Chocolate Trauma Jessi Vance

Chocolate Trauma

By Jessi Vance

The most traumatic part of growing up in Uzbekistan wasn’t the terrorist attack a block away from my school or the medical emergency that temporarily paralyzed my dad or the time basically all of our neighbors got deported. No, the moment that is particularly seared in my memory had to do with chocolate candy.

I don’t know about you, but we used to save our special food—the stuff we could never get in Uzbekistan and that we tucked into every corner and nook of packed-full suitcases when we were returning from a few months in the US. The treats that would sit on the highest shelf in our cabinet for months—sometimes years! My parents were missionaries, and not the kind of missionaries who got a shipping container to move or a travel stipend for “mental health.” No, we were the thrift-shop, local-school, barefootas-much-as-possible, cabbage-soup-for-dinner, suck-it-up-and-don’t-cry kind of missionaries.

So, it had to be a really, really special occasion before it was deemed worthy enough to delve into our treasures of Jello, peanut butter, and marshmallows. The Vance family had a strong tendency toward the sweet kind of snacks, which is one of those weirdly “third culture” things I realize now. I absolutely love the oil- drenched cuisine of Central Asia where dried fruit is considered dessert and yet I still crave things like Oreos and cream cheese.

Anticipation whet my taste buds as Dad brought out the coveted Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. With a crinkle of bright orange paper, I raced my brothers to rip it open and take the first bite of salty sweetness. As I savored the melting flavors, my tongue recognized a difference before my brain did. Something was wrong about the texture. Something gooey. And crunchy. And squirming.

Every third culture kid who grew up in a developing country knows where this is going.

Sure enough, I looked down to see a biteshaped hole that revealed a pile of tiny, wiggling, chocolate-covered maggots. Insert the vomit emoji here. I felt betrayed. Shook. Horrified. Nauseous. There wasn’t enough water or toothpaste in the world to get that slimy feeling out of my mouth. It’s a genuine miracle I was ever able to eat peanut-butter-flavored candy again.

Here’s the thing about growing up as a third culture kid. Sometimes the crisis we experience is massive and life-shifting and heart-wrenching. But there are also smaller crises that happen along the way. There is the painful loss when a good friend is relocated; the deep confusion when God-following missionaries disappoint you and suddenly the God they represent feels confusing, too; the sting of not fitting in… anywhere; the frustration with parents who make massive decisions that affect your life; and the trust that is broken when you bite into your favorite candy, only to get a bite of bugs instead.

So, what do we do? How do we keep our hearts open to new friendships? How do we process the conflicts between cultures that teach us opposing values? How do we tell our parents their job is causing us anxiety? How do we trust a mentor when the big life-changing crisis crashes into our lives? How did I preserve my love for chocolate? “Debrief” is just a fancy way to say “Tell me more.” We know it’s important to debrief traumas or big moves, but we forget that debriefing the little things helps build those muscles for when we need them the most. Here are three easy ways to add consistent debriefing to your daily life:

1. Practice with small steps, like setting up a weekly coffee (or Zoom!) date with a friend and sharing a high and low from the week.

2. Read The Grief Tower: A Practical Guide to Processing Grief with Third Culture Kids by Lauren Wells and do at least one exercise she recommends.

3. Take a risk and lead a Guide Group with Kaleidoscope to help younger third culture kids debrief their experiences. You’ll be surprised how much you learn about yourself too!

Jessi Vance grew up in Central Asia and currently lives outside of Boston, MA, USA. She is the founder and CEO of Kaleidoscope and survives on a strict diet of coffee and airplane food.

Book: The Grief Tower by Lauren Wells Guide Groups: https://www.kldscp.org/tck-volunteer Instagram: @jessi_rue and @kldscp Webpage: www.kldscp.org