I have always prided myself on being able to figure things out, especially about relational issues. It is what drew me to becoming a therapist.

What unspoken needs are being expressed between this couple through their fighting?

What dynamics are at work in this family that creates an atmosphere where there is one crisis after the other?

How is this child’s acting out behavior somehow an expression of loyalty to one parent?

In what way does this medical condition serve a function?

Of course, it is easier to see the underlying issues in a situation when you are outside looking in, as I am when working as a therapist. It’s also one of the reasons that Constellation work is so helpful to the client presenting their issue. This work allows them to watch an externalized picture of their conflict unfold before their eyes. When these issues are cocooned within your mind and you don’t even know it is the source of the problem, this distance is helpful.

Finding Courage

In one of my first personal Constellations, I decided to finally present what I had been experiencing from my early childhood, something I was actually hospitalized for when I was 10 years old. The medical doctor believed I had appendicitis. What was discovered instead, was that my body pain was actually overwhelming anxiety.

Anxiety has always plagued me; I learned from subsequent therapeutic work that this chronic condition kept me hyper-vigilant to any changes in the emotional tenor at home. I was always on guard, alert for what could trip the switch to upset apparently peaceful day to day happenings at home. I had good reason for being so watchful.

There were whispered fights at night, and explosive incidents during the day for little infractions like dropping a glass of milk. There were lengthy periods of silence that felt as if something terrible could happen at any moment. These events were not uncommon in our household. Of course, as an adult, I now understand these dynamics to be partially about the effects of trauma my father suffered in World War II. But as a child, they were terrifying.

After reading the article, “How to Heal Your Family” in Spirituality and Health, I began to attend workshops given by a facilitator quoted in the article. After several years of doing so, I finally mustered up the courage to present my chronic anxiety in a workshop with people I trusted.

A Different Kind of Help

“The real voyage of discovery
consists not in seeking new lands
but seeing with new eyes."
~ Marcel Proust

I had a tendency to take on more responsibility than belonged to me in most of my relationships. Despite having started to let go of that tendency, I was still struggling to relax. I began to see how this pattern of inner tension was becoming an obstacle to staying connected to my four grown children. I presented my desire to better understand this issue with anxiety, and the work began.

We set up a representative for me. As I watched, my representative proceeded to pace around the circle. When prompted, she reported that she felt restless and didn’t know where she belonged. I could certainly relate to that. Picking up on my representative’s difficulty finding the right place, the facilitator asked me if there was someone in the family who wasn’t accepted or acknowledged, someone who did not have their rightful place in the family.

This understanding, from a systemic perspective, is a typical direction in Constellations. If there is a chronic issue in the family, it may be connected to some unspoken or unacknowledged missing piece. Often, this is about someone or something that is not acknowledged because it is considered shameful or too painful.

It immediately came to me that there was a child born before my Mom was married who was secretly put up for adoption. This was never spoken about, except for one crucial moment in my life when my father told me. It surprised me that this information even came up.

The facilitator of the Constellation asked for a representative from the group to stand in for the “Baby” who was given away, and another representative for my “Mom.” As soon as the representatives found a place that felt right for them, my representative reported feeling calm and curious.

The representatives stood in a triangle with my “Mom" looking towards "me," and the "Baby” looking at our “Mom.”The tension was palpable in the circle, until the facilitator asked my “Mom” to face the “Baby.” My “Mom” began to cry. No words were needed to identify her deep feeling of grief.

An inexplicable weight lifted from me as I watched, and my representative sighed in relief. Then, the facilitator gave the “Baby” these words: “I am your first born daughter; you are my Mom.”

A simple statement of acknowledging what is, is often the key to unlocking the buried, unexpressed emotions from years of denial of pain and yearning.

The representatives for my “Mom” and her firstborn “Baby” embraced as my “Mom” opened her arms and her heart to her “Baby" for the first time. After a few moments, they settled. The facilitator instructed my “Mom” to introduce my “Sister” to the person representing me.

A Story Redefined

“We are connected with everything,
especially our family legacy,
whether or not we recognize it.
It follows us until we understand and heal it.”
-Danielle Palmer

This reunion had many far-reaching and unexpected consequences. For one, I felt seen as a separate person from my Mom and my sister, while feeling intricately connected to their story. This validation felt empowering.

I felt released from the burden of unconsciously carrying my Mother’s loss and my sister’s abandonment. In a way, I was taken out of the middle of a drama I didn’t even know I was part of. This calmed the generalized anxiety that I hadn’t had words for, and another layer just seemed to melt away.

I felt confidence starting to well up in me. I came alive in a new way. Later, I noticed that I didn’t disappear into my head when under stress. I could stay in my body. The anticipation of something terrible happening no longer controlled my life. I could see and honor all without falling apart.

Changing the internal picture in our minds about our experiences creates a space to redefine what we think we know about our story. With this new image in mind, I eventually invited my Mom to tell her story.

Hers was a story of confusion as a young person. Her sacrifice had secretly defined the trajectory of her life and stifled her ability to really emotionally connect with my Dad and with us, her children. Now, she was able to express her real feelings, maybe for the first time. In sharing them with me, we both felt a deeper connection that lasted until her death.

Along the way, I also came to understand and appreciate my Dad’s role in keeping the secret for my Mom. Doing so came at great cost to their relationship. However, it spoke to the depth of his love and loyalty to her, even though he so wanted her to share it with us, to prepare us for the challenges of young adulthood.

A Sister Found

Having learned this lesson of loyalty well, it took me until my Mom passed away to begin a search for my first-born sister. As it turned out, we both applied for a DNA search through Ancestry at the same time, nearly a thousand miles apart. Within two weeks, I got her name and contacted her. She was stunned because she had just received the name of her birth mother from another source, only a few hours prior to receiving my email.

Serendipity? Neither of us believed it to be so.

Since then, we have had many conversations about our lives. Although we were separated by geography and our mother's secret, we share many of the same interests, values and family details. There is a natural connection and understanding between us. Both of us agree that reuniting after 70 years has been a healing neither of us could have ever hoped for. What a gift for the closing chapter of our lives!

Constellation work opened the door to the unseen dynamic energy that was fueling my anxiety. While it was a symptom that had caused great pain, it proved to be the voice crying out in the wilderness: there is a better story that needed to be told. That story could help me find my right place in the family and free me to comfortably take my place in the world.

I had unconsciously taken on much of the unsettled energy of my Mom and Dad around this secret. Revealing it has helped shift the energy in our family, bringing healing to other members equally affected by it.

But that is their story to tell…

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Lessons From the Journey