Truth be told, I’m not a Hoffman ‘poster child’ for a complete life turnaround. Nor can I boast about being significantly transformed for the better — at least not in the eyes of the world. How others perceive me rarely aligns with my own inner journey. It’s a dissonance I’ve grappled with throughout my life, likely stemming from my identity as a transracial adoptee from Hong Kong, thrust into the UK in the tumultuous ’60s.
And now here I am, in my early 60s, feeling like someone hit fast-forward on the remote control of my life. I’ve had so many aspirations, from finding my birth family to simply keeping myself well and content. To support my efforts, I always kept a ‘SomeDayMaybe’ file, teeming with dreams and desires waiting to be realised. In the middle of the pandemic, it was there, tucked away amidst clippings and leaflets, that I found an inspirational article by Serena Gordon, Co-Founder and Managing Director of Hoffman UK, that I had squirrelled away years ago.
Despite being a global catastrophe, the pandemic brought with it a few unexpected silver linings, such as the need to connect with the world in new ways, and this included Hoffman’s launch of their Hoffman Essentials online course. I was lucky enough to do this weekend course in 2020. For me, it was the perfect appetiser, offering a glimpse into the transformative power of the full Hoffman Process. Hungry for more, as soon as I could, I eagerly enrolled in the full seven-day Process in April 2023, determined to build upon the foundation of self-development I’d laid over the years. Despite many years of therapy, I could still feel the weight of a lifetime’s emotional baggage – much of it stemming from my childhood experiences.
Born in a hut in Hong Kong in 1960, my starving and destitute birth mother put me into an orphanage at 10 weeks. At 15 months old, I embarked on a journey that would shape the course of my life forever. I was sent to the UK to be adopted by a white British family who already had two biological children of their own. At first, life with my new family was filled with happiness and love. I have fond memories of my childhood, but as I entered my teenage years, cracks began to appear. The longing to uncover my roots grew stronger, fuelled by a persistent sense of displacement and a desire to unearth the truth about my origins. Yet my adoptive family remained silent on the matter, and tensions within the household escalated. After a series of hardships—including a near-fatal accidental overdose, expulsion from school mid ‘A’ levels, and complete rejection by my entire adoptive family—I found myself adrift at 19, cut off from the only life I had ever known.
The next two decades were marked by continued struggles and a relentless search for identity and belonging. I tried to put aside my need to unearth my roots, which was exacerbated by having no communication with my adoptive family. For a while I was able to keep myself and my own new young family together, presenting the world with the semblance of stability and normality. But the cracks in this façade got wider, and my late thirties marked the ending of my first marriage and the saddest time as a MATCH. (Mother Apart from Their Children)
In my forties and fifties, despite all my early setbacks, I settled down to enjoy family life once more. I entered into a second marriage aged 40, and took the time to rebuild and forge strong relationships with my children – not to mention the wonder of new beginnings with the arrival of a granddaughter. But I continued to grapple with the shadows of my past. The natural curiosity of my daughter about her heritage and my granddaughter’s birth stirred something deep within me – an overwhelming need to make one final attempt to find my, my children’s and now my granddaughter’s Chinese roots. Instinctively, I decided to embark on a 90-day journey to Hong Kong, booking the cheapest flight and a bed in an 8-bed dormitory, returning on Valentine’s Day 2019. Despite the formidable obstacles I faced, including not being able to speak Chinese, I persevered.
The quest culminated in an outcome beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Yet, even as I found what I’d been searching for my whole life, it wasn’t the happy ending I had dreamed of. The joy of discovery was tinged with confusion and feeling torn – wanting to be in Hong Kong and at the same time be in the UK. This was compounded by the challenges of returning from a third visit to Hong Kong in 2020 to find my second marriage was faltering. All against the backdrop of a global pandemic.
2020 was meant to be my auspicious year according to both the British and Chinese calendars. My auspicious Year Of The Rat comes only once every twelve years, AND I had my big 60th birthday. Sadly, I was far from jubilant.
