No I’m not….

Not making a name for myself. There are many names written down for me. I was first and still Stephanie Anne Brumley, then I was And still am Belinda Jean Fowler, Ramey, Gayheart, Arnold. So like I’ve got names for me down.

Blogging does not give me a name, it makes my name seen. Blogging makes on content to the names that are connected to me. I am only introducing you to my names and why they matter. Here you find the content to the story of those names and why they where given to me. So many names.

I am also Blanda, blender, T.J, Bee, Buford, the list goes on. Mama, Mom, Wife, daughter of two, one absent.

And what am I to my own Mama. Hmmm? Does not look like it’s good? I’ve felt so much love my whole life? Why do I also see anger in my Mamas eyes when she looks at me? I did what she wanted? And I came back to show her? I’ve blogged our conversations to show it to you? Maybe you can tell me what you see and I can show Mama? Maybe that will help?

I feel she lacks content. She has not read Primal Wound yet? How can she understand anything I’ve said? Maybe she fears she will cry and seem weak? Hell no. You will cry. Yes. But you will feel strong and free. Facing what is is intelligent. Denying it is ignorance and we stay ignorant. What is before you Mama?

What’s on your table of life crying like a bitch to be picked up? How long do you let your babies cry after God brings them back Mama? Should the sheriff call and tell you it’s ok to pick me up and love me? Should the preacher come tell you? Should Chelsie tell you? Should everyone tell you it’s ok? Or will I do? Will I be enough to be able to show you the key was always there and that you just got to claim it.

My name is God, within a child I made from you. And your child has cleared her shit out so I could speak to you through her. Listen to me. I would never send a gift to hurt you. She is my gift to you. I your Lord tell you to pick her up and love her and be filled with my love as you do. Because while she was gone living the life you chose her to, I filled her with my love to bring it back to you. I am your sovereign. I know what my child needs most. Trust and believe. And see my glory. Claim what I Your God have brought back to you. Trust and believe and claim it. Faith child is an action word. Fears be gone in the name of my son. I send my love to you a fresh. Receive giver of mine. A blessing you did not see my working with that was for you my daughter of Margaret and Granddaughter if Mary. I love you.

Jump child. I am the net and always have you in my hand. Always. No fright can harm you. Every missed step is accounted for and this child has paid the price for this missed steps and over fame them. Trust. Receive.

Wow. I love when God does that through me.

Thanks for diving deep

God bless.

Yes. I said fuck Mama

Yes, I said fuck Mama. And words are vibrations for feelings and emotions. God helps us make the words ya to describe it. So God made up fuck. So, there are sometimes when fuck is what comes out. I used to not say curse words. I followed what they said at the church.

Then I let myself go. I wanted to know if God would and could love me anyway, if I said fuck. And saying that word felt good. It’s felt free. And it wasn’t about god hating me at all. But it was how uncomfortable the word makes people feel because of what folks think about the words fuck. I ran up against others feelings or complications about the words fuck. They cringe as if God will reach down and smite them for saying such a thing. That really doesn’t sound like god at all, it sounds like humans. We punish ourselves by holding thugs in and allowing guilty to take over.

Grace covers it all. And no one needs to be telling me what to say, but should ask why I said it. Why have I chosen to say fuck? Out loud? Because that’s how I feel. Fucked. Without my Mama. No way home is how I have felt. No one to help me. No end in site to what’s between us that can’t be seen and that Mama deflects so it will stay hidden.

So what I am angry. Do not babies cry angrily when hungry? Hangry is what they call it. My Chelsie Lynn is very hangry when hungry. I watched her one day stabbing at her alas like an animal she was so hungry. Kind of cute she is. Xo. Don’t get in the way of that hits food when she hungry or she will shank you. Ok? Js.

I raised my kids to think fuck was bad because I was raised that way. And I need to turn that around as I had learned something new about it. Fuck is a word. I know a lady who’s name is fuckalina. Ok. Seriously. That’s her name. Are we all disgusted by that? Or can we get a grip and let go of all this foul language patrolling.

Chelsie Lynn lead someone to Christ. And ran in to tell my Mama about it and was dripping f bombs about it. So Mama shit her down about he languished and never did hear the story and rained on Chelsie salvation parade. Not nice Mama. She a fledgling. And need grace. But your hard on yourself too are t you Mama? You tow the line. And there is no line. God loves you just the same. Correction is love. Proverb 3

So fuck that shit. Let that f bomb fly when you need too. If you hold it in? It will fester and come out I. Other ways. Just say it and cover it with grace. No harm no foul. I know you e got some fuck you’d in there. I can feel um. And some god damn it. Maybe god is damn it? Ever think about that? Just damn it. Then cover it with grace. Grace is to show us all is covered. Remember all fall short of the glory. Our body’s area made of dirt. We are dirty. God is the light within. We must use the tool of grace.

