I was looking at my stats and noticed that in the corner of my screen it read, 51 followers. And it hit me, 51 people who liked, commented, or shared something I said. That is an excellent point to a life lesson. How far does our voice reach? Infinitely is the answer. We each have a voice, that can be used as a tool to curb ignorance in some way. WE each possess a spirit or a spirit possesses us. WE are all here to learn about the energies here, it is all we talk about. The energy of a person, place or thing and what we interpret it to mean. We many times fail to see, and yet eventually do, and then we go to the next lesson. This place is a classroom. I am one student among many. I am what we called adopted, which means I was separated from my clan of assignment. I was raised without my natural biological history, mirroring, (which means I never looked at a kinsmen growing up, someone who is my own blood), and without even the curticy afforded to other children who loose their own Mama’s, grieving was denied me, and I have been strapped to grief my whole life, until I outed grief by telling my truth to all of you. My grief was a loss of my Mother, Unit leader, brownie leader, seamstress, chef, doctor, nurse, etc. etc, etc….. as Yul Brynner would say. And that is a huge loss to come into the game of life with at the get go.
Give me a break will ya! Excuse me for breaking the silence that no one adopted enjoys about their family origins. Hello! We do have voices and names even if changed and rearrange by society in their attempts to do, GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH US. We still have not even gotten recognition by the President, we still are denied by our states in having what is rightfully by birth, through DNA, ours for god sake. And as we can see by the number of bloggers that grow each day that tell their tales of woe, which fucking matter! Our woes matter. Because it is showing us, where we are weak, so that we may exercise humanity with one another. What harm comes to anyone for saying, Yes, they are right. The numbers are growing of reports of abuse and confusion and death and woe, to adoptees and those who participate in this arena, called Love.
If my own Mama calls me crazy, and can not understand her own childs words, there is something extremely off. Mama’s know, they hear with their hearts. And my Mama’s just blown off the chart and trying to recover for the biggest mind fuck I just gave her when I told her the unedited version of my truth. She got the full version, of me coming clean, in front of everyone that wanted to watch and witness it. As I told my truth and responded to hers, we both were illuminated to what was unseen by both of us. And I see it now, that we both had similar truths in the one thing we share, relinquishment changed us all. And now we sound crazy to each other, and our ability to communicate with each other has been stunted somehow. Mother and daughter should be connected by our hearts, ours are ripped out and bleeding. That is what I see. Her heart was ripped, mine was a ripped, at the same place except differently experienced, like a mirror.
As I visited my Mama, I could see her struggle for common ground that we could understand each other, but she did not expect me back, that is the rub. So she needed a foundation to build on. Ours was cracked from the get go. And lie upon, lie had build up over the years, like calcification on a tea pot. And we needed some vinegar bad, to clean that up. All truths were exposed to my truth, which showed how much I was connected to my Mama’s ultimate truth. As I uttered my words, they hit her heart dead on, and crushed the lies that protected her, from what? What would my Mama need to protect herself from? Truth, truth spoken in love, meaning for love, not pleasure. Mama feared the truth that was trapped within her, truth that was silenced like a child who’s been gagged, the cries muffled in a world so loud and proud and ignorant.
Mama did not get this way over night, neither did I. It took day by day to keep herself in line. And I have broken the line, she held. And I have taken the wheel and have driven us off a cliff. But we did not go over, only the car we were driving in, with Adoption at the wheel telling us how to be, how to act, or not to act. Yeah, I spoke the unspeakable, for shame is not my game, nor my Mama’s game. But shame must be outed. Shame lives in the darkness, of no understanding. And once the truth is told, shame has no more power, except what we give it. My Mama’s did what they could. I lived with he decision. Now I speak up and ask, seek, and I find what I truly want and needed.
