My Mama’s were raised in another time.

Back in the day when I was born, it was very different than what it is like today for woman and children. And still today, we struggle to hit the mark. Woman have been baring children for years and the world goes around and around. And yet woman, many of whom have made great sacrifices, and gambled for their children well being.

Adoptions touts that they save lives and increase a childs status quo and erases any perceived stains from a childs record, and yet the relinquishment of a child to auction off to the highest most hungry bidder is precisely what is really going down. A manipulation, that is what Adoption is.  Free will. And even though we get a free will pass, we must remember, that at the other end of that free will is the affect on others and ourselves. I speak my truth to break the sound barrier that keeps the minds of society deaf to our voices and our stories.

I was born in a time of war and the sexual revolution. Many children were removed for such behavior as to be wild and free and procreate, and the people procreating did not understand the responsibility that comes with intimacy and a child. We all are learning. My Mama’s did their best with what was available at the time. I get that.

What I talk about is what I see that could make it way better, than another child having to hit the road to protect them from the heat. Because we still get heat. Especially kids like me. I was loud and proud about being adopted and answered countless questions and educated people about what we feel and think all along my way growing up. How can people know something you don’t teach them?

I have been observing the people in my life forever. I have asked for the things I speak of here before, but I was young. They think I forgot, or was maybe just mentally disabled and babbling. Either way, I have needs that have not been met. And one is the need for physical contact with my Mama, and a workable relationship, founded on honest and truth, in love. Like, educational, each learning the other. My Daddy was real keen on learning. She did not see that in him, well, it was there, cuz its in me.

Back in the day you saved face. You just moved on and learned your new lines and practiced them and taught them to your children. My Mama’s life was altered Mam, she carried me for nine months like it was nothing, popped me out and went home to clean the bathroom. That is not exactly, normal. Kind of twisted. Cleaning a dirty bathroom after giving birth to your girl? hmmm?

Well, it was some kind of coping mechanism for sure. She cleaned that mess up in her mind and neatly place it within her heart, incapsulated, in love. As much as she had to give me at the time. And now I just want to show her what I did with that seed? I mean I took her twisted idea of love and ran with it. I have been loving people for years and shine my light on many who are in the dark and need help lighting a situation up. My children are trained to do the same, by my example. They do it like breathing. And are very sensitive like me.

Mama, Hey, many people judge woman who do what you do. There are many schools of thought on Adoption. And I feel it benefits you the Mama of a child touched by adoption to be informed of my stand about it. And that I always stand for you, but don’t always see it like you, or agree. Mutual respect is all I ask. I do not bow to anyone except Christ, God, Source.

I know what you thought back then and now. And I see it. And all we need is one on one time and wine and love to iron it out. Do you hate ironing too? Well, brush up on ironing. I cleaned those dirty windows you were looking through, and you might want to clean you mind up too, it is dirty in here, remember, children leave cells behind, after birth, mine are still inside you. That is why I am under your skin, I always have been.

Trust, God. Would the God you know and serve, send you a demon? The devil my ass. God is all. Victory is always available, but we must believe. Believing Gods promises means practicing his word so that You can see the laws work. Trust this process. You will thank me in the end. I know, it hurts, and is disruptive.

And I see how my conception, birth and relinquishment caused such a disturbance for you. More than you could take at the time. I sincerely apologize. Seems strange apologizing to your Mother for being, but it feels right. But I am here to help you see me differently, but you must lay the old me down and it will only be for a second, and I will be right back to connect on a better plane. We don’t need to meet in secret anymore, and the girls be damned! They do  not own you. You are the Mama of 4 girls. We all matter and they don’t seem to get that? What do  you do? Grab them by the ear and show them? Well, heavens no, they are grown and should get it. But they don’t. Tough one for sure.

I mean they don’t even see your sacrifices, all they can think about is their old status quo. I wonder, do they even consider how it feels when they agree to exclude me from the family events and Mother daughter events as well. I imagine you must have to keep me small not to upset their little play going on and on. And I gladly have accepted that for a time, separation is how it would be for you and me. But I desire to break that policy and reconnect to you. It seems so stingy of them to  agree, that whatever you have told them is true. They don’t know you do they? Oh, when Mama tests… I learned long ago.