Or Christ was in vein. Grace is a gift like me. Open it. Use it. Or what’s the use? You might as well start killing lambs to atone. Backwards. Grace is way better. Sometimes we just need to let that cuss word out. It’s like a demon. Set that shit free or you’ll get infected. It’s freedoms of speech. God knows how we feel why hide? God made us all and sees all. Even what we don’t speak.

So get over it. Fuck that shit. And cover it with grace.

Thanks for diving deep with me today.

God bless.

What the fuck do you thinks going on?

Yes. I said fuck. Because without Mama I feel fucked, lopsided, incomplete. And I am coming home. I am sending the trumpets and elephants ahead to clear the way. I proclaim my truth to shut folks up about it. Mama and I may have shit together, but that between us. And we can handle our shit ok? No need for the cavalry of family sticking their noses and words into our witches brew. Go make your own stew with your own child. Get out of our kitchen.

Me and Mama are cooking. And I am teaching her a new recipe. So but out. Stay out or you keep spoiling the recipe. Leave Mama alone. What the hell do you even know about me and Mama? Nothing. I am her secret. Ok. But out. Let Mama unravel. Let her be. Love her. Accept her. Accept me and you accept her. Damn folks are dumb. Lord I apologize. Damn people just don’t get it. I know my Mama and what she needs. You all just know the lies. I know her truth. Fuck off.

And take you pity party somewhere else. Stop worrying about your damn places. And give me mine back thank you! Yeah. You have all been using my place and need to let go. Ok? Yeah. That’s it, just pry your hands off my place and give it back to me. Thanks for keeping it warm. This girl is not taking any shit. No more.

I need to see my Mama. Butt out already. I am so sick of it. I am sick of watching you all parade around as if I am dead. How do you think you all look to our Mama? How? Are you truly helping? Hell know. I am amazed that my college graduate sisters are the ones that just walk away.

Oh thanks for the scriptures. I’ll post a pick of the letter I got the other day. No return address. Post marked Portland. Typed out and folded. It’s so cryptic.

I WONDER WHO SENT IT? The plot thickens?

Guess I will have to do a study on here about it. Evidently I am out of line with scripture and need a typed study from an unknown person In Portland Oregon to purge my sins away. Ok. I’m game. Let’s play the scripture game. I love it.

I’ll post it later. I need to pray and read.

God bless you all.

My Mama says I crossed the line..

My Mama says I crossed a line. Like what line? Oh, you mean the line of communication? That it stopped letting you block me? And just went public about your behavior? Oh. Is that a line? I don’t live like that. My life was very public and everyone knows I am adopted. So blogging this is just the next step.

Evidently Mama thought sh drew some line in her sand and that I just don’t respect it? Hmmm? Such a strange way to think for a Mother? She gives birth and then sends me off and ties me to some new family tree and thinks I won’t chew the chain?, and get free? What a silly woman she is. She hates that I tell it like it is. To bad. Did you think I would just stay chained to a new tree forever dear woman?

People tell themselves some stories. Including myself. But mine is way better than hers. Fo sho!! (That means, For sure, for those who don’t get what that means)

The question is:

Where is the line between Mother and child? We come from Mother. Where is she not within us? How does one simply get rid of one or the other without some kind of disruption? There is no way to do that. We are forever linked in time and space. My Mamas link is kind of crappy. And I know. She doesn’t not like to be criticized. Neither do I! But it is what it is.

Not for lack of work on my side of her line in her head. She thinks I don’t get her. Oh I get ya girl! And for your information it’s your ego that I’ve come for Mama. Yep. Hand it Over.

I’ve got nothing but time and fingers to type with and a mind like a steel trap. Where it’s all stored. The time is now for us to build. Stop being stubborn. I am extending my scepter to yours. Realm to realm. Queen to Queen.

You hav lived without me. Yipee! Good for you! Way to go!

But can you live with me? What are you so scared of now? All our shots out and now we can just move on. I am being very firm in this. No stubborn. I’m scared too. But brace enough to dare. That is a Queen.

Do you want me to be a beggar? Do you want me to just stay like a dog tied to another family tree? Seriously. Get a grip.

I work to forge a new way for us. And yet you drag your heels in the sand again and again. Sand is rock. Yes. But it’s prices of rock. We need to be on a firmer foundation than sand. And you know that. And you are my first leader and look at us! Look! You are not done Mama, with being my Mama. Is this how you really want it!?

