Personal Narrative: My Life In Nazi Germany

I once heard that we carry the sins of our fathers. For me this statement rings true as my parents passed their guilt and shame about their ancestry on to me. I grew up in Los Angeles, the daughter of a biracial father and a German mother, and attended a coed private school from pre-K to 6th grade. During the summers my brothers and I went to Germany. Although I felt strong ties to my German heritage my mom never spoke about what it was like to grow up under fascism in Nazi Germany. Similarly, my father did not speak about his family and his ethnicity was never talked about. I sensed there was some shame surrounding the subject and whenever I brought up the topic my parents quickly changed the subject. Their avoidance became the basis
Concurrently I was working as a production assistant at CBS Television. Although working at an entertainment company was fun I knew there were limited opportunities for growth, especially for women. One day a man walked into the building and waved a gun around threatening to kill people. I corralled my department together and calmly escorted them outside to safety. My coworkers were shocked at my cool demeanor. Little did they know that this was not my first gunfight.
Because food and weight loss issues come from a psychological place I knew that I did not have the tools to help my clients dig deeper into their own issues. My limited experience frustrated me and I realized that I was at a crossroads in my life. The answer was out there I just needed to access it. I immersed myself into my yoga practice and worked closely with a mentor to delve into the inner workings of my psyche. She helped me navigate the murky waters of my soul and guided me towards the surface where I learned that I was holding myself at gunpoint. I never let myself fully blossom because I was sticking to the script that my parents had written for me. For the first three decades of my life I thought I had to live up to all these expectations placed on me by my parents of who I should be or where I should be and other people’s notions of success. My husband allowed me the space to work through the sticky bits. He watched as I cried and squirmed, struggling to break free from the strong, dysfunctional cocoon that kept me imprisoned all of these years. The sum of my experiences contributed to this crucial breakthrough, which is the springboard of my pursuing a career in psychology. Once I made this decision I truly felt that I found the missing piece of the puzzle.
Because I lived in various cities, worked diverse jobs, and traveled all over the world I have exposure