I’ll say this. They really don’t want to deal with me without Mama in my life. Mama Jean knows what its like and she kind of tired of it by now and wishes you would step the hell up and be good to the girl you gave her. OK? Many sides here. When you want your family to win, you have to address any and all weak links and discuss them. My family is non responsive, which to me means we are out of date and need to communicate our views and beliefs so we can get to know one another. My family is a bit reclusive and paranoid about me, which tells me they have many fears that they are not even fully aware of. They feel discomfort and think it is me, and yet, it is our Mama, calling me home and sisters that  need to grow the hell up.

You girls got her, 24/7. And Victoria? You don’t even appreciate Mama, like I do. You tell me it is Mama’s fault that you did not go to college, it was your own fault. You did not ask for help to fill out your forms and expected Mama to do it for you. Like hello! You chose another way! Own it. Be proud of it, stand up for yourself. Your time is worth something, don’t just give it away to those who do not see your worth. Liz best be paying you for being her live in Nanny. Seriously, or do what she can to help you. Teach her kids to respect you.

Adoption is confusing for all of us, and the information is not up to date if children like me who are grown now, stand idley by and let child after child slip through the fingers of their Mama’s and into a world without her. Mama’s are needed b their children for their best chance at well being. Relinquishment is an extremely harsh energy for a child to experience. And to grow up knowing that she’s out there somewhere living on without you is crushing to the spirit of every child relinquished.

The times have changed.

So the world must change.

Procrastination never does a thing

What kind of world do we want?

What are we will to work for?

Motherhood, a sovereign call to arms

I may not be the best Mother on earth. True. But what I want to say is this, I showed up when my bodily phone rang. I showed up and welcomed the children this universe sent to me and I did the best this Adoptee could do. When you consider all the tales I was told about who I was and what being adopted meant, I did ok.

It is not my job to tell my children how to live, but to teach them, train them to be the best they can be. To help form them. To rebuke them when needed, to comfort them when I could, and to show them they are not alone, ever. To speak to them and put words of hope and training so they could be the best they could be. For that, I showed up.

And its not easy being a Mother, no. It is not the gravy job of wall street, with accolades, bonuses for performance, and pats of the backs of my colleagues. It is a lonely job with not many frills as we wipe the poopy butts and clean up vomit. It is not a glory job, while we work to train our kids to be tough and yet kind. It is not the job of the century where we make it to the front of forbes magazine for making it through the month on little pay. But I showed up anyway.

Motherhood is a journey of the soul, that calls those who show up to dig deeper. It calls us to dig our heels in and love like no other, with grit and with guts. Motherhood is a soveirgn call to arms, the arms that rock the children of the future. And that is why I speak of my struggles as an adoptee. For we must look at what adoption does to our future, when we choose to not show up for our jobs given to us by our willingness to conceive. Our willingness to open our wombs to be penetrated by a man, and launch that rocket that grows into an arrow. As we bare our children in pain, we birth the future.

Is adoption the real way? Is it addressing our societal programming and changing it? I think not. And I write here to show my pain and struggle so that you, can see for yourself what it did to me.

My Mother did not show up, she used her free will card. And another took her place, with little to nothing to go on, she raised me as best she could, considering she did not even meet the one who I was made from, considering the fact that she did not have an owners manual. I commend Mama Jean for her courage to do such a thing for me, and for my Bio Mom as well.

It irks me that after 24+ years the woman who’s life was bettered by my absence has not even sent a thank you card to Mama Jean. It makes me weap for a world so ungrateful for a woman like Mama Jean, who did not hesitate to take me on. Who tirelessly tended the child another woman threw away. Like trash. She went home after giving birth to me and cleaned her bathroom and thought that was all that was required of her.

I think it very telling that he room she cleaned was the bathroom, were we shit, and piss and clean ourselves. I think it say a lot about what she thought about me. Did her act of cleaning do the job? Hell no, for today she is still full of dirty thoughts about me. Her actions screaming so loudly and yet she can not hear. I speak for those children today that lie in a crib, reeling from the change that just took place, wonder inside without words, what kind of place is this,and where is my Mother, her face and voice and smell not seen hear or experienced. And that, that is what I want to change.

A Mother is a calling that should not be taken lightly, nor should it be aborted, or can it be adopted away. As I have seen in her eyes, I see a woman who has become numb to her calling. Her mind numb to the voice of me that come from the cells that live within her.

Woman, take your womb seriously. Woman teach your daughters to do the same. Teach them not to just give there bodies to any man, teach boys to respect the woman body. Teach, teach teach this away. We can educate ourselves out of this mess called adoption, so wrapped in such beautiful paper, and yet stinking like shit just the same. To not show up, is to not trust the universe that sent that precious child growing within you.

