New Year's Intentions and Integration

by Jessica Boston
Each year, I experience the holidays as a season of buzzing excitement, Hollywood-like nostalgia, and a bit of chaos thrown in for good measure. I navigate big feelings, endless plans, and at the end of a whirlwind few weeks, I find myself returning to the familiarity of habits and patterns that are both healthy and unhealthy; the unhealthy ones soldered to me like shields of protection.

Every January, I also find myself bombarded with an onslaught of advertisements telling me how I should change and what goals I should set for myself in the coming year. Whether it is diet plans or meal services, gym memberships, or apps to track my activities—each touting guaranteed results by the way—the message being that with a commitment, and spending a whole bunch of money, I can be a whole new person.

For me, being adopted means change can be tumultuous. It’s equivalent to instability, unpredictability, and “little me” gets lost. In birth, and subsequently in childhood, change meant a loss of self, a disregard of my identity, and a command of obedience and performance in what was characterized as “adventure” ahead. There was no room to process the grief and loss that accompanied it. I was expected to embrace change, celebrate it, and in many ways, be grateful for it.

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