When reflecting on my upbringing, it feels like a jigsaw puzzle with countless missing pieces. While some of my friends reminisce about delightful birthday celebrations, cherished family moments, and milestones like graduations, my memories are more fragmented. I recall certain vivid instances, particularly the chaotic ones, but much of my childhood remains obscured, like a foggy landscape I can’t quite navigate.
I was raised in a divided household, where my parents earnestly tried to provide for my sisters and me. However, the reality of divorce often complicates matters. Growing up, I struggled with the stigma of being the child from a broken family. Frequent relocations and relentless arguments between my parents created an unstable environment that affected everyone in different ways.
As the youngest sibling, I felt like a pawn in their ongoing struggles. I was often shuffled between my parents, celebrated as a “trophy child” during holidays with one parent, only to be returned to the other for weekends. I longed to feel truly acknowledged, but instead, I was just collateral damage in a bitter divorce battle.
I hold no resentment toward my mother or my late father, but I often wish someone had recognized the toll their conflicts took on me. As a parent, it can be challenging to focus on the present while considering how every decision may affect a child’s future. Many parents prioritize financial stability, wondering if they’re saving enough for their child’s education or future home. Rarely do they contemplate whether their words or actions might inflict emotional harm that lingers long after.
Throughout my childhood, I experienced six different moves, living in various homes — sometimes even with friends of the family. Financial disputes were a constant backdrop, and both of my siblings battled their own health challenges. The loss of my paternal grandmother at a young age, along with my father’s health crises, made hospitals a familiar setting for me. I became well-acquainted with the menu at the hospital food court and could even navigate the best spots to find cozy blankets and pillows.
Today, my life starkly contrasts my childhood experiences. I have achieved financial stability, earning a bachelor’s, a master’s, and a post-master’s license. I’m building two promising careers, share my life with two adorable dogs, and enjoy a loving relationship with my supportive partner. I have a stable home, cook delicious meals regularly, and am surrounded by a close-knit group of incredible friends.
Yet, despite this newfound stability, I find it challenging to cope. I struggle with the concept of calmness, always anticipating something to disrupt the peace. When life is going well, I’m consumed by the fear that disaster is just around the corner. This mindset leads me to undermine joyful moments, as I constantly seek chaos — my comfort zone — like an addiction.
Watching peers transition into marriage and parenthood fills me with both happiness and dread. I fear that my pursuit of chaos will sabotage my own happiness in these new stages of life.
Psychologists often discuss how growing up amidst chaos can lead to a permanent “fight or flight” mode, making anxiety feel like the norm. For me, the chaos of my childhood has desensitized me to stability, making it feel foreign and uncomfortable, almost as if I’m returning to an old neighborhood that I know all too well.
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In summary, my chaotic childhood has left me grappling with the concept of stability as an adult. While I’ve achieved many milestones, I often find myself searching for chaos, unable to fully embrace the peace and joy that life now offers.
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