I'm Arabhi Panchacharam, Founder and Principal Consultant of Little Blue Nook.

I was born in India and adopted as an infant by parents who had immigrated from Sri Lanka and were building their lives in New York. My older brother, also adopted, had joined our family as an infant, before my arrival. Although we were only 16 months apart in age and grew up in the same household, our adoption stories and the circumstances surrounding our early lives were vastly different.

Growing up, my brother and I struggled with things we didn't always have the words, understanding, or tools to express. We faced challenges in school, friendships, family relationships, and sometimes with one another. Beneath what others may have seen as difficult behavior were complicated emotions, unanswered questions, and experiences we were still trying to make sense of ourselves.

Our parents loved us and wanted the best for us. But like so many families of that generation, they hadn't been given the education, resources, or guidance to fully understand the emotional complexities of adoption or how those experiences might shape our relationships, identities, and sense of belonging.

In many ways, we were all learning as we went.

As children, young adults, and even well into adulthood, my brother and I often needed someone to help us make sense of feelings and experiences we couldn't always put into words. Someone who could listen, reflect those feelings back to us, offer perspective, and help us navigate relationships, expectations, and the complexities of being adopted.

We often felt as though we were winging it through life. We didn't always understand our feelings, much less know how to communicate them or navigate them together.

Sometimes, we didn't need someone to fix everything. We needed someone to listen, to reflect our big feelings back to us, and to help us understand what we couldn't yet articulate.

Looking back, I believe our parents could have benefited just as much from having someone to turn to. Someone they could ask questions of, share concerns with, and receive thoughtful, practical guidance from as they navigated the challenges of raising two adopted children with vastly different beginnings, personalities, and emotional needs.

They loved us deeply, but they weren't always equipped with the knowledge or resources to understand what we were experiencing or how best to respond.

Perhaps having that additional perspective could have helped all four of us better understand one another, communicate more openly, and navigate some of life's challenges with greater compassion and confidence.

Over the years, my brother and I worked with several mental health professionals. Although professional support was important, we often struggled to establish the connection and understanding we needed. The complexities of our adoption experiences, cultural backgrounds, family traditions, and expectations were not always recognized or explored in ways that resonated with us.

Our struggles were not simply behavioral. There were emotional experiences beneath the surface that deserved curiosity, compassion, and a deeper understanding of how adoption had shaped our lives.

Looking back, I don't believe we necessarily needed another formal appointment or another professional title in our lives. What we longed for was something less formal and more approachable.

Someone who felt a little like an older brother or sister. Someone who had been there, understood some of the complexities, and was willing to lend an ear without judgment.

Someone who could listen when we were overwhelmed, help us put words to our feelings, offer a different perspective, or simply remind us that we weren't alone in what we were experiencing.

Someone who could check in with us, even briefly, before the little things became bigger things.

That kind of connection could have meant so much to all four of us.

I want to be clear that this belief does not diminish the essential work of menta