Being vulnerable is work. It is hard. We are naturally all protective of our inner world, and to expose it is so very scary. But this last year, I have expose the inner world of an adoptee. I exposed my wounds, my psychosis, my life as I grew up was rough to figure out with so many questions left unanswered for years. I could take it no more. My body wrenched from he pain that I held in for so long. I had reached capacity.. My subconscious packed with all kinds of shit I wondered and felt as a child. My body demanded a purge, it demanded that I fess up to the truth I held within for safety. Mine. Rejections makes you do strange things, and being raised as a private adoption meant that no one talked about it, least of all me. I was sure not going to go there growing up, I did not want to press my luck. My own Mama did not want me, I did not know why? But I did not want my new Mama to feel for one minute like I did, deep down.
And my body showed I was not doing well, it was very sick as a child. I spent many a day in Doctor Schapp’s office, while he tried to figure out what was going on with this little girl. Ear infections, bronchitis, rashes from what he did not know, but said he wanted to write a book about it. I had every childhood disease, and some I like so much, I did them again and again. Like the three day measles, I had them 7 times, yes, ridiculous, but my Mama Jean assures me that is correct. But I do feel grief can cause many illnesses, when a child is turned around like me. I had a very violent reaction to adoption, one that would color my world grey, and numb me for years. My head would be reeling for years, toiling, trying to figure it out. I become an observer of others lives, the ones that keep their kids. I watch everything, trying to learn how to be a good daughter to Mama Jean, and eventually Mama Linda, my biological Mom. They both are my inspirations.
Yes, Mama Linda is an inspiration to me, of course she is. People are just shocked that I write that or say that? They are puzzled by it, I should not care for her at all many think? Well, I tried that not caring stuff, and what I learned is this. You can’t do that, the body simply won’t let you and when you keep trying to do that it kind of breaks down. To try not to care about the woman who God made you from is like stupid, ignorant talk and just dumb. It shows me that many people have no idea wha it is really like to be what we call adopted. I am an orphan, yep, abandoned by the woman who I came from. straight up. Once you let that seep in, then we can go further.
Many people assume because I was so young, I had no idea that I was from another woman, but I KNOW, I was not from day one. From the day I was born and never smelled my Mother again, from he day I went home with another woman who did not act like her at all. I knew the difference and that I lost someone very special to me. For children do not judge there Mothers when born, they love them, they are where they come from. We learn to judge. And there is so much judgement I have had to listen to and refute. Yes, I had to stand up for my Mothers, both. People say many things around an orphan, that they do not to others. They seem to feel entitled to do so, like they need to correct the little girl who’s Mommy does not want her or some such nonsense. Let me correct you now.
Growing up in the 60’s was like growing in the dark. So much free love and no support for the products of that love. I have listened to preachers preach about sex and drugs and yet they are no better. Addictions are only a name. And many are addicted to the way they think, like a meth head is to his fix. And folks just think they know how I felt or needed to feel. Like hello? My life, my body, my experiences and my script. Don’t judge me for the life I lived, making it up as I went, without my bio Mom to guide me? I just had to wing it, and how it felt was like shit. It tore my heart out. I just didn’t care. Why? I tried to care, but when you do good, folks get jealous, and I did not want folks to feel less than because I was a success. So I hid. I hid my feelings of grief and pain and all of it concerning her.
But there come a time when God calls you higher and the weight of it does not let you rise. So you must lay it down. And it meant so much. You loved her with your heart alone, inside. And that is an energy, grief is an energy. It is a hole, you felt when she went, that no one else can fill. I built a beautiful room for Mama Jean, she has her own place with in me. But I have an empty room with no Mama in it. Only her memories to keep me company and she lives, so you can see that I want her to come to tea and we can talk, and share, maybe even cry together for the loss we both suffered.
But healing is messy you see. For God calls us back, to look again at it. And if we hold onto old thoughts and do not speak them out loud, they are like a vibrational holding pattern that keeps us where we do not want to be. So I spoke it, all that crap I held, and it did not make sense to anyone but me. When pain and grief and whatever we hold in comes back up, its not organized, ok? It just comes up like barf. I call it emotional flu, it just comes up and has to be let out. That seems to be the hardest things for us to do these days, most people want to make sense, and to be respected and to keep it together. But falling apart means we get to rebuild it. WE get to choose again. And now we know better, so we can do better, right?
I can do better, for sure. For now I know, that how I felt and feel is important, if only just to me. I have come into my own, and stand before you as I am. A wounded person as we all are. And my wound was from this crazy world and what they say Adoption is, and from what I loss, and from a love so deep, that it calls me back to her, with Mama Jean in my hand too. Two woman raised me, one made me, the other trained me. That is a miracle. And they should meet. For they are best friends, who raises another child, and is not a friend? The world judges, I do not, I only tell how I felt. It was hard for me. So hard to figure out. What is wrong with me? That my own Mommy did not want me? What did I do? Was I bad? Am I wrong? Am I messed uP? Its a mental tailspin I want to stop. No child should have to wonder such things. Adoptions cuts children off from their cheerleaders, and we need to be connected. I don’t know if my Mothers had been friends, maybe I would not have felt so. But we must begin to try to do better. My story can help you see, what was inside of me, could be inside of your child. So, ask the hard questions, let your children express themselves. For God sake, it is their Mother. Help them to love their Mama’s like my Mama Jean did me. Somehow she got through. Her love, has helped me love my Mama Linda, I may not like it, but I do love her.
Thank you for diving deep with me.
Happy New Year 2017, make it a year of truth, so you can be set free…….
I wish for us all to be seen as the gifts we all are from God to this world.