The purpose of a mirror is to reflect a clear and accurate image. We look into mirrors to see the truth about ourselves in that moment. If a mirror is dirty, we clean it so the image won’t be distorted. If it is shattered, we toss it, because it can no longer project a true picture. Mirrors teach us who we are and help us grow more confident in who we understand ourselves to be. They also help us present ourselves to the outside world. Mirrors affirm and confirm our identity.

Imagine if you spent your whole life without ever being able to see your reflection in a mirror. If you are a person who has been visually impaired or blind since birth, this is something you understand. I recently watched the documentary Becoming Helen Keller. This visionary blind and deaf pioneer said that her hands were to her what eyes and ears are to seeing and hearing people. She talked about how reliant one becomes on the other senses when one or more is missing. The truth is we adapt when one of our senses is lost.

I am an adopted person, and a woman with no biological children. Adoptees often use the metaphor of mirrors to help describe the role of genetics in our identity formation. Many of us experience genetic bewilderment when we do not see reflections of ourselves in known relatives, ancestors, or descendants. I grew up in a home with two other adopted siblings, a mother and father, none genetically related. We were all white, but that was the only common cultural trait we shared, and it wasn’t enough to anchor my identity as a human being. I often felt lost and confused growing up, never having genetic mirrors around me that reflected my nature through familiar personality traits, body types, health histories, or shared cultural traditions. I spent decades insatiably searching, desperate to understand who I was, why I was relinquished, how I survived, and where I belonged.

One of my earliest adaptations was learning to deeply reflect without mirrors. In fact, it became my greatest superpower. I remember growing up wondering whether each person I met was my biological mother, father, brother, or sister. From my youngest years, I never wanted to reject anyone because they might be part of me. My identity as an adoptee pre-dispositioned me to the practices of radical inclusion and self-reflection. This is an example of how our pain can become our purpose, and it is the foundation of my personal beliefs and professional life.

I am a leadership coach, an Airbnb host, and in 2021 I started a retreat center on the shores of Lake Michigan. I work with individuals and teams helping them reflect deeply and honestly through valid and reliable self-assessment tools. We start with the questions, who am I and why am I here? Answering these requires vulnerability and self-disclosure, key ingredients to developing trust and shared purpose. I am uniquely qualified to guide others through this because of my own personal history of using reflection to survive and thrive in a world without mirrors.

Simon Sinek is a well-known author and speaker featured in this TED talk for his book Start with Why. His big idea is that the world’s best leaders start with explaining their why before they get to what or how. To this approach, I say yes, and add that before we know our why, we must first know ourselves. When you lack genetic mirrors, as most adoptees do, there are other reflection tools that can increase our self-awareness.

In my work, I use the Johari Window as a model to increase self-awareness. It is a powerful tool for increasing our understanding of ourselves and the world around us. This model is illustrated as a window with four panes, each representing different parts of ourselves: Information is known by us and known by others (open self); known by us and unknown by others (hidden self); known by others and unknown by us (blind self); and unknown by both us and others (unknown self). The panes can get larger or smaller depending on how open we are to giving and receiving feedback. The blind and unknown panes can feel like giant chasms for adoptees who haven’t had genetic mirrors or access to accurate information about their history and genetics.

Here is an example: If you were to see a picture of me, you would know that part of my “open self” is that I wear fun and funky glasses. Part of my “hidden self” is that I had a hysterectomy earlier this year. You wouldn’t know this about me unless I disclosed it to you.

I confronted my blind self this fall when my husband lovingly shared that he was seeing changes in my mental health following my hysterectomy. He helped me recognize what I wasn’t seeing in myself, which prompted me to have a conversation with my doctor and actively seek therapy to work through my unprocessed grief. Making the unknown known reduces our blind self, but we have to be receptive to asking for and receiving feedback and disclosing parts of ourselves to others.

The unknown pane is that which is unknown to us and to others. The pandemic is an example of a shared experience none of us predicted or prepared for. We have discovered things we and others did not know we were capable of, like how to work and learn from home, shelter in place, and navigate the uncertainty and impermanence of our physical and emotional health. It is in this window where we have transformational discoveries – like a vaccine in record time. We are also seeing seismic shifts in our understanding of how Covid-19 has altered the future of work through The Great Resignation. Many people are asking, what’s next? How do we reorient ourselves, pivot and create a meaningful life and fulfilling career in the pandemic era?

You have most likely heard the adage, “When one door closes, another opens.” This is often said in moments of disappointment, like when we lose a job, or the house we put an offer on fell through, or we go through a difficult breakup. It’s an invitation to reframe the situation, which is another favorite tool of mine, but sometimes changing the frame isn’t enough, especially in moments of big transition. Sometimes we need to reimagine the picture entirely.

An ancient Japanese ideology called Ikigai can help us align our lives with our purpose. Ikigai seeks to integrate what you love, what you’re great at, what you get paid for, and what the world needs. These questions can be used to create a vision board that visualizes hopes and dreams for the future, and as prompts for reflection.

Life is too short to not live it on purpose. My purpose is to inspire, empower, and equip leaders to change their world. I guide people through these and other reflection tools on their journey of self-discovery, teaching mindsets and skillsets that facilitate healing and wholeness. I fully realized and embraced my life purpose once I unlocked the door to my identity.

When I started my consulting practice, I had lived for almost 45 years without ever knowing or seeing anyone that I was biologically related to. Because of a change in adoption policy in the state of Ohio in 2015, I gained the legal right to my original birth certificate and learned the names of my biological parents. I had been searching for them for more than 25 years, in part because I believe knowing who we are helps us discern where we are going. Here is my reunion story. Over the past six years, I have traveled the country and the world meeting more than 25 biological relatives, and, for the first time, I have seen my reflection in others. I have genetic mirrors, and these have helped me feel grounded and complete. I understand the complexity and confluence of nature and nurture.

The best way I can describe it is that knowing where I came from felt like giving birth to myself. Being in reunion with my biological relatives felt like giving birth to a family. Having my adoptive and biological families know each other feels like I’ve integrated the different parts of me in a way that has brought me unparalleled peace and joy. I’ve been in a writing group for the past year and decided to share my story now, because Adoptee Voices matter, and I’m here to change the world.