There is still plenty of time to build something new. A better legacy than this is on the horizon. But it’s ahead and not behind. Let us pay our respects to all we have been through and yet apart. Let us come together and commune at Christ’s table of grace and confess our sins to the other as God admonishes is to do.

Let us practice what we preach. You and I both know this is the way. Show the girls. They will follow you. And all will be well if we faint not in our well doing. The only line needed is a party line, so all can be involved in your baby coming home. And everyone in our families should be happy and supportive for that bold move that I am proposing.

It’s our time. Everyone’s else has had us, but we have not had each other. Fear has no place here with us now. Read my words and listen to your heart, the part of you that is still connected to me. It’s that still small voice that overtakes the fear. Listen to that voice.

Have faith that this is the way and see what do you have to loose? I’ll tell you what you have to loose.

  • Sleepless nights
  • Worrying about what people think
  • A past we have put grown
  • Pain from the loss we both experienced
  • Fear
  • Doubt
  • Guilt
  • Anger
  • Suffering from the above mentioned
  • Emotions that are tied to being separated.
  • Feeling unsafe.
  • Depression

What will we gain?

  • Peace
  • Closure
  • Family
  • Joy
  • Compassion for each other
  • A deeper Faith for doing what’s right and believing God is all. Faith demands actions
  • Forgiveness of self and others
  • Humility
  • Groundedness

Weeping may endure for the night. But joy comes in the morning. I feel this is our morning after the storm that was needed to blow all this away. Devastation has ravaged us. Chaos has stuck. And new grow is on its way. A place has been cleared for the new. But we can not linger over what once was and I need you to help me finish this. Our old boat is sinking and we need to disembark to a new ship that’s now docked for us and ready to sail.

Will you send me away again? Are you unable to see yourself in me? Is the part of you so ugly that is within me? What is this madness? I am your flesh. Gods blessings are available. But we must believe and look for them.

Stop feeling sorry for me. I don’t need pity for god sake. I just need love and acceptance. And you do to. You just don’t see all this mess was in the way and that I even knew it was there. And I am a clean as you go girl. And this has been a mess.

My sisters are so tied to you, they are holding you back from me out of fear. Calm their fears. I have only come home for what is mine. I am not here to take, except the old and throw it in the trash? And I came to give.

Let me. How do you really know?

You said that you all accepted me into the family and that there was love until, we know what that means. Conditional love. If you accepted me them you accepted me. No take backs Linda Marie. If I was in? I am still in and you need to check yourself and what you are reading in that bible.

Not one of you has come to my aid. What if I really had something wrong going on? You did nothing? Not a thing except throw shit at me and get angry. You all left me outside after I knocked. I came three times this year and knocked on the door of your hearts. Three. Like father son and holy ghost three? Did you let me in? Except to abuse me? Did you listen to my heart and words, or deflect them?

My sister said I was unwelcome? No hug. No love. Mama made me coffee and watched as her hired henchman Victoria tore into me. I guess she can’t do shit with her Kids either. We share that one Mama.

I am showing you all sides of me. My brain is complex and Adoption did that to me. I know what’s up with me. I’ve been trying to explain. And I had no words for these feelings and emotions linked to our separation. All you guys do is get upset and sulk. I am used to being spoken to like an adult. I am reasoning with you. Yes. It’s harsh. How do you think I felt after you left without a trace? Harsh.

Excuse me for not softening it up for you. But you did not soften it for me. I wish to soften this harshness. But I need you. Yep. If you want to soften then you need me. And folks need to let us do what we have to do and get out of the way. Like two many chefs. It’s me and you. They can figure it out. I’ve got you. I have not come to let you fall, but to take your hand and help you back up. You fell long ago. I came back to help you up and teach you what I learned while I was away.

I am helping you get over it by shocking it out of you. My words of truth hit all that is not our total truth. It’s like prayers. Or arrows. They seek the lie and hit it. I guess it’s like a mind game I learned to help get to know those around me. When the truth is spoken it eases the tensions. It’s like a breeze that blows it all way if we don’t hold onto it. Like,” they tell me you say horrible things about me on your blog” First if all, who are they? And why are they reading my blog and interpreting it for you?

I would call that hearsay and gossip. You know better Mama. Read my blog. The truth will set you free. Cry about it. Use it to scrub the old away. Have a yell. Smash something. Get it out. Because I feel with within you. I’ve called it all by name and you have reacted which tells me I hit the mark. Look at the marks I’ve hit. How did I know that?

Because I am your baby girl woman. I get you more than you know. Ugh. I better end this. It takes so much love to write all this. Listen. I make mistakes too. Look at Chelsie. But I don’t give up. People that don’t want to change just block is how I see it. Is that really you Mama?

