She Is: A Celebration of Women: Part 1
The Reality of Broken:
Introducing Jennifer Manuleleua
March 4, 2022 | By: CSL Vice President Community Development, Jennifer Manuleleua & CSL Chief People Officer, Merideth Rose
In 2020, CSL committed out through the adoption of its core values statements, it was time to lead and lean in a different direction. It was time to not only tell the countless stories of how its neighbors had been lifted up and out of poverty, but CSL as an organization was ready to lean into culture: seeing, valuing, celebrating and most importantly embracing the experiences of a wide variety of people; many of which for years had gone unseen, and truly unheard. With this embrace, CSL would continue in its most-treasured activity of telling the stories of how it supported individuals in their most fragile of times, but it also meant a brand new and somewhat scary posture of doing absolutely nothing. Nothing but listening.
Immediately, CSL initiated a very intentional and expansive deep dive to see, serve and better understand everyone it can. The first and most noteworthy fruit of this work? The 2022 Experience Community series which launched with the Black Excellence experience and creative expression exhibit at CSL’s BlendWell Community Cafe in recognition of February as Black History Month.
Today, CSL continues in its evolving posture as a convener of life stories by recognizing the month of March as a month in celebration of women - their stories of struggle, heroism, survival and ultimately - the healing reality of resilience.
Jennifer Manuleleua
CSL’s Chief People Officer, Merideth Rose sat down with Jennifer Manuleleua, CSL Vice President of Community Development to introduce a very personal connection to CSL’s month-long observance, She Is: A Celebration of Women. Introducing Part 1 of a very moving and unprecedented four-part story: The Reality of Broken: Introducing Jennifer Manuleleua.
Most resilience stories encompass a journey which includes or often begins at a time in which someone was at their lowest or perhaps the reality of utter brokenness. Would you say in your life’s story, you’ve had an experience with this space? What did the reality of brokenness look like for Jennifer Manuleleua?
I have always been a competitor, a striver, a perfectionist, even as long as I can remember. I thought everything was okay. I grew up in a space where you ‘put your big girl panties on’ and do it anyway. You don’t feel. You don’t admit pain. You don’t acknowledge trauma. You push it down and go. And, you for sure never admit to anything connected to mental health or depression. I was a pro at that.
After college, when sports and achieving academic success were over, I had no idea how to be. Later, I realized that year-round sports and excelling in academics were part of my survival; my “making it.” But after college, I started crying - and I’ve never been a crier. I had no idea what was going on with me in so many ways. I had nightmares and more. So I “played” at therapy. I didn’t really do the work, and I only went part of the time. And things just kept getting worse. I started to make life decisions that were unsafe and unhealthy. I was later told I had depression and C-PTSD. Not ever one for labels, I refused them initially, continually looking for ways to push all of that down and just keep going. I was in relationships with people who were violent or stole from me. The truth is I came to the realization that these unhealthy relationships were continually becoming more unhealthy.
I lived with alarms on my doors and windows … on a 3rd story one-bedroom apartment. I checked every nook and cranny every night to ensure nothing was there to hurt me. I stayed in my apartment with the blinds pulled if I wasn’t at work or the gym.
How did this period of brokenness impact your emotional response and perspective of life as a woman - your identity, your strength, your courage, etc.?
During the years of my lowest times, I had no idea who I was. I only knew who I’d been told and (subsequently) believed I was and what my worth was. I couldn’t live in any authentic way, because I had no real idea who that was. I was continually striving to be perfect in every way. I would never have called any of my actions strong or courageous. But surviving and breathing another day is exactly that.
To be honest, answering this from the lens of life as a woman - that was really hard for me. I was single, had no children, didn’t enjoy cooking, and just wanted to live. I knew what I thought I was expected to do as a woman, and I knew that wasn’t where I was. In truth, in my quiet spaces, I was lost and I had no idea who I really was. In every way possible, I wanted to live in the shadows; hidden, protected and unseen. My only safety was to hide in everything - how I dressed and behind the brave but lifeless mask I put on every day. I wanted to be a woman, but I didn’t really know how in a way that felt genuine.
All of that had been taken from me. I thought I was supposed to be a body and a person for use, not for being. I lost my identity and in many senses - the beautiful authenticity of what truly makes a woman, a woman.
Many times the weight and scars of trauma become so heavy for women doing their best to put on a brave face and keep doing what women ought. For you, how did pushing on with the facade of the ‘winning woman’ impact your ability to care for yourself and your family while trying to survive the ongoing trauma? Do you see this same reality in the women that CSL serves?
In the deepest times of my pain (and while doing the hardest work of the healing), I was single. I found that to truly be a blessing. I was able to focus on my healing during the hardest days. I craved connection and relationship, but found myself unable to choose truly safe and healthy relationships. I had to dive into the hard work of healing on my own.