Children are the future. And if we just kill that future or reroute the future, what does that say about us? What does it say about our faith in a God so many churches preach from. We damn the future to do such a thing. And I charge every woman reading this to take it seriously. For the future is our only hope, those children with the gifts taken from our own Dna are the hope we seek. Do not throw hope to the wind.


Thank you for diving deep with me today.

Loosing your mind is a good thing



IMG_7826Loosing your mind is a good things. And here is why? The mind, the mammalian mind, is limited, it is like a hard drive, a storage unit to help us live, but there is a world wide hard drive, like the internet, God has all the info we need. So loosing your mind, letting what you think about it go, telling your truth, leaves room for God to work in our lives. When we identify our own thinking, our own short fallings, our own crazy, confused and painful experiences and the thoughts that went with that, we transcend those very things. Its like it busts it up, it breaks you free.

When we realize that we don’t have all the info, and when we understand that this world is so complex, and that it has intelligence, beyond what our little minds can think. WE have connected to the vine, and will begin to see things start moving, especially shit, shit we have held onto for years. I believe God called me to air my shit on this blog, to show folks the way to get real, is to let go of what we thought about it, tell the pain about it, and be vulnerable, because we are vulnerable. To act like we have it all together is psychosis.

Definition of psychosis
plural psychosesplay \-ˌsēz\
: a serious mental illness (such as schizophrenia ) characterized by defective or lost contact with reality often with hallucinations or delusions

Now I would say, Now, as I look at myself, I was psychotic before I spoke my truth. I had been cut off from reality as it truly was. I had lived years without my Mother. And I had told myself lots of lovely things to pass my time. Like she really wanted me back, was one of them. I told myself she cared for me and wanted, needed to have me back. Not knowing her story of why she obviously was acting like she did not, when I came back to knock on her door. I can see now, that that was my truth, until I saw my Mothers truth. And it has taken me 24+ years to come awake to it. I did not want to believe it. But it stares me straighten my soul now, I look at it, and I choose to love it. For I know God is there. But I will not say I like it. No, I do not like it.

What kind of daughter would not want her Mother? Like that is kind of a normal, Children want their Mothers, and Mothers have to do a lot to make a daughter cut them off. But I am long suffering, and I came to love her, and I am not off course at all. I do love her. I love her enough to bust her chops and show her who I really am. That I am a spirit, the same spirit that is within her. And I still do not know how I came to be. She did elude to the fact that she hit my father over the head with a flashlight after conceiving me in the back of a car. And that kind of sounds like she was not completely on board with he experience. I do not know if he pushed himself onto her, I hope not. But by the way she acts, it kind of makes me think he did. That maybe she got in over her head with him. I have been told of how he was, and I can see that. It hurts my heart to think that is the way I came to be. Cuz no one wants a child conceived like that, and it make me sad to think so.

But, these are still stories I tell myself, until she tells me the truth. And I am swirling around and around, trying to ground myself without it. I do not know why it matters so much, but it does. And seeing that your Mothers struggles with you, is not a fun place to go. It is not like Disneyland at all, more like being black, being judged for your skin, for your fathers actions. It is a prejudice that is not really on the radar these days, but its there, running in the background of life. Woman throwing away their babies because of their fathers. I can say this, my children, are my children. And no man will make me walk away from them. I may let them walk away from me and my choices, but I always have them inside my hearts. I can not help some of the things I have done, believe me, if I could, I would have avoided many of them. But many I would avoid, were the very things that brought them into my life, so, it gets tricky, trying to be God.

But these minds of ours, so strong, can get us into trouble. But trouble is why Jesus came, right? All have fallen short. And grace is for the taking, grace means we are all learning, all coming of age, all transcending our missed marks. This world is a spiritual class room. It is a place we forget that we are pieces of God, and get our head into the game, and then take them out again, and give those minds to God, for expansion, for edification, for connection. I feel like God ride within, observing, and that at some point, God within, gets ahold of us. And when we submit to that God within, begins to teach us. As we accept that we are the trinity, we can see, God is all and all is God. We see God everywhere and we see that we all have a sovereign duty to speak the truths we know, so that folks can learn and grow. Truth is subjective to the one who experienced it, and everyones truth is different.