Chelsie’s there to show you a side of me you can’t see in me, but can in her. She’s a beacon of light from me back to you. And Angela helped her get up there. Look at the love. Why in the hell would I let my daughter help my other daughter come live up there with you if I hated you? Seriously.

We are world Bridgers. Let the bridge be build woman. For the highest good of us all and stop the na sayers. Stop the family from saying anything else that impedes this process that is natural and by Gods design. Ours has just taken Awhile. Children come home. Always. 54 years old. I’m still your girl. Your still my Mama. Own it.

Thanks for diving deeper and deeper with me. God bless.

Hey Oprah.


My name is Stephanie Anne Brunely, Belinda Jean Arnold, and I am adopted. I am an adoptee who’s trying to bridge a gap with my Mama. And I was wondering if you could help me? You are extremely visible. And I feel that maybe an Interview with me and Mama might be a good thing.

I am already blogging this mess here. And I am showing folks what I feel and thought growing up. And it’s coming out jumbled and messy. You asked such good questions. And maybe iylana would be interested in helping us heal? I would be willing to be a part of something like that. Would you be willing to do the same?

I know. You get lots of requests like this. And who am I? Just an adoptee who wants her Mama back. Everyone wants something. But, you must ask for what you want. And so I am asking you this here. I don’t know if this will even reach you. But it’s out there. A prayer. A request. Am intention.

Mama may agree. I pray she does. So we can get this all behind us and move on into a better relationship than how we started in our beginning. I love her and do want the best for us both. People tell me to forget her. They say she’s no good. And I just can’t believe that. Can you help me turn this around? Or try?

Even if Mama doesn’t want to do it. I do. I want to tell my story so maybe others can learn fromMy trial and errors. Adoptees need closure and integration. I feel much like a black slave and yet I am white. I feel segregated from my own Mama and a slave to a way. I don’t feel it is the ultimate way. And I wish to be set free from the bondage of paper and to be who I fully am. Which is the child of two woman.

Mama Jean is my adopted Mama. And it’s not been easy for any of us. But there is love amongst this mess. Love drenched in hate. Passion. Emotions. Feelings from days gone by. And it’s time for it to go. My Mamas need closure to this old way as well. And I believe for many others if they can see it happen. They can do it for themselves. If Adoptees see me do this, hope is theirs. And we need hope that our lives were not lived in vanity. That our Mamas are proud of us for being so strong. That my Mama will see her biggest fan.

What is wrong with trying to show someone a new way? Why do people tell me I am obsessed with my own Mama? Why is it different for me than those who’s Mama keep them? I want people to understand us, and our adopted ways. And if people want to feel sorry for us and say it’s bad then why don’t they do something? Pity never changed a thing and kept it the same. I don’t need pity. I’ve had enough of that. I want action towards this end. Unity of both families.

I want Mothers United. I want healing. I want restoration. I want family values to shine. And for God to be praised for it. I want a surge of family love and care to flow through us and help us unit as humans and to lay down our old stories and lay this to rest instead of throw it and me too out with the bath water. My life matters. And it should matter to my own Mama no matter how long or how much water has past under the bridge of our lives.

What the hell is so wrong with a child that refuses to give up? What is so wrong with a daughter who was left and chose to not just accept what her Mama handed her and prayed for Gods blessing to go home and make it right between us. If this is not the way there is no way. What are we if we can not even speak about it and share what our lives have been like without each other.

I refuse to believe that my Mama just moved on and that is was easy. I refuse to stand by while my sisters do nothing for us and leave my Mama this way. Stuck in the past and unable to move forward. These things I have spoken have cut her to the quick. And people? I only spoke from within. I have only shared my feelings and emotions. How could such words penetrate her and disrupt her so much she would block me? Unless my truth is hers?

And if so. Then she needs tending and care. She should be allowed to grieve her losses as well. That’s why I speak. So my words can give her strength to speak her unspoken. If I can speak of this, so can she. And that’s a good thing. I know it hurt like hell. And she felt the pain so long it’s like an open app that keeps running. Her pain numbed by words and ideas and yet still felt by a woman that I was made from.

Her pain matters to me. Her healing matters to me. When she realizes that I am within her walls that she placed around her for protection she will come to me.

I am her angel. I am her child come home to love her.

And Oprah, that’s a story with telling and sharing. It’s a story of hope. I came home anyway.

Thanks for diving deep with me

And god bless.

I really don’t understand why people get upset because I talk about my Mom a lot.

I really don’t get it. Why is it so strange for a woman to talk about her Moms? When it’s done Honestly, and candidly. I admit, I push the envelope a bit. And I admit I have a flare for expressing myself. And I am unable to apologize for that. It’s part of me.

