a brief visit a few months earlier to connect with David, the current owner, the photo shoot was the first time in years I set foot on the land where I was raised. 

It was a warm September afternoon when my husband Jay and I arrived.  Upon exiting the car and stepping onto the gravel drive, something deep inside of me registered my physical location.  As crazy as it may sound, the parts of me that were clenched and wound tight instantly went soft like warm butter.

KD, our photographer, greeted us along with David, who, with a sweeping gesture, nudged us to roam the property, even offering the use of his Gator. I embraced the invitation. With Jay and KD  in tow, we made our way across the property.  First to greet us was the huge catalpa tree with its monstrous leaves, whose branches I often climbed or wrapped with a rope and rode like a horse. Just beyond its reach sat the big red barn with its quaint hayloft, a sprawling field where I spent endless Spring days picking asparagus, and a stand of trees that held the remains of childhood forts.  Despite being absent for years, I remembered this land, its scents, sights, sounds, and the stories it held. My body was buzzing as I tried to process all that was unfolding inside of me -the predominant emotions of great joy coupled with grief.

In the era I was raised, the use of seatbelts and bike helmets was rare. We didn’t think twice about drinking out of a garden hose, and we never used hand sanitizer.  Riding in the bed of a pickup on the way to the roller rink is one of my favorite middle school memories. We lived unburdened.

Likewise, in this era, conversations about mental health were rare. Most parents simply didn’t know about things like the importance of a secure bond between a caregiver and a child, or how a child’s brain develops over time. It wasn’t unusual for kids to be shamed for crying, feeling scared, or having trouble focusing.

Even today, many caregivers aren’t familiar with what psychology and neuroscience tell us — that our earliest relationships can shape how a child’s brain grows, how well they do in school and with friends, how they form close relationships later on, and even how they cope with stress as adults.

The stories that will unfold over the next few weeks are not about how parents and caregivers fail children.  In contrast, they will be stories that may provide context for your childhood experiences, inspire you to consider the ways you show up for the children in your life, and redeem some of the pain or regrets you may carry.  All of this will be safely wrapped up in my stories, which I hope will feel like a gift to you.

If you choose to read along, I trust you'll do so with kindness, as I offer you a backstage pass to me— the heart of Life Edit Therapy. As always, my posts are not intended as therapeutic advice or professional counseling. If you ever find yourself wondering whether therapy might be helpful for you, I encourage you to reach out to a qualified therapist.