Yes. My Mama needs this.

Why? Why tell the truth now?

Well I am glad you asked me that. Let me tell you why.

It wasn’t an easy choice to make. But the feelings of feeling like Mamas bad little secret just got to me. And her. If she to the place of honesty yet? She didn’t mean to lie. She had to.

For me. Because she felt it was best. I know. Sounds silly to many. But she really was doing (her) best. All alone. With no help. And definitely no honest feedback about the affects of her decisions on us all. Including me. And me?

I’m the canary. I’m the thermometer of the tribe. The shaman. The priest. The pulse. How? Biology. Science and design. Can I walk away from my sovereign duties as said Canary? No. Wish I could. Been gone a while. Still being called home. This canaries chirping for all she worth!

But. And their is a butt to this cigarette smoking. Mama. Must own me. Own her daughter fully. Own that I am hers and fully recognize herself within me shining brightly back at her with two blue eyes with a flame in the middle burning for her. There is no shame in my game. I’ve boldly come home to face the demon in that beautiful mind with my perfect love to cast fear out of my own Mamas mind.

Everything. False evidence appearing real. I am real. Nothing false about me? Flesh and bones. Filled with love for my Mama? And folks gonna hate on me? My whole life Mama?

For loving you? You tell me? Who’s crazy? A girl should not have to fight like I have to maintain such a pure love as mine? Why should any daughter be thrown into despair about her own Mamas disappearance? Told so many fables? Lies! I’ve told them all here.

And at the end of the day I lay my head down in a garage with my five grand dogs and thank God for my Mama still? She has not realized what she’s done and who she did it too? And yeah. I’m eating now openly before the world for Mama to show up? My silent protest. Of love. I’m calling Mamas hand. She’s not shown it yet. But I know a poker face when I see one. And I came from that poker faced beauty.

Lord. I don’t know that my Daddy wasn’t love sick about that Mama of mine? It’s all ooey and gooey. Sappy. Poetic? Lord. You just have to be in this body to experience those two together? Like woe! I don’t care what Mama might try to say about it? I know! Wish I didn’t? But that’s the breaks of being Adopted? No lines drawn by anyone about anything? Just a bag of goodies reach in and do what’s on the paper? For me? It’s was what Mama and Daddy said that’s I did and that made Mama Jean very upset? As you can imagine? Thinking she was my Mama and all?

I tried to tell her gently? Somehow I had my own creed? Nine months and all the dna of both sides to explore? No body said I could go there? Scriptures actually lead us there? Scriptures are programs using words to describe something. Decoding scriptures is the hugest call. Dna is coding. Words and feelings and emotions from past experiences loaded into each of us. At our disposal. No one told me I couldn’t go there for help. That God could not lead me to healing in the dna?

As much as the adoption script was painted on me each day? I had some kind of tephlon coating that it slid right off. Like some kind of Griswold skillet, well seasoned. Only needing a wipe of the wind to clean it for the next days use. Oh I was clean the next day? Bright and shiny I be linda! Not Jean. I Be Linda. Each day. Over and over Be Linda. She didn’t even realize she was programming me? God was programming me? Right under her nose?

Tell me who I was from right in my name? Until Shirley told me my Mamas name was Linda? Well? I had no conscious idea of the affect it had on me? Both Mamas in my name? My second name? Was there another name for me beside Stephanie Anne? It’s powerful when you wake up to something and it takes you years to describe it to your own Mama who acts like she’s some cheap Trollope from Calamazole! This is the madness of Adoptions triadic trapazoid from Bermuda?

To think my Mama has been trapped so long in a very scientifically proven and backed mind state? Like sciences knows this is happening but do we know science is happening when we just desire to alter shit? What are all these studies for? Wall paper? That’s what I am saying. Science has proven the affects. My Mama has not understood science but no need to leave her there? I’ve been teaching her. According to her mind. Which has been limited in its view of the Adoption experiences as a whole. Not that her mind was limited. Let’s get that straight. Her mind is limitless. That’s what she learning. With me. Here. She’s been limited by her choice of words over her life for so long she’s become like some auto pilot machine. Until I pushed her buttons. And stopped her.

But it didn’t stop there. It’s was like a reverb of an echoing of all shed said for so long. Voices from yesterday’s script bouncing here and there. Taunting her. Could my love blow them away? Old words said over and over like a record? Could I blow her needle loose? I think I’d did.

I’ve shared with her the many sides I have experienced and they have hit on her own feelings. She’s been triggered for a reason. For a validation of her truth she spoke loud and clear to me. Her canary. Education always begins at home. In your heart first. You love yourself hard. Pack yourself full of self love. And love for Mama. This pistol Anne packs some heat for her Mama. No price to High! Why waste time of flowery word when grit gets attention. Dirt gets attention.

What the hell did ya think you made Mama?

You really do make me chuckle and scratch my head? All this silence. For my performance. Of the end of the nightmare on Linda Lane. It all began the day she gave her love away. Never caged. Her fiery love grew. And that passionate love flew. No coop. To roost. Soaring. Diving. Twirling love flew. For all to watch in splendor at how tender a love flew back to you.

Is not love a bit mad? To love beyond the lines.

Beyond the fire. Loves calls us to retire. Ugh. So gooey. Sappy love.

He must have written some poetry to you Mama? It’s all ok now Mama. Why is that so hard to believe? I don’t get the joke here? Should I hate my own Mama? Not sure I get the issue of why kids want to go home is an issue at all? Am I missing some content?

Yeah know. If I took the time to really spell this out for ya? Your mind would be blown away. And when I just throw it up here? It does sounds crazy. Anyway I say it?

  • And that’s the point. So many points don’t meet here in adoptionsland. It’s like a really bad made quilt. Point missed here. There. It’s all wonky. Why? Cuz we cut up a perfectly good Person to pieces to paste all over some pretty big adult problems like morality and penance for a supposed sin?
  • There’s a lot of mindsets in the way of birth and children’s rights to stay put and have their own Mama own what she made and be proud of them and supported in doing just that! Not demeaned. Lord have mercy folks. Get out of my way all mindsets that even try to defy my love and faithfulness for my Mamas. And unity.
  • I’m bringing their minds together with mine to see beyond Adoptions lousy scripting? To see the sisterhood that is. Woman helping woman. And children paying the price cuz woman ain’t further along than they should be. Respected. Honored. Life’s up. Silly things like that? Cuz woman do some crazy shit. Adoption is one of the craziest. And it not wound healing it’s wound management, and the child is the manager of both the wounds as I see it.
  • When my Mamas hurt they draw me in. When they feel better that throw me away. Patterns of behavior they learned growing up. Patterns that change when one person stands up and ripple another affect into the pool of three. These woman don’t like how I feel. Now that I’ve thrown some shade on them from the tree they grew me into being. I cast a big shadow. And they like their own line light.
  • They just didn’t realize how out of date they were. No one told them about the times that change. They are getting it together and will appear from my shade sorted and put together. Soon. This is what adoption did to them and I am leading them out of ignorance. We all got to grow up sometime ladies. Play times over.
  • Two woman raised me. Two woman supported that raising. And now two woman support me back for supporting them while they played with my life. Seems like a fair exchange. For a life?
  • psychecafe

    I am an Adapted, artist, Mother, a soul, a human, singer, writer, activist, minister and deprogrammer and reprogrammer of minds. And I am here because we need to change how you see it, a lot of things that is. For us Adoptees who have lived in the dark. We were cut off from our families. And that is sad people.

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