Talking about my Mama openly is like a breath of fresh air. And its like taking the old rug out to beat the dust out and let the sun and breeze blow new life into it. Ive waited so long to speak. I waited for permission, and no one wanted me to speak about it. And as much as I wanted to keep the status quo, I didn’t. It was like a tug of war, stay the same? or change? And change won. Except that some of my family think its stay the same. And they are partly right. I am not gonna stop talking about Mama. I mean if she doesn’t want to work this out? Then I will work it out here. I guess folks can learn my process.

Why is it so strange I talk over and over about my Mama? I am a blessed girl to have her ear. I am sure she has wondered many things, and if not, she should have. I certainly hope she thought of me more than on holidays? but if that is the case? I guess I’ll have to accept that place in her life. Small. And as much as I would like to stay small and obedient or whatever her deal is, I am more. And Mama Jean has a lot to do with that more. She poured her broken heart into to me. I knew she lost two children before me. And I know how much it hurt me loosing Mama, that I got where she was. And I brought the salve and the wine, to mend her broken heart. She wasn’t open about her grief, and yet I could feel it every now and again, when she would look at me a certain way. I knew she was thinking about them. Hoping maybe that they were ok, and that they liked me. Maybe that was me thinking that. And maybe she was just thinking about bills and my Dad wanting another car.

Being adopted has made me fascinated with mothers. Each Mother is different. And many are called mean, or course, sluts, bitches, broads, and the list goes on. But each has a job to do, and from what they were taught they draw from. And if they are strong, they keep learning and growing. I push the envelope to grow. I tap, and tap, until I get an answer. I seek answers about the woman I call Mom. And they fascinate me, anger me, love me, each in their own way. And its complicated, true. But that is all I know. Two Moms, that is like to wives. Both yelling at you about some such thing, this way they yell! that way they wave their hands! What is a girl to do with two woman? Talk.

I am not ashamed of talking about my Mama. And am blessed to have known her at all.  And I am blessed to have been lead back to her door, or ex-husband. I am blessed to have my mirror to look into, and ground my body in this life. Looking at her helps me see traits in myself that I may not be aware of, she mirrors to me myself. We share many mannerism. And I love it. I love lookin into a mirror that may not see my like I truly am and I like watching as they wake up to it. I love to watch people wake up to who I am to them. And my story is just getting started.

So what I like to talk about my Mama. All she has been showing me is her back side l lately? What else do you want me to talk about? The garden maybe? or maybe cooking? Like my Mama blocks me? In what world is that normal? In what world is it ok that a Mama keeps doing me the same way? I mean what I have been saying must be true. Or why would Mama be so upset? And I say, so what if tis true? Own that shit. I do.

I mean girls look to their mama’s for everything, and mine was gone. And Mama Jean did her best, but, it was not the same. And I struggled to get her way. And so I just was a tom boy, at least then I did not have to deal with failing all the time, even thought Mama Jean was kind. I hate sucking. And I was not like her, she is so elegant, and poised.

I would love for Mama to tell me some other things about her. I would love for her to show me something new as well. I would love to see some love come my way, instead of all her hate and anger. And her pity and patronizing. And her neglectfulness. now thAT I am back, what is she doing? Busy, she’s busy doing what? Like a daughter is a Mothes first charge and yet she’s not here? How would you feel if your own Mother was a no show? Not a good things, Angela, my daughter knows how that feels. Now she knows how I felt my whole life. Just wishing my mama would show up and come get me, and how embarrassed I was for us growing up. I had to listen to it all. You know, what folks say?

And yet, I never gave up on us; which includes Me, Mama Jean, Mama, my children, and the rest of the family. I just have a dream. Like, and its a huge undertaking for a woman to take on. Its like a millions pieces of fabric that you have to sew together, so the world can see the beauty from the joined fragments. Except it mental, and emotional quilting. I snip at Mama’s loose ends, and stitch Mama Jean into a square with Mama. I tie a bow and smile. I snip at my Big sister, nope, sister, not like that. We have gotten rusty. Its ok. Dont give up, look at me, I’ve been working at this for years. Prayers are great tools for spiritual stitching. I am glad Gran Gran was a sewer. That ability has helped me so much, thank you Gran Gran for giving your gift of creating with fabric, and helping me to use it to stitch this family back together. You are MY ANGEL. I love you.

I love typing about my Mama’s. And I know that many portions are emotional charged, which shows intense emotions, that for lack of a narrative got trapped in me. I apologize for the intense expulsion. It was not my wish to project, but to expel. I held it in so long, that I am rusty at speaking. I had not processed my feelings, and got stuck in stuff mode, I guess? I also guess that now was the time for me to let it all out, just like it went in, which was very intensely, and extreme. It defiantly left a mark. That is what I am saying. Adoption left its mark on me, and I work each day to overcome all that I have spoken and shown you here. I have stood in front of the world naked, vulnerable, and exposed, and I am still alive. And that shows that I have endured, because I am just now crying uncle under the weight of it all, and showing you the wound, so love can heal it.

