UNRAVELING THE THREADS OF STIGMA By Kaida Riven
Brenda Sedgwick
Founder | Registered Psychotherapist | Certified Governance Coach | Consultant
As I reflect on my journey, I realize that stigma's roots run deep, intertwined with trauma and resilience. My story begins with the pain of my grandmother's experiences and the ripple effects on our family.
The Weight of Family Legacy
My grandmother's upbringing, though affluent and rooted in Protestant values, concealed a complex web of dynamics. Her father's frequent absence, leading engineering-energy projects remotely, created a void that would shape her relationships. The familiar refrain of 'wait till your father gets home!' masked a deeper dance of deception, distortion, and disaffection. This surrogate dynamic played out in the spousal relationships, with my grandmother often assuming a caretaking role, and her brother receiving undue admiration from their mother.
This intricate family landscape was shaped by my grandfather's tragic workplace accident, which left my grandmother a young widow and single mother of two adopted children ages 2 and 5. The inadequate compensation from WSIB, despite proven negligence, compounded her loss and shattered the promise of a dual-career, dual-parent household for her two adopted children. Her mother's bitterness and emotional unavailability, fueled by blaming my grandfather for 'leaving' my grandmother, taught her to harbor eternal resentment.
The poisonous mindset infected her inner world, making her increasingly difficult to be around. Friends and coworkers grew wary, and eventually, she was let go from her 16-year nursing career, reportedly unable to function due to untreated drug addiction and debilitating depression. This toxic legacy, compounded by the traumatic loss of my grandfather and WSIB's inadequate response, forged a pattern of avoidance and detachment that would later shape my own experiences.
However, it was the external forces that would ultimately test my own identity and sense of self. As a child, I was drawn into a toxic peer environment that targeted my mother's gender fluid Indigenous identity and degraded her traditional braid - a symbol of our spiritual and cultural heritage. I recall the painful ridicule, the scissor motions, and the demands to 'fit in'. Unwittingly, I began to affiliate with the very group that mocked my heritage, dyeing my hair gray to identify with my grandmother's helpless dependency. This role confusion and loss of identity would take years to unravel, cutting away at my ability to respect and relate to my mother, family, and cultural values.
My Mother's Story
My mother's life was a complex tapestry of adoption, racial diversity, gender fluidity, and Indigenous heritage. However, her extended family's acceptance was conditional, often laced with disdain and micro-aggressions.
My mother's story is etched in my memory, particularly the painful introductions where relatives would casually dismiss her connection to our family. 'This is our cousin's daughter, adopted, not really one of us,' they would say; their words dripping with detachment. I recall the subtle nods, the exchanged glances, and the unspoken understanding that her adoption rendered her an outsider. Growing up, I did not grasp the full weight of my mother's experiences, the cumulative effect of these micro-aggressions. But then, my peers began to echo these sentiments, questioning my own identity, heritage, and reality. 'You're not really related to them,' they would say, parroting their parents' words. 'Your mom's adopted, so you are not truly part of that family.' Their phrases cut deep, implying that our bond was somehow less authentic, less meaningful, inauthentic. I began to understand the depth of my mother's hurt, the confusion, rejection, and shame that pierced her heart like a dagger, leaving scars that would linger for a lifetime.
These experiences shaped my mother's self-perception and relationships. Growing up, she faced strict rules and expectations, never allowed to wear shorts or keep her hair long, lest her indigeneity be visible in her skin. My grandmother's bigoted inherited views and insecurities fueled this erasure.
As a result, my mother developed a people-pleasing perfectionism, tolerating abuse and expecting nothing in return. Her achievements, whether academic or professional, were met with anger and silence from our family. The absence of positive reinforcement and protection took its toll.
My mother's resilience was forged through journaling, art, and music. CBT and Existentialist therapy helped her cope with internalized racism, stigma, and hate. However, the scars remained, evident in her struggles with anorexia, relationship abuse, and system errors that nearly led to fatal consequences.
