This week the writing portion of my Hybrid journey came to an end. You’d think I might be filled with relief, excitement, and joy, so why is my stomach in knots? I’ve handed the manuscript over to my editor, and now I battle with second thoughts over whether I should have started this entire journey in the first place!
But I’ll get over that. One of the gifts my family handed down, without realizing it, is part of a school of thought known as post-traumatic growth. I’ve always been intrigued by my family’s response to traumatic events, whether it was the Armenian genocide, living in occupied Denmark during World War Two or moving our family from place to place and finding a path that’s been nothing short of transformative. Not one of us is promised that life will be easy or that the one we love will be here tomorrow. And I’ve discovered that moving through these difficult times is truly an opportunity to work on becoming a better version of myself.
I wind up the book reflecting on how my upbringing in a clash of cultures allows me to be kind of like a chameleon. Growing up Hybrid means I’ve learned to adapt to people from different backgrounds, understand what it means to yearn for belonging as I develop into a person who no longer lives solely to please others.
My Hybrid journey week 18.