And I need a world that is for Moms. It is just a change in perceptive, true. But a big need. I was given into slavery, for love. It is a twisted story. And there are many chapters missing, for lack of information. These things I have spoken are thoughts, told to me, digested and spit back out at society. I am no mistake, but many made me feel like I was, including my Mama. I was no disabled person, but many made me feel that way. I was no dumbie, yet folks tried to deem me as such. And many left me in the dark, and laughed because I did not know. When you have been born genetically blind, with no mirror to straighten yourself out by looking into that you came from, how can one be better? So, with that placed on my table of life at two days old? I took what Mama gave me and I ran with it. I took what was given to me, and did the best I could with what I got. And my Mama tells me I am crazy as she denies me access to my Mirror, (Herself), Priceless, Adoptions mark again of ignorance that has scared my Mama and me beyond recognition, but I just am unable to give up on myself. So, I don’t give up on her, she is the roots to this tree. She is the nourishment for my small roots that have been cut off and struggle to grow to ground me.
I mean, I am a big picture person. And this is a big picture that I am trying to paint here. And you have to look at it from up high, so you can see all the connections, and roads and ideas, and how they all affect us all. I do. That is how my brain works. Details, patterns, and connections. Because I was denied my own biological family for a mirror, I learned to study patterns in people and families, so I could manage to function. I did not come from a natural understanding of the family unit, mine was destroyed the day I went home with Mama Jean, she had to rebuild me, from what Mama Linda gave her, which was a lot of pain, and anger. I have worked for years taming my lion within, because I did not loose the me that was born from my Mama. But anger is a teacher too. I was angry for all the homework, and reduces. I do hate redoing work. And I had to do it all over, learn a new mama, new life, everything new. But my anger was at what folks don’t seem to see. What they take for granted. Why no one listens, or sees, the losses we suffered and our children suffer because of a severed limb, me, of a family tree has had to go through to live and grow and thrive. It has taken me years to integrate it all together.
I am grown now. And have lived under the old outdated regime. And my anger is now for children today. And anger bids me to speak my truth. And these children deserve better than what Adoptions dishing out, this is slop, compared to Gods way. Which is to protect the family units, educate folks, stay updated, speak truth, find way to help people conceive that want to, and help those who do not to not have to. I feel we are all in the drivers seat here, and have an opportunity to change an old way and make it way better. But we must see this dead end? Surely. That those that cannot conceive want to hold on, and justify this way. And those who conceive buy into this way, to rid themselves of something they choice to make and are ashamed of. WE need not hide behind an unworthy mask and deceive ourselves into thinking children don’t think their parents matter. Poppycock.
My family heritage has been handled very poorly. And I scarcely know who I am for lack of information that can be given. I know who I am, but not who I am from, and that is important in the development of my mind and identity. I now cannot just identify with one side or the other, but both. And that means people need to change their perspective to adjust to that. Which means to lay down any grudges, insecurities, fears. And we must, if we wish to overcome this curve, forge ahead, with truth in the lead, as God instructs us to, if we wish to be free of the old way. We must throw it all out, except Love. Love will be left when we let it all go, and we all must let it go. The entire unit must let go. Not just me.
So. followers, I am humbled by your presence, and inspired to keep going to see where this all leads, because you show up and give me your feedback. We must find a way home. This is planet is our home, we adoptees need to unpack our baggage. And people need to just deal. We have a place, any place we want, if we will just, speak up and make people see what we need. WE need to keep going within, talking to the child that experienced this. Children are pure, with only good intentions. We want the world to see, what Adoptions done to us. And if the world says we are crazy? Well, the world is wrong. Because it was the world and our Mama’s that made us the way we are. Many starving for their Mama’s love, and getting a death notice. What in the world is wrong with you, world.
I want to know what is wrong with a society that could leave it this way so long. There needs to be more care to detail. Our heritages matter and link us to this place. Our bodies have a story to tell too. They came from people we don’t know and yet do. You’re right, this is a destress signal. I have been sending it out since day one of relinquishment. My signal does not go out until my Mother unit completes our cycle that has been in limbo since relinquishment. And that is how i see it for us all who are adopted. Developmentally we are on point to go home, it is natural and pure. To go home is instinct. The bodies instinct to find Mother that calls us back to her. For all children deserve their families blessing. And any Mama that thinks her child is not a blessing? Has lost her cotton picking mind, and needs her child to get it back.
Thanks for following me down this rabbit hole of truth.
Thank you for being able to dive deep with me today..
God bless us all, as we go home..xo