The hard work of getting up every day during the pain, and the hard work of healing, took an incredible amount of energy … all while wearing a face that conveys, “I am alright and everything is great.” Carrying the weight of trauma and the journey that is healing is extremely exhausting. No wonder trauma causes early illness for the body if not taken care of. Not only that, I began to have physical manifestations that had no cause. But the healthier I got emotionally and mentally, the healthier I got physically as well.
I absolutely see the hard work of surviving each and every day the people we have the privilege of meeting and walking alongside face. I honor them. Making a decision, waking up, putting food on the table, doing whatever you know to do to keep your family going is hard work… especially when you carry the weight of unresolved or ongoing pain and hurt. When you may not know who you are outside of that pain. When you aren’t sure who to trust. When you feel isolated. When a pandemic hits. You want more for your kids and family, but in truth, you have no idea what that is or how to get there. Life is often more of a reaction than a planned response. And then, when you walk into places where you are expected to behave a certain way, think a certain way, look a certain way and you don’t, more shame is heaped upon you.
I think that is one of the hardest parts of dealing with pain and hard times. Now that I understand the brain science behind it, it takes on a whole new meaning. When one is surviving through fight, flight or freeze response, she is not in her problem-solving brain. When she walks into a room, the relationship side of her brain immediately looks to safety before any kind of problem-solving or future thinking can happen. She immediately goes to relationship - am I safe or loved? Can I trust here or not? Brain science says that is where a person goes before thinking clearly. And for people living through poverty, the spaces they most often go (work, children’s schools, agencies for support, advocating with landlords), expect these survivors to show up differently and better equipped than they actually can and are able to, while in the throes of trauma. More often than not, trauma greatly impacts our ability to “show up and be present.”
That’s why CSL building a trusting, safe, transparent relationship with our neighbors is so important. We might be the first person who believed in that neighbor, regardless of the circumstances. A Family Stability Coach might be the first person who sticks with someone even when they need to take a few months off. A Financial Coach might be the first person who believes that a once trauma-ridden single mother can have a bright financial future. By CSL believing in the power of YET (not yet but it’s coming), we give value to those who are fighting to survive through pain, trauma, abuse, and even the trauma of chronic poverty. The hard work of healing and getting through trauma to the other side is the hardest work I’ve ever done. Having people believe in me before I did the hard work was paramount to me even trying.
Do you believe trauma can be the foundation, trigger or unresolved root of poverty? What does this mean for women who have the challenge of being ‘superwoman’ in so many aspects of their household (caretaker, mom, wife, provider)?
I think trauma can be a foundational root of poverty (financial, social, health, spiritual). There are many reasons people find themselves in financial poverty (divorce, medical challenges, etc.). The actions people take to survive after or through the trauma can often lead to or keep us in financial poverty. Maybe it’s living with a deficit mindset - I’m not worth saving money for the future. I’m not good enough to even think about having a beautiful future. Maybe it’s feeling the need to have someone in your life who uses your money, uses you, puts you down, uses violence against you, that keeps you stuck in poverty. Or, maybe not having a new, healthy support system wrapped around you because you are afraid that someone will see the ‘real’ you (or the you you believe you are). Trauma changes our brains. Our brains start driving down paths that weren’t originally what we were created for; so we start behaving and believing in things that aren’t true. To our brain and our body, they are true. Until we change the narrative of our thoughts, we will continue to live in that poverty. Changing the narrative of our thoughts to rewire our brains and our belief systems is really hard work. It’s not just a snap of the fingers. As I said earlier, for me, the hard work of changing my belief system and my actions (as a result of trauma and pain) was the hardest work I ever did. It was way harder than surviving … even if the way I was surviving was absolutely not working for me anymore.
I would be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the role of community trauma and how that keeps people stuck in poverty. Community trauma has kept many in educational, financial and social poverty for entirely too long. That’s a much larger conversation for another day.
For many women, brokenness is the birthplace of hope and what’s possible. How has your reality and experience with utter brokenness brought you to this work at CSL, and ultimately what is your greatest hope for women with similar stories to yours?
Brokenness – hitting the bottom – can be the birthplace of hope. When I decided I wanted more, even when I had absolutely no idea what more was or how to get it, I began to have a small glimmer of hope. When people believed in me for me - held space for me - that’s when hope grew even more.
I want to be really clear that this was my story. My traumas and my path to healing were the path I was on. My resiliency factors were unique to MY story. They cannot be used to compare someone else to. Someone else’s pain, challenge, trauma and situation is THEIR story. Society likes to lump people into categories and assign solutions without knowing stories or people. Until we are willing to sit in the “messy” with people and care for them as the unique individuals they are and where they are, we add to the pain with our judgment, even well-intentioned judgment. At CSL, we are continually learning and growing in our understanding of true empathy and meeting people where they are as individuals. And understanding that together, we support each other to learn, grow and become. We aren’t perfect at it, but we are aiming for that.
Stay tuned as we continue Jennifer’s story next week with Part 2: Breakthrough: When Healing Gives Way to Hope.
