Like ok

I’m up here or where ever I am blogging. On my bed. Writing again. But ok. I’m telling the tail right? Riveting tail from scratch no edits. The raw 411 story of my adoption story. And?

Folks be calling me? Crazy for telling it? Like who in their right mind would tell a tail like mine if it were not true and you all call me crazy? Adoption is crazy folks. There are no rules. It’s not founded in fact and is steeped in lies. Dudes and Dudettes, please. Let’s get real.

This Cats out of the bag. And I don’t back down. I am a lioness. A goddess. A human with a brain that’s working quite well thanks to my Mama’s. Who are not crazy either.

Adoption crazy. And it makes me wish I was crazy. But I am not. I am the girl next door who’s had to grow up without her Mama. Who’s tired of this bullshit. And wants to be able to go home to her !a,as without all this fuss and whatever! Is that really to much to ask? A phone call would be a great beginning. I am waiting. Trying to be patient. Not my strong suit these days it’s been 55 years. My patience is gone.

I’m crazy? For telling the truth?And asking fir what I want and why? For being vulnerable enough, which takes great strength, to expose myself and you call me crazy? What books do you read? Brene’ Browns books would be a great start to learn about vulnerability and the benefits. Her book daring greatly gave me the courage to come out about my experiences growing up adopted to add to the rising population of participance in the Adoption arenas history. My story counts towards finding a better way.

Like ok, we talk about slavery. We are confronting our past about the treatment if blacks. Don’t hate me for my word choice. Get the point. We Adoptees are enslaved as well. It’s a very subtle inslavement of our minds. The fact are shown. We just have to tie them together in our minds to see the evidence is clear. Adoption changes us. And we read actions above all and listen to words. And the words spoken to us growing up did not make lingual, mathematical2x, vibrational sense. That’s what I a, calling it. We lingually, mathematically, vibrational, realize upon the event, that our Mama was subtracted from our equation. At birth the bond between Mother and child is at its strongest. Being removed cause us to amp it up more to maintain the bond. It’s a metamorphosis. We do it to survive. I am claiming myself to be this way.

Other Adoptees may identify with this that I am aware of about myself and my body. And the child wishes to go home. For me an alarm went off. And is still on, that is why I speak here before you. To show you my struggle to even go home to be with my Mama while she is still living? My body and mind enjoy her company. And I feel left out. And ignored. I know I am a daughter? And my Mama cares for me. I wish to doesn’t time with her beyond all this. But she had to know. That’s my rules. Truth. Even if it hurts. That’s what my Mama taught me, when she sent me to Mama Jean.

Read this book. It’s mind opening. Love her. Great soul.

now you know why I am telling all. It’s time for some real feedback and not this feedback loop!

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