The loss of her grandfather, her safeguard and beacon of hope, marked a significant turning point. Without his protection, family dynamics shifted, and challenges intensified.
As I grew older, I struggled to understand my mother's complexities. Her experiences and wounds influenced my own identity formation, making it challenging for me to retain self-respect and affinity with her and our family values. I began to reject her Indigenous heritage, seeking validation from those who promised I was nothing like her.
This rejection led to a distorted sense of self, high-risk behaviors, and a desperate search for attention and affirmation. Unconsciously, I was trying to escape the intergenerational trauma that had shaped our family narrative.
Secure Foundations
Amidst the turmoil, my mother found solace in her relationship with my great-grandfather. After my grandfather's tragic workplace accident, he became a steadfast father figure, providing emotional security and mentorship. This bond formed during the critical first 1000 days of her life, a period of attachment sensitivity (cf, Allan Schore, Alex Polgar) that is vital for internal security (and which Alex Polgar metaphorically likens to the internal warmth of a pot-belly stove).
Discussions with system workers about her adoption revealed the truth about her orphanage experiences. Contrary to assumptions of neglect, my mother discovered she had benefited from congregate living, with an unusual 8-month stay for prolonged imprinting of kindness and kindheartedness - the warmth of Christian spiritual values unmarred by constraints of religiosity or tensions of dogma.
My great-grandfather's mentorship laid the foundations for my mother's mental resilience. She intuitively sought out advisors, building a network of nurturing guides, trusted advisors, and caring influencers. This lifelong investment in knowledge and relational growth through critical self and environmental awareness became her underlying security.
Professionally and personally, my mother sought out supportive relationships with mentors who embodied safety, empathy, and expertise. These nurturing connections helped her navigate complex challenges, including her struggles with anorexia, relationship abuse, and devastating medical setbacks exacerbated by systemic stigma.
This paradoxical inheritance left me torn. I rebelled against my mother's legacy, rejecting her values and identity. Yet, I couldn't shake off the innate desire to help others, a trait deeply ingrained from her.
In high school, I exemplified this contradiction. I scorned the traditional work ethic, yet volunteered over 200 hours - five times the mandatory requirement to graduate -- to support causes I cared about and reflected my choices. And instead of recognition, I faced gossip and dismissal. 'It's all lies,' people whispered, despite CEO signatures from esteemed organizations.
This experience marked a turning point. Why bother trying to prove myself to a community that refused to acknowledge my efforts? The mesosystem that had ravaged my family's connection, meaning, and joy now sought to break my spirit. For a time, I succumbed to the toxic whispers. I questioned my own worth, purpose, and reality. And amidst the turmoil, I found solace in the safe, open environment created by my mother. Her collaborative and meritocratic approach, grounded in respect and reasonableness, offered a secret sanctuary.
Within this haven, I began to reconcile the conflicting forces within me. I started to recognize the value of my mother's helpfulness and spiritual core, even as I struggled to accept her identity and values. This journey was fraught with confusion and self-doubt. I oscillated between embracing and rejecting my mother's legacy, seeking validation from others while questioning my own worth.
As I navigate my own journey, I grapple with the flow that fits my personhood and purposes. Place matters, and I am drawn to environments that nurture my growth. My mother's story teaches me that even amidst turmoil, security can be found in unexpected places - and that the right mentorship can shape a lifetime.
Streaming Discoveries: A Mother's Gifts
My mother and I shared a love for reading and exploration. We devoured books together, like Clem Martini's 'The Crow Trilogy' and David Suzuki's documentary on crow behavior. These stories sparked discussions on ecology, resilience, and interconnectedness, teaching me valuable lessons about adaptation, empathy, and the delicate balance within systems - lessons that would later help me navigate the turbulent waters of adolescence and the complexities of my own identity.
