journey on

Sitting on the shinkansen (bullet train), staring out the window, as Fuji-san comes into view, trees, rivers and buildings blurring by in the foreground. I've witnessed foreigners jump up in excitement enough times, leaning over Japanese folks in the window seats, shoving their cameras against the glass. Strangely enough, Japanese people often do the same, although they are more subtle, and don't crawl into people's laps just to snap a photo - but I'll hear gasps and exclamations as they pull out their camera phones and snap away.


Fuji-san represents Japan, in all its glory. Even I, homegrown in the Pacific Northwest - home to some of the most majestic mountains in the world - feel a sense of awe when I see it. Mt. Rainier always captures me with its booming voice - a beast of a mountain that presides over everything around. Rainier feels wild and untamed, a mountain boasting its splendor. Mt. Baker is friendly - smiling over Whatcom County, shining on those few sunny days - inviting everyone to come out and play. Its presence is familiar, understandable, and trustworthy. The other volcanic mountains of Washington all have their own characteristics and feelings they provoke. Yet none capture the essence that Fuji-san offers, (likewise, Fuji will never be a beastly mountain like Rainier). Its song is subdued, melancholy, and humble, much like the traditional behavior and culture in Japan. The Japanese consider Fuji-san sacred. So I see Fuji, and I feel Japan - its heart. Those feelings sometimes become something I can't distinguish from what I feel - they are fast becoming ingrained in my understanding of Japan and the world.

History. Culture. Post-modernism. Japan was what it was and now is what it is, as it continues to change - holding onto parts of itself in the process, but allowing other parts to adapt, or being forced to simply because of the pace of this world. Japan is often accused of not keeping up, of not changing or adapting relations, or ways of thought. This is evident. Is it not understandable? When we are hit with change, with circumstances that force or require us to change, we often resist, hoping to hang on to the things that we think we are and define our identity. We don't always want to let go.

My time in Japan is fast approaching two years. My Japanese is improving, as it has suddenly taken hold as never before. My eyes and heart are seeing things even more clearly than those first days - taking in situations and events, looking at them through my Western eyes, but putting them through an Eastern view, a Japanese view, and adjusting, learning. I learn to distinguish, what equals culture and what equals humanity. What does it mean to be Japanese, or American. What does it mean to be human.

I never felt called to go overseas when I was young. There was never a pull or draw for me other than travel or perhaps school. Japan wasn't on my radar. Meeting my husband changed all of that, but coming to Japan changed even more. Meeting precious youth, learning their stories, feeling their pain. Realizing that my heart for children is the same no matter where I am, no matter what these darlings look like or act like - I still love them dearly. Seeing loneliness, heartache, and despair on a daily basis. Hopelessness. Helplessness. The feelings of people, of humans, who just want something meaningful -  want to be loved and appreciated. Want to know they can reveal who they are as humans, without fear of shame or rejection. People who feel the same feelings I have felt, even though we've grown up across an ocean, we connect over those very basic emotions and events that make us human.

I'm not Japanese. I didn't grow up in Japan, like my husband. Japan is part of who he is. Yet, my life here, though short, has influenced me in ways that every other place I've ever lived has. Parts of Japanese society have found their way into my psyche, causing me to look at things much more than simply my own Western lens, one in which I've always known. My most significant life events thus far have happened in Japan - becoming engaged and married. I've met wonderful people and made friends who mean as much to me as anyone in the States. Though I'm a foreigner, and though I often live in a bubble - in between the two - I feel that Japan is now part of me. It's part of who I am. If I ever were to leave, that would stay with me forever. I can't erase the changes. I've allowed myself to be open to Japan, allowing it to speak to me, listening to the voices of people - voices that aren't always audible or said, but voices I hear just the same. This is Japan, and this is my home. Just like Seattle, Bellingham and Montana before it. Places that are part of who I am and who I've become.

Sometimes, it's hard. It's hard to let go of the past - of those relationships that were once so dear. But so many fall away. This stage I'm in, I'm adjusting to Japan. My mind knows it's a place we'll be, at least for a little while. So I'm letting go of before. I'm letting go of the ties that bind me so closely to the U.S. - the ties that won't let me move much farther. The connections will always be there, they will always be a part of me and who I am. I know and realize more and more that being American is such a part of me, but I also realize more and more how I don't really belong, truly, to any one nationality. I know I'm American, but I know my identity is found in much more than that. In Japan I'm a foreigner, and that and being American go hand in hand here. So, a bubble - but to me that's a good place to be. I'm neither here nor there, but I'm in the place I need to be, in the moment I need to be in. Hanging on to the past has me tethered.

