FUNCTIONAL DYSFUNCTION: From Sour Grapes to Fine Wine

Introduction

Life can be a bumpy ride, and for some of us, our greatest challenges can present themselves as early as childhood and in the worst of ways. How we deal with those early challenges is often what will shape our world and how we see it. This can either make our path crystal clear, or blurry and obscured, as we travel the road along life’s journey.

As a physician and a minister, I bear witness to both the joys and the sorrows of my patients and congregants. I see the world as an interplay of body, mind, and spirit. And at the intersection of these two pieces of my life, I have come to find that every experience—whether painful or pleasant—offers an opportunity for growth, a chance to turn our sour grapes into a fine wine.

My early life, as you will come to find, began with a hefty helping of sour grapes. Now, years later, I feel as though the path I am on (albeit quite mundane) is my destiny. As I looked back on the road I have traveled thus far, I began to ponder from whence I came. And, in doing so, I realized that many others have likely shared similar challenges and may benefit from hearing my story and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.

Some of my childhood memories are too painful to process, while others are all too vivid and I have vowed to take those family secrets to my grave. Yet they each live in my mind and soul, and they affect how I see the world and how I relate to people. I experienced firsthand how emotional trauma can affect every aspect of one’s life. Never hearing the words I love you left an indelible mark on me. I knew that no child should ever have to yearn and beg to be loved. No child should have to wonder if they are loved. No child should have to somehow wrap their mind and heart around why they were molested for years in silence, as I did. I endured all of this, and more, and if I had ended up strung out on some numbing drugs—be it alcohol or some other form of chemical dependence—perhaps no one would have faulted me, and maybe they would have even shown a semblance of love, more clearly identified as pity. Thankfully, this was not the path I took.

It wasn’t until adulthood that these and other wounds fully came to bear, presenting me with the choice to either deal with them or allow them to deal with me. As the years went by, I began to see the effects of my scars, and more specifically, the buried, painful, unresolved secret wounds of my soul and how they were robbing me of the coolness and levelheadedness that had once earned me the name of Captain Cool in junior high school.

Yes, the years have flown by. Titles have been added to my name: husband, father, minister, Bible teacher, medical student, and physician. This journey would not have taken place, and I would have remained in an emotional and psychological barren land had I not recognized that there is pain in change, and there is pain in staying the same. I chose the one that would move me forward.

This has been a bittersweet journey, one that has forced me to dig deep into my past and let those wounds bleed again so that I could heal. In this life, our childhood stories are not isolated. We sometimes paint a prettier picture of how things were to help us cope. This mindset then carries over into other areas of our life, be it staying in an abusive relationship, staying at a job that attacks your self-worth, or continuing with friendships that aren’t healthy. But in our dysfunctional thoughts, we think these choices are better than being alone. So, being a doormat becomes the alternative. But why? Because our self-esteem is so damaged by our upbringing (or lack thereof) that we don’t feel worthy of having it any better than we have it now? That wasn’t my stance. I grabbed the bull by the horns, so to speak, and I took control of my life. I was determined to no longer allow things that go bump in the night of my consciousness to paralyze me from seeking the abundant life I desired. In time, it all came to fruition and I now have a deep sense of accomplishment and purpose. I have developed a life of fulfillment, self-valuation, and actualization in spite of it all. If this was within my reach, it is within your reach as well. But you have to go get it. It will not be handed to you.

The time is now. No longer will you settle for a mediocre version of yourself. You have much more to offer, and the path is yours to create. No one but yourself can know the physical, emotional, and psychological obstacles that lie before you. To be the best version of yourself, you must break free from the vines of emotional and psychological poison that keep you thinking, My parents ate the sour grapes so now my teeth are set on edge. Instead, you must transform those sour grapes into a fine wine of wisdom, grace, and hope for a better future. For me, part of that journey involved gaining a better understanding of my parents and accepting that they did the best they could with what they had to work with. They did their best, being damaged goods themselves, just as we all have fallen short of that elusive perfect upbringing.

It is never too late to create a version 2.0 of yourself. But you must be willing to confront the skeletons in your closet and give them a proper and decent burial. Then move on and move forward, with proper closure for yourself and for others, so that you can take a leap of faith into a newness of life never before experienced. And that starts now.

Home: A Safe Haven for Survival

Every child wants their home to be a place of refuge and safety, a place of nurturing, where one’s personality can blossom, flourish, and thrive. My home was not a safe haven. When I was faced with this reality in my childhood, it fractured my idea of what I had wanted home to be, and I was forced to adjust. I knew early on that rebellion would not be a viable option. By instilling fear at a young age, my father had kept me from engaging in any behaviors that would have brought on severe consequences. So, my only options were to comply, conform, and adapt. Yet I continued to hold on to that ideal of a safe haven, as though it were a