This Lotus Daily Reflection explores trauma survivorship, witness, and resilience—honoring Operation Babylift history and the power of storytelling to preserve truth, transform pain, and heal community.
When Survivors Learn to Speak From Clarity, Not Pain
There comes a moment in healing when memory no longer speaks from pain, but from clarity.
For trauma survivors, this moment is not about forgetting what happened. It is about learning how to remember without being consumed. It is the shift from reliving to witnessing, from silence to truth-telling, from survival alone to shared meaning.
Today, I find myself holding both a childhood trauma memory and an unexpected honor—being named a 2025 International Impact Book Awards™ winner for My Life in Mud: A Memoir. These are not separate experiences. They are connected.
This recognition does not exist despite my trauma history. It exists because of what survival made possible.
Trauma Memory, Survivorship, and the Power of Witness
Thirty-eight years ago, when I was thirteen, Christmas was approaching. Our home filled with tradition—Swedish smorgasbord, extended family, and the appearance of celebration. Beneath it all lived deep dysfunction, judgment, alcoholism, abuse, and silence. Holidays were performances layered over pain.
That night, I went to sleep as a child.
I awoke to an apparition—a softly glowing figure outlined in white and warm yellow light. She pulled my covers down and beckoned me to follow her. There was no fear, only urgency and calm. Something in me knew to go.
She led me down the hallway to my parents’ bedroom, where my father—ill for most of my life with a degenerative disease—was choking, aspirating, and covered in blood. The lights came on. The moment shattered. I called 911, shaking. My mother screamed. Accusations filled the room.
This was not a dream. This was trauma memory.
Days later, after saying goodbye to my father without the words “I love you”—words that would haunt me—we received the call at 3 a.m. on Christmas Eve. A priest met us at the hospital. We did not go to the ICU. We were taken to another room. My father was already gone.
I did not cry.
I had been caretaking him for years—feeding tubes, bodily care, witnessing slow loss. Part of me felt relief. Another part felt numb. This is how survivorship sometimes lives quietly inside children.
Operation Babylift: Preserving the Truth of Vietnam War Adoptees
As an Operation Babylift adoptee, my life began inside a much larger historical silence.
Our stories—Vietnam War orphans, displaced children, adoptees separated from language, lineage, and origin—were often summarized, sanitized, or erased. Trauma was individualized. History was simplified.
To tell these stories now is not an act of pain. It is an act of preservation.
Storytelling preserves history.
Truth-telling restores dignity.
Witness honors survival.
When adoptees and trauma survivors speak from clarity, we are not reopening wounds—we are naming truth. We are preserving lived history so it cannot be forgotten or rewritten.
From Mud to Bloom: Turning Survival Into Story
Christmas that year was canceled. Family disappeared. The house filled with silence, alcohol, and grief. We returned to school as if nothing had happened.
The following year, I sang Silent Night as the lead in my church’s Christmas program. I invited my mother. She did not come. Later, she said she did not know it mattered.
That moment taught me how often children disappear inside adult grief.
For years, Christmas meant loss. Sadness became tradition. Trauma shaped expectation.
Healing did not erase those memories. It gave me choice.
From mud to bloom is not about bypassing pain. It is about transforming survival into wisdom. It is about reclaiming authorship over what our lives mean.
This is what My Life in Mud is truly about.
Why Telling Our Stories Preserves History and Heals Community
Receiving the International Impact Book Award does not erase the child I was. It stands beside her. It says: Your story mattered then. It matters now.
This recognition reflects the courage it takes for survivors to speak—not to relive pain, but to offer clarity. To say: I lived this. I survived this. And now I choose what it means.
When survivors share their stories from witness rather than wound, we create space for others to do the same. Our voices become lanterns. Our memories become maps.
If you are a survivor, know this: there will come a day when your story no longer hurts to hold. When resilience becomes visible. When truth becomes medicine.
Our stories do not just belong to us. They belong to history. They belong to community. And when shared with intention, they help others find the courage to bloom.
Adoptee Writing Workshop: Healing Through Story and Shared Witness
For adoptees and trauma survivors, writing is more than reflection—it is reclamation.
As part of the My Life in Mud journey, I offer an Adoptee Writing Workshop designed to support those who feel called to explore, name, and share their life stories with clarity and care. This space is especially held for Operation Babylift survivors and others impacted by adoption, displacement, war, and early separation.
Writing your story does not require reliving pain. In a trauma-informed environment, it becomes a way to witness your experiences without being overwhelmed by them. Through guided reflection, memory mapping, and narrative practices, participants learn how to recognize lifelong patterns, honor survival strategies, and translate lived experience into language that feels true and grounded.
This workshop is co-held in the spirit of shared experience. Working alongside another Operation Babylift survivor offers a rare and powerful form of witnessing—one rooted in understanding, historical truth, and lived knowledge. Together, we hold space for stories that have often been silenced, simplified, or misunderstood.
The intention is not to rewrite the past, but to reclaim authorship of your story. To write from perspective rather than pain. To find your voice without apology. And to decide—on your own terms—whether your story is shared privately, within community, or offered to the world.
Healing happens when stories are seen, named, and honored. This workshop exists to preserve history, support trauma survivorship, and help adoptees transform memory into meaning—one story at a time.
Resources
Paperback Retail:
https://books.by/my-life-in-mud/my-life-in-mud
Kindle:
https://a.co/d/3hm21VV
Shop:
https://mylifeinmud.com/shop/
Courses & Healing Journeys:
https://mylifeinmud.com/courses/