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.

Two key things to remember in working with candidates who are children of divorce are to avoid the extremes and to discern each situation individually. Communities should neither overly fear the effects of divorce on potential members nor gloss over this fact and fail to see the lasting impact it can have (despite the possibility of the person themselves being unaware of its effects). It is often the case that the repercussions of divorce do not surface until young adulthood or the beginning of more intimate relationships. Hence, younger candidates are often able to present well if these issues have not yet manifested. Nevertheless, simply being a child of divorce should not disqualify one from a vocation to the religious life. Rather, each situation should be discerned individually with an eye to the person's understanding of the effect it has had on them personally, their prior healing work, their present manner of being in close relationships, and their openness to further healing efforts should issues arise in the future.

However, the whole point of Lent is to do things that bring us closer to the heart of Jesus. And, if I want to be free to love someone in the vocation of marriage one day, how will I be able to do that if I am still carrying around resentful anger towards my parents? Do they deserve this reaction? Probably, but God loves them just the same as He loves me. So I embarked on a forty plus day journey of loving my parents through the eyes of Jesus Christ, whose love was so big that He died on the Cross for sins that He did not commit (cf CCC 598).

For those not married who believe they are called to marriage, you may know quite well the brokenness that keeps you in patterns that delay your readiness for the type of relationship that would lead into marriage.  In whichever category you find yourself, I submit that marriage has the potential to offer you significant healing.  For those who are married, when your marriage becomes difficult, and it will, the key is to turn toward – not from – your spouse.  The more you turn toward your spouse, with Christ, the more healing you will find.  This is because holy matrimony is a sacrament that heals, and it heals through the communion and sacrificial suffering modeled after Christ’s own sacrificial suffering to restore communion between us and God.

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. 

When I read Lucille Clifton’s “forgiving my father” poem, I was struck with deep resonance on how profoundly I related to it.  I realized that it actually ended up setting a framework for how I could track and understand my own (rocky) process of forgiving my own father.  I came to a few realizations about the process of forgiveness – both from the poem and my own struggle with it. So, in honor of this year’s Father’s Day, a day when we can reflect on our perfect, all-providing Heavenly Father, but also a day when we can acknowledge the grief in how perhaps our earthly fathers fell short, I would like to share what I realized here.

At one moment during the party, I thought to myself, “…Was this really so bad? Was this family life really so bad that it was deemed not worth fighting for?” While I do know that my parents’ relationship was not great, I still could not help feeling a little sad.

For adult children of divorce and parental separation, having trusted resources for the healing journey is important. The burdens and wounds caused by parental separation or divorce can have a significant impact and last a lifetime. That is why I think it is good to know about and consider if the Litanies of the Heart and a Catholic approach to Internal Family Systems might be something to add to your healing tool box.

The story of the Presentation of Jesus, as found in the Gospel of Luke Chapter 2, has always been one of my favorites, and has held a special place in my spiritual life as an adult child of divorce. When our parents are divorced, separated, or in a difficult marriage, the struggles in their relationship become the dominant force in the house. … In this beautiful mystery of the Presentation, let us look at the Holy Family, and allow them to teach us and heal us in those places in need of the Lord’s light.

This article is my life-saving text to you; it is my personal invitation to any adult child of divorce or separation to start (or continue) your own healing journey with Life-Giving Wounds.

My parents officially divorced when I was about 17 years old.  My father persistently campaigned for a divorce. He confessed that he had been in a relationship with another woman whom he had actually married while on his “vacations” in Egypt. Since I was the eldest of three, my mother would share her pain with me. To this day, being the main witness to her inconsolable weeping is one of the most painful experiences I have had as a 41-year-old man.

This past Christmas, like many others before it, was hard.  My “difficult” father tends to “act-out” during the holidays to get the attention he craves, and this Christmas was no exception.  So, my therapist suggested I do some restorative care to help heal my immediate father wound, and to help me manage my long-term depression: what Rick Springfield calls, “Mr. D.” 

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.

Every human soul is of more value than the entire universe put together, and each person is created in the image and likeness of God.  No human being can escape the loving gaze of God, no matter what the circumstances of his or her origin.  No Catholic, and no person, should ever deem oneself of lesser value if he or she comes from an “irregular” situation, for God sees all, knows all, loves all, and desires to save all (1 Timothy 2:3-4).

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.

Insights from Attachment Theory for Adult Children of Divorce, is a four-part series by Life-Giving Wounds alumna Emily Rochelle which introduces the key concepts of Attachment Theory, explores the relationship between attachment security and mental health, looks at how attachment is rooted in neurobiology, and how attachment impacts one’s relationship with God.

Throughout Scripture, the images and language used to describe God frequently evoke two of the strongest attachment relationships that we can know as human beings—the relationship between a child and a parent, and the relationship between spouses.

If your parents divorced when you were an adult, like mine did, you may have experienced strife over paying for a wedding or a car. For me, my parents fought over who paid for what while I was in law school, including the cost of the postage stamp used to mail my monthly check!  My parents’ contention over petty things affected my image of God the Father, who cannot be outdone in generosity (see Matthew 19:29).  If my parents argued over who paid an extra few pennies to help support me, I certainly could not rely on them to provide anything, including financially.

I thought that if I just sat down and listed all the things I ‘should’ be grateful for in my life that I would then become a person filled with gratitude. I saw this exercise as the ‘fix’ for my pain and struggles. All the people I read about who had done this seemed so happy and peaceful. I wanted that for myself! My experience in life, largely shaped by my parents divorce, had taught me (incorrectly) that if I wanted something I had to get it for myself. So I went for it, only to be disappointed again and again.