Not anymore. 

Cutting ropes is the only way to go forward, to live the life I'm meant to live, to change and become who I'm meant to be. Though I'm slowly becoming part of Japan, I also sense myself slowly becoming less a part of the U.S. I'm not who I was when I got on that plane almost two years ago, in fact, I'm surprised to remember her. Even from a year ago, I am different. Marriage has had a hand in that too. So much of who I am and was has been weeded out, changed, and adjusted - but for the better, or just differently. It wasn't surprising; I already knew it would happen.  I knew, as I strapped in and watched the Seattle skyline shrink and disappear, that I had left myself behind.


*all photos taken with my iPhone

effects of divorce on children

Twitter has me hooked. What I thought was simply just meaningless drivel showed me a wealth of information and knowledge that Twitter holds. Topics from writing to photography offer tips, suggestions, advice, and even ways to communicate with those who are already pros in their field. I can also practice Japanese, in short 140 character tweets. Sometimes I will check English for native Japanese speakers, and they will respond by checking my Japanese. Easy, quick, and free.

People can follow subjects by typing "#" in front of a keyword. For example, #japanese or #writing or #photography. As I learn more about Twitter, find new followers and discover new topics of interest, one important topic usually sits in my "following" categories: divorce. Particularly the effects on children.

What I've come to find is that many parents are twittering (or tweeting or twitting) about the possible effects of divorce on their children - often in ways to ease nerves and guilt. Anyone who knows me well knows this is a passionate subject of mine, and so many of the shared tweets are actually ignorant and further exacerbate the problems of divorce pertaining to children.

As for why I bring this up: I am an adult child of divorce. My parents got separated and subsequently divorced when I was twelve. My entire adolescence was ridden with emotional angst, fears and insecurities that I didn't fully realize until I was nineteen. Consequently, I researched divorce and its effects on children. Though there isn't a lot of research out there right now, I probably own every book that has been published on the subject. My major was Social Sciences and thus learned more about families, child and adolescent development, and family crises. My opinions aren't biased from experience; I back up everything I say with credible sources and research. This subject is one that has yet to be completely publicized, and it is my hope that this may help in some way.

The fact of the matter is, divorce is traumatic. For everyone involved. I doubt anyone who has gone through one or is going through one would deny that. The only time divorce may be less traumatic is if it's a high-conflict or abusive situation. Most of the articles I've ever read about divorce are written by parents for parents, and usually take the tone of "your kids will be fine, and here's why," with a list that lacks any real evidence or academic research.

Kids are not fine. Most people may know of the research about how some kids may go on to commit crime or drop out of school, and the social scientist in me would go further with that to say other factors in their life also influence those choices. However, what about the kids who "seem" fine? The kids who are usually happy, have friends, get straight A's, do well at sports or art or music? What about those seemingly well-adjusted kids?

First of all, the age of the child at the time of divorce will have some effect on how they respond to it. So will personality and numerous external factors. Not every child will respond the same way. External factors can increase or decrease the risk of issues.

Second, children lack the brain development to completely understand the situation and subsequently grieve completely. Though they may be sad or act out, their brains are unable to comprehend everything surrounding the divorce, and in that sense, the emotions and feelings surrounding it "go to sleep" in their minds. This is what researcher Judith Wallerstein calls "the sleeper effect." Whatever issues or hurt the child may have towards the divorce won't appear completely until they are older and capable of processing the events. Once they realize and are aware of these issues, the feelings that surface will often feel fresh and new as if the event just happened recently. Some people never realize how their parents' divorce (or any past event) affects them, and go through life carrying the same issues and hurt without ever dealing with it.

Third, divorce is a kind ambiguous loss. The child loses their family structure. Oftentimes this means losing one of the parents. If that parent leaves completely, or is only partially involved or sees their children some of the time, it creates an ambiguity that perpetuates the grieving cycle. If a parent were to die, however, the loss would be perceived as permanent, and the child would be able to properly grieve over time (this doesn't mean it hurts more or less, just that the grieving process can actually happen). Children of divorce always have a feeling of ambiguity because their parent could appear at any time, even if they haven't seen that parent for most of their lives. They aren't truly gone, at least not in a way that they can process and grieve over.

Children of divorce can and do experience many negative effects, depending on their personality, external factors, severity of divorce and the kind of relationship their parents had before, during and after the divorce, as well as their parenting style. For example, perhaps a child seems well-adjusted. They do well at school, they play sports, they have some friends, and they seem like a normal child. This same child may start to exhibit behaviors depending on their situation, especially in adolescence. If the father is uninvolved, or the child feels unloved, they may seek out this kind of male attention in other ways. Perhaps among coaches or teachers, or among their peers (which happens often). They may become physically and sexually involved with their peers at an earlier age due to a lack of love and affection that they are so desperately wanting. Their romantic relationships may be ridden with insecurity and codependent tendencies.

