Where's Roberta??

... where in the world have I been???

It has been way too long since I have written on this platform. I can see that I have many new subscribers, and I welcome each of you. Thank you for being here. I write as a devoted mom who raised four incredible children, became a therapist, and then was thrown into the madness of navigating family estrangement and grandparent alienation. I have to tell you, nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared me for that part of my life journey.

As I diligently sought to save my bewildered soul, I discovered an entire population of people experiencing the tragedy of estrangement and alienation in their own life stories. I couldn’t believe it. At first, I thought I was the only one and shamefully wondered, What’s wrong with me? Only to discover that it wasn’t really about me or my parenting at all.

Although finding these estranged and alienated individuals helped me feel less alone, it also deepened my determination and passion to find healing and make some sense of this unnatural life phenomenon. Where’s that Rosetta Stone?

When my children were little, we read one of a gazillion books on our shelves, “Where’s Waldo?” This was a fun book where we searched the page to find little Waldo in a very full world surrounded by life of some sort. It was one of many precious memories from raising my children. Yes, I was a good mom. All I ever wanted to be was a mom. I thought I had found myself in the birthing, nurturing, raising, loving, and delighting in my four magnificent children. However, I learned that I actually lost myself and had to find “Where’s Roberta” once again.

During the early stages of semi-estrangement, as I navigated launching my children, the first book I found was Dr. Josh Coleman’s When Parents Hurt. Not only was I never given the elusive parenting manual upon each child’s birth, I certainly wasn’t handed a launching-and-letting-go manual upon each child’s developmentally appropriate send-off. Dr. Coleman’s book was the perfect title for my life experience, and I read the entire book not once, but twice.

As my story unfolded and I got lost deeper into the throes of family estrangement, including grandparent alienation, I found his next book, Rules of Estrangement. It became a guidebook for navigating this unknown territory, filled with insight, research, understanding, and validation. Again, I read it not just once, but twice. It helped me navigate the profound ambiguous grief of estrangement.

On this journey, another book that truly helped me find “Where’s Roberta” again was Sheri McGregor’s Done with the Crying. Her second book, Beyond Done with the Crying, was equally helpful in my search for “Where’s Roberta” in the midst of profound ambiguous grief. As I read her words and learned her personal story as an estranged mom—one who is not only surviving but thriving—I was able to find Roberta, the valuable person I was even before I had children. More healing tears followed to lead me through this journey, this self-discovery of finding “Where’s Roberta.” I learned that with estrangement, you never “get over it”—you build a life around it.

Eventually, as a therapist, I signed up for Dr. Coleman’s very first professional training in 2021 with Becca Bland. I was one of only four people in attendance across the entire country. Through this professional training, and having personal lived experience that far surpasses any textbook knowledge, I became passionate about helping other hurting parents. Dr. Coleman certified me as a family estrangement coach and sent referrals my way. Other people’s stories tug at my tender heartstrings, and I wrap myself up in compassion, empathy, and understanding for them. I get it. I truly do.

In the land of estrangement, while searching for “Where’s Roberta,” I discovered that I was a devoted, loving mom… who became a therapist… who became estranged… who became a wounded healer… who emerged as a passionate, resilient, strong, loving woman with a life built around this tragic life experience. In time, I was transformed. I was lost, but now I’m found.

In my search for “Where’s Roberta,” I found my love for dancing—something I never had time for while raising my precious four human beings. Today, my life is full of line dancing several times a week. And get this… one of my line dance friends is 98 years YOUNG! Can you believe it? I adore her. She inspires and encourages me—my friend and my hero. Surely, in her 98 years, life has knocked the wind out of her sails more than once—but just look at her. She still gets out on that dance floor, smiling, stepping into joy. I want to be just like her when I grow up!

Today, my life is full—overflowing—with family and friends who cherish me. Wonderful people who want to spend time with me and enjoy the Roberta that I truly am, despite how estrangement and alienation once tried to define me. As fewer tears were shed, more joy was found in building my life once again. If I’m not dancing, I’m practicing another survival technique learned from my beautiful mother: reading. She was an avid reader who often had more than one book being read at a time. This beautiful woman had a very hard life. Many things did not turn out as she hoped, dreamed, or deserved. Yet she would just read and find herself propelled into the world of another story. She found a way to learn more about life, living, and enduring the hardships that come to all of us. Her last year of life spent in hospice—when she too was swept up in the pain of my estrangement and alienation—we shared a book together. Estrangement is so unfair, so undeserving, but so true in this growing phenomenon. Nobody is immune. She and I spent our last days together sharing a book, and that book remains precious to me. I have read it not once, but twice now in memory of her.

Lastly, my life is full, my private practice is full, and my days are spent living, helping, and pouring into wounded souls navigating estrangement and alienation. I search for the Rosetta Stone in each of their stories and help them find themselves once again. My heart’s desire is to help them transition from immense pain to renewed personhood and passion for life. In finding “Where’s Roberta,” I also found my name means “Bright Counselor.” So in the midst of sadness and despair, I reflect light, love, hope, and joy. We can all do hard things and find resilience through life.

Today, I have found the answer to “Where’s Roberta.” Today she is on the dance floor, or devouring a book, or empathetically helping others. I must say, it’s a good life. It’s not that I don’t think about how it could have been, would have been, should have been, and want to put my swirling thoughts into writing. It’s just that I have been so busy living my life in the midst of estrangement that my time is limited to do much more. I’ve heard recently that in the estrangement world, you never get over it, you never get over the loss of an estranged loved one—you build a life around it. In the process of finding “Where’s Roberta,” I think I have stumbled upon my Rosetta Stone too.