I’ll keep saying it again. Til ya get it.

My life as an adoptee has been a roller coaster of emotions and feelings.

Does no one wrestle with their flesh? And speak of the struggle? Is that not what the scriptures are for? To help us crucify the flesh?

The road of Adoption is lined with people place and things that can cause one to stumble. I’ve fallen down so many times and yet kept getting up to try again.

My blogging is my way of letting people see the struggles I’ve gone through? And the battles I’ve won due to my own Mamas prayers.

When we pray. We become the answer to that prayer. Growing up at the piece of this triad that can bring two woman together was a job for me. I did not look at my life as just a parade or a fairytale. I have looked at it as a job.

All good jobs must be done with gusto and force of will. I used my natural will to love my own Mama, and channeled that towards a woman who was a stranger to my body, yet not a stranger to my soul. That’s huge. And is then point.

Mistakes? They happen. And we don’t dwell on just the mistake. We dwell and search for solutions.

Should two woman that came to my damn rescue? Be ignored for their struggles and work? No.

But! To make it crystal clear? We must clear away and recognize the mistakes that have made each us three stronger. Why?

So, they don’t keep biting us all in our asses. That’s why. There is no need to ignore our war wounds of battling with each of our flesh bodies. Our body’s will expire at some point. And then? What’s left? What’s the story in the end?

Did these woman succeed? Hell yes they did. I’m the living proof of their success. Two woman who have not met. Succeeded in the task of helping me live. And that matters beyond all the mistakes. Because I picked up each arrow. And shot until those arrows hit the target.

Pretending it’s all ok is like saying an athletes juts woke up and won a metal. We all know that athletes fail and make mistakes. But practice is what wins the metals. I’ve not given up ones. On either of these woman in my life. Nor my family that I love dearly and have longed for as long I’ve I’ve been alive.

Sure. I’ve complained. Which? I did little of growing up. I just kept trying to be my best. Working on myself. Working. Working. Praying. Doing. Being. And my Mamas have done the same. And have had their own demons to slay.

And I’ve loved them despite their demons that chased them away from me. Thinking they failed when they did not. Yes. I’m different than most. So what? Being Adopted meant that I would grow up differently than others. I’m not the same. Neither are they the same.

But in the end. We all win. And it’s not about all that I’ve said. It’s despite all I’ve said and experienced that we win.

And I wanted everyone to know who I am. So they could know the woman I’ve looked up to my whole life. And to pop the damn bubbles that protected us from nothing. We all had our issues. Everyone does.

And I as an adoptee sound the alarm when I see my fellow Adoptees struggling to see love. I stand up to say hey! Everyone’s trying. Everyone’s made mistakes. There is no win when we turn away from those who show up when our own are unable to finish.

The win is when two woman meet after so long and see each other in the one person they both worked to help.

My flesh. Crucified daily. Here. On this blog for the whole world to see for that matter. As I rise from the ashes of yesterday to Be Linda Jean.

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