Shelach: Trust yourself

The last obstacle can be the scariest part of the journey. You must confront the reality that your life could change completely, but also that you must still fight hard to reach that goal.

Kate and I are in the last stage of the process before we get to "search" for our child. We're interviewing with our social workers about who we are, where we came from, and what type of parents we want to become. As someone with a traumatic childhood, yesterday's personal interview was hard.

In this week's parsha, twelve spies return from the land of Canaan carrying delicious bounty of the land's sweetness (pomegranates, grapes & figs) and tales of warriors "more powerful than we." The people, afraid, did not trust that they were strong enough to win, and they were punished by wandering the desert for forty more years. The people failed to trust their own strength, intelligence, and faith.

Yesterday the social workers asked me about my parents, and how I want to parent compared to them. My parents gave me many great treasures – my father's capacity to love, my mother's boundaries – but my childhood was also burdened.

Yesterday, I rushed home from work to meet with the social workers. My work at legal aid triggers traumatic memories of my childhood, and I was unprepared to give the measured, thoughtful answers I had thought out beforehand. In that moment, I didn't trust that I could be a better parent to my child or that I could be a parent at all.

I almost cried. I almost said so many things that my wounded youthful heart wanted to say, but aren't part of my truth anymore. I wanted to say I was unfit, that I know from firsthand experience love doesn't conquer all, that my parents didn't love me the right way, that I spent my childhood afraid. But these things aren't my truth anymore, and I summoned my sanity and revived myself and my story.

I am strong. I am smart. I know how to love, set boundaries, and empathize. I will be a perfect parent, not because I will always be right, not because I know what I'm doing, and not because I won't mess up my kid. I will be a perfect parent because I will unconditionally love my child and do my absolute best to parent them.

Yesterday, the spies of my childhood returned, and they brought forth the good and the bad – and Kate and I are ready for what's next. This is the last battle before our "search," and I do not have to fight it alone. I have friends and family surrounding me in this process. We have our community, who will bring us pomegranates, figs, and grapes – as well as play dates, used clothes, and lots of love. We trust our strength, intelligence, and faith – and, most importantly – one another.

Only by trusting in myself, my partner, and my community can we take on the commitment of raising a child and believing that we can become the parents we want to be.