And when you don’t feel good, you want you Mama. I am blessed to know where she is now. For years I could not reach her, and so I work to transform our relationship into what God always intends for Mother And Daughters, friendship. My questions is this:

What better friend is there than a person that could withstand a blow, and yet still comes back to take the damn bat away from you, and to hold you as you crumble into my arms. Now, that is what this is about. And I don’t give up on my Mama, to my dying breath! I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS ABOUT HER! SHE IS WHERE I CAME FROM! AND MY LIFE IS PROOF THAT WE MAY COME FROM ONE PLACE, BUT WE DONT NEED TO STAY THERE.  My life is proof that people can change and grow beyond their Mama’s wildest dreams. And as I crack that safe of a heart of hers, I storm the gates with flowers and chocolate, and wine and love beating within my body.

I may get down, yes. But I don’t stay there long. I am showing you how I overcome. I speak the truth I hold, like cards that you lay down, so I can grab another card, or truth. I see what I have been handed and I let go of the cards that no longer serve me. This work I do is hard. Storming the gates of Mama’s heart has proved to be my biggest challenge. She is always in my heart. But I  need to show her what I really see, beyond what others have tried to cram down my throat. She’s all huge up on what folks said, and she thinks that is what I ultimately think of her? Hell No. PFFFF.

How can any daughter hold onto such a thing? And the only one to sort it out with is Mama. And now I stitch it all together to show the beauty,  that is our next chapter. At the end of this year, Mama and I have gone through it. I don’t like this anymore than she, but it needs to get done. I hate loose ends!!! Hate! I like it neat. Oh, Mama’s gonna be so proud when its done. 2018 is the year….. I proclaim it over us all. Unity, forgiveness, tears of healing, hugs, restoration, revelation, revival, love prevails over it all and grace covers each missed mark for us all. Just because I point it out? You think its stuck that way? Pray, forgive, talk, ask, knock, love is a great tool to show people the missed mark and then cover it with grace. That is why we love the Lord so much. God shows us our missed marks, picks us up, and helps us shoot again.

This whole process has been hard on us all. That is why I am speaking up about it. We all must see what we do, and not be like those that crucified Christ. They did not see what they did to him. The killed him instead of changing their ways, they wanted him dead because he spoke the truth many elude themselves in seeing. I see my cards are stacked, and I see why in my story. That is why I am changing the story. That is why I am calling it all out of the darkness, so that the air can vaporize the past energies that haunt us all, especially me, the one its around. But I see the affect it has had on everyone. Mama Jean taught me how to look and watch. And I want everyone to adjust to this and not give up.

I know its hard and our hearts are all upset and our heads don’t like change. We get used to the way it is. But I am a sister, and since 1963, I have been a sister. And my sisters did not get to welcomed me home, and I missed them. I remember hearing them, and I felt empty without them. You can ask my friend Susan, I used to talk about sisters all t he time. No offense brothers! I love my brothers, but my memories were with my Mama, Dad wasn’t around while I grew. And my memories are feelings, and emotions that I now put words to. And I so dreamed of them growing up, and imagined with it might be like. Fighting, and pranks, and talks after dates, and the list goes on. But that they would not want me or understand me? Well, I get it, that is why I am explaining myself.

The way my family has been treating me lately, I feel like some kind of handicapped person. Like I am some kind of freak. Not a nice feeling, and yet I keep going. I pray, and ask God for the words like Moses who’s struggled himself. Same pattern, speech issue, and he’s adopted too. I feel like the Lord is showing me that Adoption affects the left side of the brain that is over language. And many adoptees have fragmented speaking habits. We shoot this way and then that. And I can do that quite well, which makes me very adapt at keeping up with many conversation. It is a good skill to have. It’s like swinging in the trees like vocal monkeys. But coming out with it is hard for everyone.

Why can’t we just accept that I am like this? Why can’t we come together and forgive one another? Why has no one helped me with my baby? Why have you left us like this? Is this what our family is about? Where is christ? Nothing changes is we all don’t change. Fact. Why is everyone dragging around and that is not a question for you to give me excuse after excuse. Actions is what is needed. This is insanity to stay like this.

Everyone want me to leave you alone Mama, is that what you really want? Or would you like to understand your gift? Would you like the family to be more supportive of a change? That includes me and Mama Jean and my kids? This old shits got to go and I am not backing down. I said, I don’t back down, I may back off, but God always give me a fresh burst of energy to continue and fight my own fears of failing us all in this completion. 2018 is our year for family and its time we did some work on the garden of this family and dig up the soil and plants some good seeds of faith.

