Let me share a bit more about me & my journey... So grab a cup of tea and get comfy!

LET'S BACK UP A LITTLE

1980-2002 

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I was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, to a 24-year-old mother in medical school.

 

My father, a well-known 41-year-old psychiatrist, was famous for pioneering psychotherapy with LSD.

 

I was the youngest of two girls.

 

My parents divorced when I was 3 years old.

 

My father remarried to an amazing woman and had a beautiful 15-year partnership.

 

My mom remarried for the wrong reasons and divorced two years later.

 

When I was 6, my mother decided to relocate us to Israel where she completed her medical residency.

 

She was in and out of hospitals with an unknown illness for most of the three years we spent in Israel.

 

My sister and I were taken in by a really nice family that treated us as if we were their own.

 

In 1989, we moved to Vancouver, Canada, where my mom attempted her third marriage and divorced a year later.

 

We spent the next year exploring different places to live.

 

While waiting for a flight back to Israel from Miami, my mom met a charming young man with two kids. She fell in love, and like the Brady Bunch, we all moved in together and had a real family for about seven years.

 

My mom was a brilliant, loving, funny, and gorgeous young doctor, but she was riddled with depression and illness which affected all aspects of her life, including her fourth marriage.

 

Her nightstand looked like a pharmacy.

 

She could never quite keep her life together, which created an extremely unstable environment for us girls.

 

I went to a different school almost every year of my life and finally dropped out in my senior year to get my GED.

 

I left home at 17 to move in with my 22-year-old boyfriend.

 

We had a very toxic relationship, which I had confused with real love.

 

To get me away from this toxic relationship, my mom decided to put me on a plane back to Argentina to live with my father for six months.

 

Up until this point, my father was my hero. He could do no wrong. I wanted to be a psychiatrist just like him. He was handsome, charming, loving, deep, funny, and fun!

 

Shortly after my arrival, his humanity revealed itself and a little girl's hero came tumbling down like a house of cards in a summer windstorm.

 

My father was at his rock bottom. He was battling a drinking problem, his wife of 15 years had just left him, and his career was going down the drain. Needless to say, I was crushed by the fall of my imaginary hero.

 

Yet this was to be one of the most important lessons of my young adulthood!

 

Fast forward to the summer of 2002.

 

I had been happily married for two years and was living in New England.

 

My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer with metastasis in the brain and given two months to live.

 

I left my husband to be by my mother's bedside until her last breath; nothing else mattered to me at that moment.

 

My mother's death was the most pivotal moment of my life!

 

I was not aware of it at the time, but this was to be the biggest and most profound teaching of my journey.

 

My husband at the time was unable to handle my absence and turned from my hero to the villain of my story, another fallen hero!

 

He finally showed up after she passed.

 

In an attempt to NOT follow in my mother's footsteps, I stayed with my husband for six more years. Resentments slowly ate away at me. Unable to process or communicate my grief to my avoidant partner, I buried the pain deep inside my empty heart, where even I had forgotten about it.

 

But like all treasures, they are meant to be found!"

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