With being an Adult Child of Divorce comes a healing journey that is complicated and messy, at best. This is the most succinct way to describe my own personal healing journey. It is one that I am very much still on, but I know that I am healing and am on the up and up. Like you, my journey has not been linear by any stretch of the imagination. It is one of many turns, bumps and painful feelings resurfacing—but that is because I, like you, am still healing. Healing is not linear;  however, the healing journey is always oriented towards heaven, so we are always headed heavenward in our healing. In this post, I will share six points that have been instrumental and life-changing—for me—in my journey towards healing.

In life, more often than not, we do not get the apology that is due to us. And when we do, it frequently falls short of the words we need to hear. I have come to realize, for my personal situation, there are no words big enough, or deep enough, or sincere enough to compensate for what has been stolen from me.  With this realization, I finally stopped asking and waiting for the apology that does not exist. My pastor says, “It takes one to forgive.  And it takes two for reconciliation.  One can forgive without reconciliation, but one cannot have reconciliation without forgiveness.” I chose forgiveness.

Jesus has called me to serve Him now, and our community, in attending to the Eucharist.  Christ asked me to be a Eucharistic Minister in the fall of 2021.  I love being a Eucharistic Minister! I serve at Mass as well as bring the Eucharist to the sick and homebound.  Being spiritually and physically this close to Christ during mass, adoration, as well as bringing the Eucharist to the sick, has provided me much intimate time with Christ, where I have  received much healing grace as an ACOD.  And I know that Christ is guiding me to new ways to serve and attend to Him in the Eucharist. 

Though I hid, self-protected and continued to wear the masks that I thought gave me some value, Jesus never stopped seeking the real me underneath.  He never abandoned me.  All the while, He was patiently working on me, preparing my very calloused and guarded heart to be broken again through the second loss of my dad.  But this break would be healing and redemptive, because it would finally let Love Himself enter in.  And He came in through another father, His father and now mine – Good St. Joseph.  I truly believe everything started with my simple prayer after that providential homily.  St. Joseph became the guardian of my healing journey and continues to be my strong and faithful pillar along the way, in both explicit and sometimes hidden ways.

I desire to make decisions from a place of authentic love and not respond from the wounds of my past and present. Wounds that make me feel trapped—make me feel like I do not have a choice in the matter— with no control. For this reason, when I first heard about St. Josephine Bakhita, I was drawn to her: a woman who was kidnapped as a child, sold into slavery, and ultimately lived in the freedom of the Lord’s love as a religious sister.

Upon entering religious life, I tried to hide in the coping mechanisms that had worked for me growing up, such as people-pleasing and anticipating others’ needs. I desired to please the Lord, could follow community customs and was good at serving others. Not only was I good, but was praised for my attentiveness to the needs of others and my generosity in service. As I continued further in formation, those coping mechanisms started to unravel and the truth of the pain I was in surfaced.

From day one it seemed like my parents were divided over my name. Well at least my first name because both of them shared the same last name before marriage. Each parent wanted me to be named after their dad. As a result, one side of the family calls me David and the other Andrew. By the time I was four, this division was complete and definitive by way of their divorce. As most children of divorce, I certainly felt divided and split in two; exemplified by my two different beds, two different sets of clothes, two different sets of toys and two different first names. 

...my version of “forgiveness” was simple: never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. But the Lord broke through my defenses and gradually brought me back to Him through a reversion to the Catholic faith. ... When I first attended the Life-Giving Wounds retreat, my heart overflowed with awe and gratitude as I heard the truth about God’s intention for the love between mother, father, and child.

When the home is shattered by the brokenness of divorce, one must boldly turn to the Church. And so, for those leaders in the Church who come into contact with adult children of divorce, here are five ways that you can help bring them Christ’s healing truth.

This year, my husband went on a Life-Giving Wounds retreat, and I am now forever grateful to this ministry. My husband left with a lack of understanding of his pain and his story, but returned to me and our family with the gifts of knowledge of himself and his pain, and a deeper understanding of his story. He was understood on the level of the heart that only something like this ministry can give. He came home with a correction of “oh, it doesn’t affect me” to “it affects everything in my life.”

One of the most common requests we receive in Life-Giving Wounds ministry is that we speak more to the issue of annulments. Even though this would be a great topic for a support group meeting (and may well be addressed in that format in the future), I thought I’d share my own thoughts on the matter. In this post, I hope to provide a few pointers and some encouragement.

Knowing that I am made in the image and likeness of God brings a lot of comfort on the days that I don’t feel like I know who (or Whose) I am. I can still struggle in understanding my identity because of what happened with my parents, but now I’m in a much better place.