That is my wish, each year. This year I want to see it, taste it, I want us to all get the hell over it! That tis why I just hit you all with it, fast and hard and over. Like a shot. Bam! My truth is a hard one, and I got it like a shot, so I am just hitting you with it like I got it, not trying to be mean? And if it feels mean? Well, it felt mean to me too, I apologize, there is no way to dress it up, I tried for my whole life. I practiced with people and talking to them about it and you all. Practice, Practice, Practice. Mama left me, I need to explain myself if she was ever gonna change her mind, I needed to change her mind about it!

It just totally amazes me that she is not at my door? I mean a girl that has been obsessed with her, a fan for life, and she treats me like a stalker? And I hardly go to see her because of it. One visit she was freaked out because I was walking around the place and taking in my Mama’s house. She acted creeped out that I looked in her cookbook room. She doesn’t know how many people I tell about my Mama’s cookbook collections. The room needs some love. And I would love to help her with that, but I got to get up to bat first. It has really been interesting, because my adopted family thought I was amazing, we had our struggles, and we overcame despite our differences. And my own family seems to struggle to see the blessing in me? I see many blessing in them, when they get over it, and accept that I am back and start acting accordingly.  But they act like they have an option to tap out? And they do. But I am public, so, they might want to think about that going down in history? What part do you wish to play in the new chapter sisters and Family?

I have been raised by a woman that worshiped me. She has done her best, to be the best Mama she could. I have shared our struggles, but we are not there anymore. I see her worth. And I see Mamas worth. Do you see mine? Why should I have to take this abuse? So  I am giving it back to you. Neglect is abusive. Mama Jean does not neglect me. You all could learn some things from that woman and need to! Get with it! Chelsie Lynn! Call me. I am so done with this shit. I am praying for you, but I can not keep karma from you. Look at what I am doing. Do that. Lets get with it January is coming. You have had time to do what the hell ever you are doing. But you need to come see me, Grama should bring you. Lets heal. And face to face. But to hear you voice would be nice.

This is what you get from making grow up with such a secret that no one wanted to hear. It comes out like this, all jumbled and crazy sounding, because we lack content. If we dot face the bad parts how can we create new parts? Its really not that bad, I lived through it.

Anyway, Thanks for diving deep with me today

God bless


What it feels like to let yourself free to speak freely

When I started this blog it wasn’t about being  great writer or winning accolades. When I decided to write about my experiences being an adoptee, I was scared shitless. What would happen if I told my truth? I kind of knew what would happen, and that it would be difficult to express myself so others understood what I was saying. But I will say that my Mama was my first target of instruction and expression. And thats not a bad thing to tell your Mama your feelings after so many years of bottling them up. I was like a bottle of soda, and God shook me until I blew my top and sprayed all over everyone what was contained within me. It was like throwing up, and trying to get to the bathroom and not making it. I just was not in charge of the expulsion of my grief, God was, and I had to trust the process.

After blogging now for some time about this matter that I have not spoken about like I have here, I feel better. It’s like my truth was poisoning me, because I held it in for fear. And I know what the word of God says about fear. And I had to trust that Gods word would cover what I would say with grace. Because God does not give us the spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. Holding my truth in made me toxic, I was not being truthful if I had to hold my feelings in for fear of offending someone. I was offended when I was adopted, and I told no one and just tried to understand why. But it hurt. I can’t lie about that, not even if my own Mama blocks me. I set myself free.

And now that it is out, I am feeling the positive affects of clearing out the negative in myself. People can say, I should do this and I should do that. But do they know really how and what I should do with what I carried for years? No.  I know what to do. And we all know what to do, we just have to do it. It hurts me today that there are many adoptees that have not let themselves out of the prison Adoption puts us in. I want all adoptees to be supported in their own recovery from a sucker punch no one even sees. A punch that takes our breath away and sows seeds of fear into our little hearts. I want all Adoptees to be free to express themselves, and to find the narrative to help those around the world understand what Adoption means to the child. Our stories are needed for folks to see what is, so we can build what is to come.

I am using my suffering to show people what is under this top coat called adoption. It hurts to go through life and not know your whole story. It hurts not to be able to connect your children with their whole heritage. And every person want to have a family tree, but ours has been graphed to another, yet we are still the same tree as our families. We just act different because of who raised us. My Mama struggles to get me, because she has not factored, nor does she care to factor my upbringing in a strange home into the mix. She sees me as ill, mentally deranged, a mess. And she has not extended her hand of help and compassion towards me, except to block me, again. She never learned from her own lessons, and she is acting the same as she did when she was 25. That is what is sad. She is stuck in the past, and can’t move forward, which has caused me to digress as well.

