As I tell the truth

As I tell my truth, as I tell about my life experiences, I call adoption out. I call adoption out from the darkness and ignorance of the past. As I call adoption out and drag Adoption onto the carpet, I begin editing to hear, a battle cry long silenced by Adoption secrecy policies.

I begin to hear my brothers and sisters cry out as I write my words of woe and pain. It’s like a big pimple on the face of society is being pricked each time we speak, and I can smell the stench from a wound that’s been left to long unattended too.

As we the adoptees express our repressed feelings, and get it off our worn out chests a new day is dawning. A day of illumination is upon us. Our research hits the air in written, verbal, visual form and pierces the veil of ignorance forever.

Our stories when told with courage change the script. Our information changes the narrative. Change is upon the planet as we all give the feedback this world needs to do better by us by doing better for the children to come.

We the adoptees have lived the lives society and our family’s, mothers, grandmothers have chosen for us. Why would society damn some children in this manor and not others? Why must we be raised by other people? Why do some Mothers fear raising their own children?

Why do Mothers have to prove they are good enough to raise us? Who is their judge? You? Me? Or God?

Adoption plays Gods game, by rearranging children at the whims of a society that is mad and can not even see the affects that adoption has on the the generations to come; like a ripple affect through time of pain and separation that reverberates and affects us all. We grow into adults. Our lives are torn apart. Our minds have been ravaged by a savage idea that simply is ludicrous and profane.

If we are our brother and sisters keeper? Have we, meaning society done right by the woman who have had to, or were forced to, and did relinquish their children for some reason or another. Death should be the only excuse for a Mother to not show up. Society should support every Mother who conceives with education, good and supplies until she’s fully afloat and can sustain herself and her child. Societies norms need to change.

And please stop referencing myself and my fellow adoptees with any reference to abortion. Please refrain from such ignorant comments such as “be grateful, you could have been an abortion”, as if adoption is some kind of Purple Heart metal that saved me from a very early grave!

I do thank God my Mama did not abort me. I am also glad that option was not a successful seed that grew!! I am here. And this is the life I’ve lived. This was the option my Mama picked. You’re damn right I am gonna make you all look at this! I would not wish this on the Mother who gave me away! Ok!

Many want me to hate her, including her. And I am extremely sick of such nonsense being said to me. I am loyal to the flesh I am in and so I am most loyal to the one I was made from. It is a bond of flesh and spirit and soul. And it is not something anyone can give away to another. The child may go. But you go with them, and it’s quite painful being spectators at such a young age.

It messes with your head. And all these new ideas come slamming into you just formed brain that’s memorized another. Now conflicting information is being jammed down your throats and you don’t and can’t swallow it. You are barfing it up but no one can see why? Why are you so ill? What could it be?

This is what we need to look at. I am making this visible for looking at. If you leave feeling a bit twisted and turned around after reading my posts, well I’ve done my job. Now you know how I felt at two days old.

Thanks for diving deep.

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