Through her, I received teachings directly and vicariously from her mentors, blending academic, clinical, and policy insights. Mother empowered me with contextual information, evidence-based assumptions, and critical thinking. Through my mother's lens of Bowen Family Systems Theory, I witnessed her analyze relational dynamics within our family and social circles, recognizing patterns of emotional reactivity and triangulation. This awareness helped shield my emotional core from total obliteration by the toxic influences of peer pressure and rejection. She encouraged me to differentiate myself from the chaos, fostering emotional resilience and a stronger sense of self. And she trusted that growth by choice takes time.
Even before my birth, I was blessed with influences that shaped my journey. During my gestation and early years, my mother intentionally surrounded me with diverse perspectives. As a babe in arms, I was introduced to mentoring by authentic emotional bonds beyond my grandmother and extended family, setting the stage for a rich tapestry of experiences.
For my first decade, I was enriched by Indigenous elders and knowledge keepers from around the world, who shared myth, magic, mystery, and metaphor. Music, symbolic interaction, grounded emergent theory, phenomenological and existential philosophies, and various measurement systems broadened my perspective. I absorbed these teachings through encounters with my mother's colleagues, friends, and 'like family'.
As I grew, I participated in traditional spiritual practices - walking out ritual and choosing a gender, sweat lodges, shaking tents, moon ceremonies, strawberry fast, spiritual communion vigils, and group insight rituals -- alongside Christian prayer and Indigenous ceremonies. Our exploration of Ayurvedic and Traditional Chinese Medicine, alongside allopathic and naturopathic approaches, fostered my critical awareness and informed decision-making.
My mother's understanding of Murray Bowen's work helped her navigate our family's emotional dynamics. The extended family's enmeshment, driven by anxiety and stigma, contributed to her struggles. By applying Bowen's theories, she recognized patterns and sought to promote differentiation and emotional resilience within our family.
This diverse foundation has equipped me with a robust framework for navigating life's complexities. Now that I am ready.
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Foreshadowing the Storm
As I navigated the chasm between my family's values and the rejecting worlds around me, I became lost in a limbo of conflicting identities. Desperate for acceptance, I performed a caricature of perfection, seeking automatic tolerance and kindness that seemed reserved for others. Yet, even flawlessness could not shield me from conditional acceptance, demanding I renounce my mother and heritage.
This wrenching dichotomy foreshadowed the self-harming behaviors that would emerge, mirroring the internal strife of my grandmother, whose social withdrawal and apathy concealed her own unaddressed pain. Her inaction, a manifestation of neglect and abuse, would become a haunting parallel to my own struggles. The consequences of this unaddressed trauma will unfold in Articles 4 and 5, 'The Storm'. I will delve into the intricate web of my family's influence, my substance use, and the resilience - Alex Polgar's metaphorical 'pot-belly stove' - that ultimately saved me. The echoes of my grandmother's pain will resurface, illuminating the intergenerational legacy of suffering and the redemptive power of confronting the past.
Reflection and Resilience
As I confront stigma, I realize:
By acknowledging these threads, I weave a new narrative - one of resilience, self-awareness, and healing.
Questions for Reflection
Bibliotherapy Resources
Family of Origin and Trauma
Attachment and Relationships
Personal Growth and Healing
Self-Compassion and Mindfulness
Additional Resources
Crisis and Support Lines
Mental Health and Addiction Resources
Domestic Violence and Abuse
Online Therapy Platforms
These Canadian resources provide vital support and connections for individuals seeking help and working to overcome stuck patterns.
Stay Tuned:
In the next installment of my journey, I will delve into the suffocating grip of societal expectations and internalized shame, examining how these forces intensified my struggle and fueled a devastating downward spiral. As I confront the corrosive effects of conformity and self-betrayal, I will illuminate the fragile dance between identity, belonging, and self-acceptance - revealing the painful consequences of trying to fit into a world that rejects my true self.
Join the Conversation:
Share your own experiences with family dynamics, stigma, and structural violence. Together, let us break the silence and foster resilience by shattering stigma.