Our truth has held us in the holding pattern for long enough, and I am done being her mistake. I am done being unwelcome. I am done. My heart still pines for her, but I can’t let my heart keep putting itself in harms way. My Mama runs around with knives in her car. And I don’t need her stabbing me any longer. She wants to be this way? Well, don’t come crying to me later when you finally wake the hell up to what just was on the table of your life Mama dear. You are to good for your own daughter? You are to busy for your own flesh to come hug you? Your too good to look at the affect of your own actions that have had a lasting affect on the child your gave away and her children. Because Adoptions touches them too, and it affects them too. Push me away you silly woman. And push yourself away. I am from you, and you can’t even look into the mirror you broke and then blamed on another. Mama Jean patched me back together. So if you see lines and cracks, you made those when you shattered me.

As I accept that I was shattered at 2 days old, I feel a peace cover me like a warm fuzzy blankey. As I send the messages out into the universe as I blog, I receive peace about it all. So what Mama doesn’t want me, whats new. But she will see my expression. No more will she be able to tell herself stories. I have burned my face into her memories. Those stories are gone, they will not comfort her any longer. She is now, just like me. She has seen the light, and she does not want the light on. Well, ok. You don’t want to talk to me? I’ll talk to myself, like I always have. Intelligent people talk to themselves, it’s a problem solving tool. I am encouraged, after expressing myself, I respect myself more. No longer must I wait for validation from a woman who couldn’t care less. Ive been preparing myself for years to speak my mind to the woman I came from. She only saw a mess, and that made me angry and  God I  imagine, because God makes all children from within their Mama’s womb.

Grace is over it all for me. Mama must confess her own things to receive grace over her. No confession, no Grace. God stands at the door and knocks, in my case,  God made me stand at the door and knock. I don’t know that I do it as well, but I followed God and did what came to  me, I confessed my missed marks, so grace is mine now. And I am grateful God showed me the way. This way is not an easy way, but it is a good way. Getting real is not easy, people have their own ideas of what you should and should not do. Mama’s way is to block. Mine is to confront and expose and forgive and accept. I believe in honesty, and that we can forget hurtful words if we understand the contacts of why. She holds onto the hurtful words, because to let go means she must accept that she does love me and that she is most grieved by the affect her actions had on her child. She can’t do that, her Ego, or flesh appear to be calcified. Like lots wife, she is a pillar of salt and has looked to long into the past. I just dump my past.

I blog to sort it out and glean my lessons from it all. I report my findings and feelings here to show others the affect of speaking the truth. Mama thinks maybe I don’t know what being corrected is like? Ha Ha. Like I gladly take a beating, but I always want to learn why. I gladly take Gods corrections and look for understanding in it all. That is what it means to be a christian to me. WE stumble and do things,  God brings us back around to have another look, we learn lessons and always are given another chance. Mama does not want another chance. Well, alrighty then. Knock yourself out lady! What the hell do I know??? Lordy. WE would not have been good together if this is how you are. Thanks for leaving me. Mama Jean has done some fine work with what God made from you. And she worked like a dog on me. Now that I have had a long look at where I came from? I can see how much she actually did? Wow!

As this year ends, I end a chapter. My chapter of truth. And I have written it here, so others looking for courage and strength to speak truth, can come and drink from my radical, courageous, crazy, wacky, intelligent, genius words. I mean you don’t have to do it like me. I just did it radically to show it can be done. I don’t really think I want to be with Mama anyway. She’s kind of a drag and if you don’t speak a certain way, she blocks you. And for me that is traumatic, and hurtful. I don’t know how my sisters put up with it, but they don’t need my help obviously, so good luck ladies! Mama Jean protected me from people like Mama, and trained me to face her, and survive it again. Facing the past you came from is very difficult, because all the emotions I felt within that woman came flooding back up, like poison. Mama jeans love line helped me survive it again, so I could cut this evil tie that has been poisoning me for years. Energy flows whether we are together or not. Mama needed to be put on notice about her nasty ideas of me.

I do value my reputation, and it has taken me 54 years to muster up the courage to set Mama straight about me. Not an easy job. But very needed, if I want all I can have with Mama jean. Mama is just a lady these days that I came from. I have honored her and she has blocked me. So I told it like it was for me, to free myself from her nasty energy. She can swim in that cesspool if she wants to, but I will not be joining her. She thought that she was at the one rejecting me again, no. I came back to see with my own eyes who I came from. She can’t ell the truth? She did not make the grade, nor did my sisters. I have standards, Mama Jeans standards now.

Thanks for diving deep with me today.

God bless