I don’t watch scary movies. Ever. At all. I’m not interested in being scared for fun. The daily diaper changes and the ever-present laundry question “what is in that pocket” are about all the suspense my body can handle. So I was not that interested in watching “Stranger Things” in spite of all the positive reviews. I am a married woman, so I am not the sole possessor of the remote control and one night found my husband fully engaged in the first episode. He continued to watch through the series and I joined him for bits and pieces as I could tolerate it, which eventually lead to me half hiding under a blanket watching the last two episodes in their entirety. And I cried.
I had recently been talking to a fellow Trauma Mama (someone raising a child who has been through really difficult life circumstances before joining their family) and working to encourage her in the struggle. My heart had been overwhelmed for her and for our kids as we work to create safe, trusting relationships with children who have had that trust broken in the past. It is hard, delicate work. Often we see the symptoms of the problem as “bad choices” our kids are making and struggle to correctly identify that they are dealing with their own safety issues and need both our calm nurturing presence, and to know we will provide structure that gives them boundaries and keeps them safe.
I know. These two topics (trauma informed parenting and “Stranger Things”) do not seem related.
But as I watched Joyce (a mother) talk quietly, calmly, with such total peace to Eleven- a thoroughly traumatized child without the ability to trust anyone- I saw that familiar spark. That passion of a mother who is going to do whatever it takes to prove she is trustworthy. Several scenes later, Eleven is asked to face her greatest fear– a fear that involves returning to an environment that has been unsafe for her in the past– but this time she’s doing it with the loving support of a mother and a team of friends.
There was something uniquely beautiful about watching Eleven receive comfort from this mother figure (who wasn’t even HER mother, which of course spoke to me even more strongly) and then be able to be strong, be fiercely protective of her friends, and face some terrifying unknowns. While the specifics (creepy aliens and some kind of other dimension I still don’t fully understand) are obviously not common to most foster or adoptive family situations, this kind of interaction IS.
Many of us have learned that when we think our kids are overreacting about being hungry, they may actually be dealing with an understandable panic because they were literally starving at some point in their young lives. When we think it’s silly that our child is screaming in pain over a small scratch, we have to remind ourselves that this may be a child who didn’t ever experience appropriate comforting when they were hurt in the past. When a child doesn’t want us to EVER leave their sight even for a moment, we have to remember that there was a time when their trusted caregiver (even if they shouldn’t have been trusted) abandoned them. Where we see simple scenarios with easy answers, our kids see terror, panic, monsters.
It’s when we do just what Joyce did– promise to be present, promise to listen if our child is overwhelmed, promise to protect them with all we have– that’s when we build trust with our kids. When all we can see is our own perception, our own dimension, we make it tough for our kids to know we’re going to have their back. When they see that we’re entering into their world, their way of seeing things, their fears, then we can offer help in the way they most need it.
What really struck me in watching “Stranger Things” (and what brought out the rare appearance of actual tears for me) was in seeing what that kind of love, trust and support enabled Eleven to do. At one point the fear overtakes her and she isn’t able to continue. In that moment she receives the full support from this mother figure even at a potential great cost to the mom. This support makes Eleven brave from that moment and through the rest of the episode. She is able to face the things that had made her most afraid, even able to face the frightening things from her past because she had experienced love and it was worth fighting for.
Because I am a mom to children I wasn’t able to protect during their early days, I am often struck by the thought at how their lives might have been different if they had been safe and loved from the beginning. I’ve wondered about what struggles they might have avoided and what problems might have never become issues for them. I saw that played out in front of me as I watched “Stranger Things.” What kind of reality could have been created if Eleven had been treated with love and compassion from the beginning instead of being treated like an object, a possession? Without parental support, she panicked and chaos ensued, but with loving support she had the capacity for much more.
I know I tend to see adoption, foster care and trauma around every corner– Star Wars is a movie about kinship adoptees looking to make peace with their biological family, Superman is about an adoptee finding his place and gifts in the universe, Cinderella was an orphan looking for love and acceptance. We are a culture obsessed with orphans and their uniquenesses, which I’m often thankful for because it gives my kids heroes. In “Stranger Things” I found a hero for myself, too. A mom willing to fight for children even when everyone thought she was crazy, even when the child seemed unreachable, even when this mother was afraid.
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