What I am proposing is a new relationship built on truth.

I’m proposing something all new after exposing the old way of thinking for us all.

Adoption is experienced by everyone involved. No one gets out without Adoptions sting leaving a mark.

I’ve exposed my scares and the marks they made on me.

I’ve exposed the scares of my family and the marks made on them.

And I am applying the oil and the wine of my love onto those scares.

My testimony makes all that my family has gone through valid and true. Recognized. Touched. Seen.

It’s not easy exposing a wound that’s been labeled otherwise.

It’s not easy pulling the bandage away and showing the puss and infection to a family that’s been thinking it’s all healed. Nope. Not easy getting them to look at what Adoption did to us.

It’s not easy to pry the bandage from their grip as they try to cover it over again and again with the same dirty bandage. Things don’t heal like that.

I am building the bridge to healing but the wound is all my families known.

They do act like Ferrell cats about me. It’s so weird to watch. They just scatter and hide.

My family has associated these pain with me. Which is partly true. But Adoption is the one thing that started all this diversionism. It’s a bookkeeping nightmare for adoptees trying to settle themselves into who they are and where they really came from because no one tells us that real story.

My son even wrote my Mama a letter. On his own. Which tells me that he hopes and has thrown out a rope to his grandma to help her over this crack in her sidewalk.

My kids and I don’t hate anyone. But we all have attached the pain to me causing it. Adoption causes all this confusion and misinformation. I’m working to clear up the mess and set it all straight so the family can see clearly. And stop running from me.

I desire that my Mama be able to face this chapter of her life with her head held high. And all her ducks in the rows God intended us to be.

I was always an addition to the family. My arrival was delayed. It’s work being born again into your family of origin after living years as a captive to a narrative not your own.

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