Your past does NOT define you
By: Vladic Grabot
Tags: Adoption, Success, Mental Health, Russia

Huge thanks for Tamara Schipchinskaya from Unsplash.com!

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter what’s been done to you. It is never too late to make a change.

We don’t have control over the things that have happened to us, but what we do have control over is our response.

No joke…I’m getting chills as I’m writing this. Or maybe it’s the BTS song I’m listening to. Oh well.

But I believe in this message so much that it defines my life. If I didn’t believe so strongly in it, I’m not even sure that I would still be alive.

Because my life was hopeless. My past is so scarred that most people would admit defeat. And I’m only 22 years old.

And who am I today? Someone with a purpose. A dream. A vision.

Someone who isn’t afraid.

And trust me, that didn’t happen overnight. It’s taken a lot of tears, a lot of heartache, and a lot of pain.

But guess what? I didn’t give up.

And here’s what I want you to know…

Neither should you.

Trust me…there were plenty of times that I wanted to just throw in the towel. But every time I did, there would always be someone or something to bring me back. So, if that’s you right now, let me be that person. Let me be possibly the only person out there giving you hope in the middle of utter despair. Because this message is something that you might need to hear right now.

Your life has purpose. It has meaning. There is absolutely NOTHING anyone could ever say or do that could ever change that. Everyone has a story to tell. And it’s about time that I told mine.

I was born in Russia 22 years ago in an extremely poor town. Born to two young parents just as old as I am now.

Parents who weren’t fit to parent.

They spent all their money on drugs and alcohol and spent all their time going to parties. So they would just leave me and my brother (who is a year older than me) on our own to try to survive.

When they were there, we would get constantly abused and molested.

When they weren’t there, we would starve and have absolutely no one to take care of our needs.

And we were BABIES. Nothing about this was fair.

I have a hard time believing that any parents just hate or couldn’t care less about their own children. I think that all parents have that spark and love in their heart for their kids.

But my parents really make me think otherwise. Because looking back, I can’t think of a single thing that they did that was good or nice in any way.

Except not killing us, I guess.

Ok, that one’s morbid. I’m sorry about that.

But seriously, what parents would just beat up their babies and toddlers and leave them on their own to starve? I honestly don’t get it.

So, this carried on for years, and things got so bad that eventually that the police had to remove us from our parents.

Just think about that for a second. We’re in RUSSIA. The police couldn’t care less about us. So if they’re removing us from them, then it’s a pretty big deal.

So, my brother and I were taken from our homes and placed into an orphanage with tons of other orphan kids. Being placed into an orphanage in Russia basically means that all hope is lost.

No one adopts kids who aren’t babies. You get treated horribly by the leaders. At least you get rationed food.

It’s a horrible system that makes the American foster care system seem like the greatest thing to ever exist.

We were abused by the leaders. My brother and I were separated. And with the orphanages, when you turn 16 you get kicked out and put on the streets to beg for the rest of your life.

Most of the orphans spend the rest of their lives begging. They overdose on drugs and alcohol. And then they die.

Some as teenagers. Some as young adults.

But no one lives long.

So yeah, basically all hope was stripped from us. But God had other plans.

Now if you don’t believe in God, then I don’t know what to say.

Obviously, you’re free to believe whatever you want. But it’s because of God and God alone that I’m even alive today.

God was working in my life and I didn’t even know it. He had a plan for me, and that plan did NOT include being thrown on the streets to die alone.

So with that, let’s switch the narrative.

Allow me to introduce you to Jim and Sherrie Grabot in 2004.

Jim works in a high-ranking position at PG&E, which is California’s utility company. Sherrie owns her own software company which specializes in investment software.

They live in sunny California, in Los Gatos. A small town about an hour south of San Francisco that is home to a lot of well-off people.

They own a nice house, are involved in their church, and are close with all of their extended family. They’ve been married for 21 years and haven’t been able to have any children.

But even though they don’t have other kids, they’re around them a lot. Around their many nieces and nephews. And around a lot of kids at church since they’re involved in child ministry.

Because of their involvement in their church, their pastor sends them an email about an opportunity coming up in August. Turns out that there’s a local organization that brought in kids from around the world to see and experience the US for a few weeks and then go back home.

Their pastor asked them if they would be interested in hosting one of these kids for a few weeks, and my parents agreed.

They did mention that they might be better off hosting more than one kid, and asked if there were any sibling pairs among all the kids.

There were multiple options, but Jim and Sherrie eventually chose two small Russian boys, ages 6 and 7.

Me and my brother.

I don’t quite know how we were chosen to travel to the United States. In my mind, there’s no explanation other than the fact that God wanted us to live.

Not just live but be given the chance at a second life.

We spent three weeks attending the camp during the day, and then spending the time with Jim and Sherrie for the rest of the time.

When we didn’t have the camp, they took us hiking, swimming, and to the beach. We got dentist and doctors appointments. We got introduced to the rest of their family.

It was during this time that I had my very first positive memories — the first things that I personally recall in my life.

At the end of the three weeks, we had a great time, but we had to go back to Russia. So we said goodbye forever…or so we thought.

But about a week later, Sherrie had a feeling. So strong.

Stronger than anything.

And that feeling was that they should adopt these two Russian boys who had come into their lives. She tried to shake it away but couldn’t.

She told her husband, talked and prayed about it, and then they came to the decision.

YES. They would adopt.

So then came the three-month phase of traveling back and forth, filling tons of paperwork, but finally, on December 21, 2004 it finally happened.

My brother and I had a new home.

And a new life.

So, fast-forward to today. Life is a lot different than it was then. But one thing is for certain…that event changed my life.

And now I’m a 22-year-old guy with a story. A story with power, hope, and inspiration.

And the story is not over. There’s still a long way to go, but I know that I’m on the right path. And if there’s even the slimmest chance that I can help even one other person find hope, then all of this is worth it.

The journey has been so hard. But it’s a fight worth fighting. Every single bit of it. All the tears, all the sleepless nights, and all the arguments were worth it. Because I have finally found hope and I really want people to realize that it’s not impossible.

It’s not easy — definitely not easy — but also not impossible.

I think it goes without say, but I just wanted to say that I’m not perfect. I still have issues. And I’ll always have issues for as long as I live.

But if I can make a decision to conquer those issues, I hope you can think that you can as well.

Yes, the story starts with me, but it ends with you. And the main thing that I want to sink in for you is that it is NEVER over.

No matter how hopeless you feel…there is always hope.

The light is always there. Whether you see and feel it or not.

And I hope that you never lose hope. Because your past does NOT define you.