If your noticing that someone messed with my head. BINGO! Someone did mess with my head and it’s not my Mama. Like I told you, I hit a wall at three years old. And I hit my head many times, many not on my own.

If I appear touched in the head? You’re really right. And I won’t hide it any longer. I am owning myself like this. Many things planted in my head that were not of God. Many. As you have read my coming out statements. Let the record show my mental wounds. Here. My testimony as an Adopted child now grown.

My Mothers gift was not appreciated. And my innocent love was twisted to suit another person dream. I’ve been stretched and pulled. And I’ve had to listen to folks put my manufacturers, especially my Mama, down. How do you think that felt to me? Hmmm? How do you think I felt about who I came from? I had to dig deep within me to know who my Mama was. I saw her in my nature.

She lives eternally within my flesh and the flesh of my children. She is our essence. She’s a rock because she stands on the rock: which meals me a rock too. God help us. Who can do my Mamas job better? No one! Not even close folks. Not even. I apologize if that hurts. But that’s my truth. It’s just different. Way different than Mama would do. For sure.

I was chained by words spoken over me that held me back from telling them. Chains like,”no one will ever love you as much as me”, “beggars can’t be choosers”, ” people in hell want ice water”. Well? I guess Mama sent me to hell? But why? Why? Did she realize she sent me to hell? No. She was deceived. I don’t hold it against her. No. I forgave Mama like Jesus forgave. Mama did not know what she did. No. But she swallowed that lie, hook, line and sinker. She did.

I’ve been so sick with worry and fear. Why? Would if Mama thinks I am a liter like Mama Jean ? But I believe she tells on herself. Because she lied to me. Told me my Mama was a bigger person than she and then treated me like a toy. Only to be a doll that sat and played the quiet game while she told me what to do. Dressed me like she wanted. Made me be silent, invisible. I’ll not take this back. I dont want to remember.

But deep within me, I know my Mama can make it better for me. Just with her touch she can calm me. When she yells. I listen. She’s my Mama. No one else will do. I asked God a long time ago for her back. And I am not ashamed of that.

I am a tomboy. Mama Jean showed me she wanted a girly girl. Failed there. I just don’t like dolls. I like people. Mama Jean wanted quiet. I am loud and proud. She told me yesterday that I was flaunting my father and her names for my own glory? Am I not supposed to be proud of their accomplishments in my home town? Oh. I forgot the quiet game again. Be invisible Belinda. I’m tired of being patsies clown over here.

Will Linda Marie Brown please stand up and take what I restored to her the day I made contact. But she’s not picked it up yet? Or she’d be here moving me home. She would not tarry so. She’d fly down with a U-Haul or. Ovine company? and scoop me up and tend my wounds. She’s a fierce woman and not to be trifled with when angered.

I cry uncle lord. I want Mama back for real. I’m not shamed to humble myself and throw the dirty laundry out to show why. I need Mama. I really didn’t want to go here. But Mama does not seem to get it. How hard it is to tell this story. I was molested at a young age by a boy everyone knew was a sexual predator. Yet he baby sat me? My father married his Mama. Which was extremely difficult to stay composed about and see my father. He did not ever know. I never told him. He died oblivious.

I am not a mess per say. I just need some tender loving care. A friend like. mama to ground me back into who I came from, my roots. That is a good thing. And I’ve told it all here so it’s documented. Recorded. And there’s more. But you’ll have to read it from my book. It’s gonna take Mamas sour dough pancakes to get me through writing it all. And her natural way. She’s amazing.

She’s strong. Strong enough to weather my storm. She’s got a Jesus umbrella. It’s kept the poison off her. Thank god. She’s not infected with it.

If you were an adopted child

Would you like your Mama put down?

I get upset when a-moms on twitter talk smack about the Mama. I feel it hurts Jesus too.

Call me crazy. It Adoption is a predictor. Seeking whom he may devour. So strong like a roaring lion. Going to and fro. I report today. Adoption is a lie.

We all come from the breath if God who sits in the throne room. There is no need to be adopted by the god who knits us together. There is only an acceptance of the fact. Why would god send his only son to save a bunch of strangers? We all are gods children. All. Those who do not accept this, are the ones who can’t see.

If I could go back? I would not. I’m done going back. I’m going forward towards my prize. Which is Mama.

Thank you.

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