They may be driven toward perfectionism, in relationships and in things they do, to feed their need for positive attention and affirmation. Their ability to take on responsibility at a young age causes them to grow up faster, and put more strain and stress on themselves in what they do. Their inability to have good relationships may drive them to victim cycles, which are perpetuated every time they are (inevitably) hurt by their peers. The cycle continues, as they push themselves to be more and more of a victim in hopes that someone will validate their hurts and help them.

They may become controlling in order to control every situation around them so nothing ends badly. They may become manipulative of people in certain circumstances to get what they want, especially in romantic situations or encounters with the opposite sex. If they are in a romantic relationship, they may either shut themselves away and not open up at all to the other person, or they may become codependent and clingy, essentially driving the other person away in their efforts to keep them from doing so in the first place.

Most children and adolescents are unaware that they are hurting due to their parents' divorce, or even what they may be missing and wanting from their parents. This is due to the "sleeper effect." These cycles then continue into adulthood and affect many, if not all, aspects of their lives. It doesn't mean they aren't still high-achievers, since they appear to be well-adjusted adults. However, they lack the ability to have healthy romantic relationships (and sometimes even just friendships). Their codependent tendencies will effectively ruin many of their relationships. Playing victim will exhaust and chase away many people, furthering their victim cycle.

These are just some examples. Children respond differently, and a parents' divorce will not affect every child in the exact same way. Furthermore, many of these issues and tendencies can surface due to other events or even just specific parenting styles. Some children from non-divorced homes may exhibit many of the same behaviors. Also, some couples have what researchers call an "emotional divorce" - they are still together, perhaps for the kids, but emotionally distant and act as if they aren't married.

I am not saying parents should simply "stay together for the kids." This is ultimately counter-productive. My main encouragement is to do everything possible to work through the issues couples are experiencing, get counseling, do everything they absolutely can to try and help their marriage. Aside this, I would strongly encourage anyone about to get married to heavily consider who they are marrying. Talk about a variety of issues and topics. Try pre-marital counseling. Get to know the person completely before you marry them. I realize that marriage allows you to know a person even more, but I think a lot of the marital problems that exist today either stem from marrying someone who isn't right in the first place, or, more probable, the issues one or both spouses carry from their own past limit their ability to effectively communicate and fully love each other.

However, even after all of that, if a couple still decides to get divorced, or if they already are (and have children), kids may not be ok, but that doesn't mean they can't be. The first step is awareness and acknowledgment of hurt. Adult children of divorce have to first see how events in their past have affected them. Secondly, they must grieve. Sadness, anger, and all of the grieving processes are essentially the same. The only way to move forward is to allow those emotions to surface. Offering forgiveness is essential - because if the adult child of divorce cannot express forgiveness, they will stay stuck in the grieving process.

Seeking out counseling may be helpful for some, as could reading books written by and/or for adult children of divorce. Writing or keeping a journal can be helpful to process thoughts and emotions. Having support in some way is extremely helpful, although not everyone always does (sometimes because they've chased everyone away unintentionally), and being able to process with someone who is willing to listen (not the parents though) can be helpful.

I did a variety of these things and it took me about three years to go through the entire grieving process. Even after, some things still acted as triggers and I had to deal with each specific trigger as it appeared. Even getting engaged and married brought about a variety of triggers and conflicted feelings that are common to adult children of divorce. I'm fortunate to have a great husband who has known me for years and watched me go through the healing process (though we weren't together at that time). He understands how the divorce affected me and is very patient when those triggers surface. It also helps that he comes from a stable home.

In summary, there is always hope. Kids will not be fine after a divorce, but that doesn't mean they can't be.


Resources:

The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce: A 25 Year Landmark Study by Judith Wallerstein

Between Two Worlds: The Inner Lives of Children of Divorce by Elizabeth Marquardt

Generation Ex: Adult Children of Divorce and the Healing of Our Pain by Jen Abbas

Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself by Melody Beattie

Ambiguous Loss: Learning to Live with Unresolved Grief by Pauline Boss

Growing Up Divorced: For Adults Who Once Suffered the Trauma of Their Parents' Divorce by Archibald D. Hart

Adult Children of Legal or Emotional Divorce: Healing Your Long Term Hurt by Jim Conway