As I battled with conflicting emotions, the Hoffman Process emerged as a lifeline—a ray of hope in turbulent times. In April 2023, with 23 peers by my side (many of whom I’m still in touch with) and three facilitators who both challenged and supported me while keeping me totally safe, I confronted my deepest fears and found forgiveness for all those who I felt had failed to love me as they should. I made peace with my past and developed newfound resilience to navigate life’s twists and turns.
In the run up to the Process, I was asked to pause my routine of daily swimming, yoga and meditation for the week. I was upset, but thankfully I complied. Little did I know that this short disruption would be a catalyst for profound growth, as if I had to fall apart, break open, and then come back together stronger. It turned out that I didn’t miss my routines, because there were meditations and times of complete silence built into the week, as well as cathartic physical activity; but it was carefully choreographed to create specific outcomes. It was a process akin to the Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, highlighting its imperfections as part of its beauty. I was finally able to tap into and release emotions that I had long buried. It was a holistic week that encompassed mind, body, emotions and spirit, more deeply than I’d ever encountered.
In contrast to the Essentials, I was in a fully immersive experience alongside 23 other participants. This made a huge difference. All my senses were fully involved, and with the energy of the others in the group, I was able to go deeper and break through some of the stuck places I’d previously encountered within myself. One of the most transformative aspects was being safely witnessed and accepted by the group even in my raw emotional state. We were in it together and we all wanted the same thing – to find and be accepted as our authentic selves. I shifted from raw to glowing in a way I had only experienced before when giving birth. You could say that during the week I was rebirthing me! I’d already done some spiritual exploration before going on the course. I followed Buddhist teachers Pema Chodron and Thich Nhat Hanh and tried to practise their teachings. It was an unexpected gift that I left the week with a much stronger sense of my spirit as part of me. It’s as if previously I hadn’t felt entitled to ‘Spiritual Laura’. I had kept her at a distance, but now felt the benefits of fully embracing her and allowing her to guide me.
One of the most profound realisations of that week came through a simple transference exercise – a lightbulb moment where I saw how I’d kept myself small out of fear of being ‘too much’. I realised that this wasn’t necessarily about me, but what I triggered in others. I left the Process vowing to take up my space in the world. Through forgiveness, I found peace with my adoptive mother’s memory and began to embrace all parts of myself, even the ones I’d once deemed unworthy
I saw and released my vindictive feelings from childhood. I realised that I’d built a protective wall that nobody could break through. After doing the Process, I felt able to put the order of service from my adoptive mum’s funeral – a funeral to which I was not invited – in full view on a shelf. Despite our estrangement, I can now look at her photo and finally admit, despite all that went on, ‘I love you’ – and mean it.
My journey with Hoffman continues to this day, as I stay connected with my Process group, celebrating victories and supporting each other through challenges. While there are still tough days and moments of doubt, I’m more accepting of my imperfections and kinder to myself and others.
Looking back, I wish I had discovered Hoffman sooner. It might have spared me from many heartaches and added depth to my work as a therapist. I can now see how patterns have played out in my life. My adoptive mum was herself adopted and had a very difficult relationship with her own adoptive mother. Hoffman helped me embrace my family story with kindness and understanding, and to find healing and hope that will ripple on through generations, with my children and grandchildren.
I’d love for my family to all to have the wisdom and courage Hoffman has given me before they get to 60. But strangely, although I regret not sorting myself out sooner, I’m also able to look back with more compassion, understanding and forgiveness for my younger self. I now know she did the very best she could, with what she knew and had experienced. And it feels so good when I’m kinder to myself. Everybody deserves the chance to feel this way.
Would I recommend the Hoffman Process? Absolutely. It’s been pivotal in my journey, helping me feel less stuck both in life and in my writing. Through forgiveness and more acceptance of self, others and accepting how chaotic, yet how beautiful this world is, I have many more moments where I feel calm and at peace, and yet at the same time empowered. And another unexpected Hoffman gift. I was able to finally finish my memoir Made in Hong Kong. My story told of loss and abandonment, but now I’ve completed it in a way that also reflects my newfound sense of balance and hope.
Laura will publish Made in Hong Kong later this year. You can email her here for more information, or to order your advance copy.
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