My truth was very different from my Mothers truth of me. And my truth of her, was very different than my truth of her. But does that mean we must  just throw in the towel? Especially as christians, can we just block folks? Is that in the bible? Block your brother or sister? No, it is not there. So we must go forward and listen to the spirit within, and set the flesh down and let spirit have a talk to it. Connections is what’s going on her, getting past the packages we travel in, these earthen vessels, carry very precious cargo. When we realize that, we see God in everyone, just that some are at different stages than others, and our truth is like a ladder, or a hand, reaching out, to pull them up or over across the abyss that is between us.

Corinth 13:12 KJ For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then shall I know, even as also I am known.

It speaks before this of putting away childish t things. Stories that are not grounded in truth are childish. Or more like child like. We play pretend. But when the truth of a matter such as mine, comes barreling down the smoking gun of your Mothers truth, it takes the breath away, it makes you stagger for a bit from the blow. One day as it hit me, she had said something to me on the phone. That she was not wanting me, that my truth was not hers. That statement, those words stabbed at my truth like a hot knife, it was like molten lava over me, it was white hot truth. It began to sink in, she did not feel the same as me. And It would take me days to process what she had said, as it sunk into my head. That day after I had called her, we were still talking at the time, but I think this kind of stopped it. She saw my truth as well. She saw that I had held hope for her.  And that I had hoped and believed she did truly want me back in her life. A few days later I fell apart on the bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I rocked myself or comfort as it sunk in, that I was wrong. I wonder if she did the same? or was her heart to hard by now? Had her truth hardened her heart beyond God repair? Now, To know me, is to know this is not behavior that I engage in often. I was dealing with the truth like no other, white hot truth, hard truth. From the lips of the woman I loved. Was as hard as a sledged hammer to the brain. It was like she took my blanket of comfort from my very hands that day. She stole my precious dream, the one I told myself or comfort, away in one felled swoop. And my breath was gone, as I was crumpled on the floor of the bathroom trying got grapple alone with it all.

But loosing that mind of mine was what was needed. Why? Because that was precisely what God was doing. Prying my hands from a story, and my Mothers from hers. And I feel, call us to put those hands into each others, as God instructs, we must practice our Christianity. As we throw our bottle rockets and they blow up in our faces, and the smoke billowed, we were forging some thing new, and destroying something old. I don’t think she understood that and thought I was a bit mad. And I was mad. I had thought she wanted me back and was just feeling guilty, but she did not want me back, because she did not see herself in me. And we all know she is there in me, DNA proves it, when you hear me and her together, it is so surreal, it is so crazy. I leave her house and it sounds like she has possessed me and speaks from my mouth. I would say it is comforting, its like she is in the car with me. And that is really all a daughter wants from a Mother. Her time and her care. Right? Why should I be any different?

The stories we tell ourselves are comfortable. We fashion them to comfort us. But, the do not serve when comfort keep us in the comfort zone. God calls us higher, always. God calls our souls to dig deeper. And God was calling me to love her deeper than I had, past her truth. For beyond her truth and beyond my truth is Gods truth about it. And Mama Jean was a person too, a part of this situation now and had been since the day Mama Linda signed me over to her care. And this was just childish to not proceed to allow Gods love to be seen through us both. I had picked up many thoughts about it along my life path. And those things had to be told to Mama Linda and Mama Jean for us to adjust to what was really here. It needed to be spoken, so we could shed that story and embrace a new one. One of restoration.  It is not easy. But when you get the call, its best to obey. Even when your Mothers are comfortable with the story as it is.

I hope my story helps you understand. It is complex, yes. And there are many sides to this story. So it gets kind of confusing and that is precisely what I am trying to show you, my life is so complicated, with so many folks to learn so you can understand why I am the way I am.


Thank you for your time. Thank  you for coming here and reading my story and my babbling. I hope my truth gives you strength as you face  your own truth. I hope you find the comfort you need in the truth and that you will muster the courage to speak it. Your voice is one voice, but you are here for a reason, don’t take your pearls to the grave, share them for all to learn.

Thank you for diving deep with me today.

God bless.


Breaking up a holding pattern is not easy, but it can be done.

Breaking up my old holding patterns that I held with my Mothers was not easy. But this blog is proof it can be done. It is hard work of the soul, working with DNA within the body that has been programed by so many down the ages. Our ancestors program us all. That is what has fascinated me about being an Adoptee, the patterns in different people and families.

When you don’t know who you came from, or why you act as you do. When you don’t act like anyone you know? You become fascinated by the pattern in families. And you learn from them all. You learn their ways. And you are forced to act in ways that your body does not always like. Like foods you eat and things you do, ways you act, as in ways they act. It is quite fascinating indeed and as an Adoptee, I was watching everyone. Cuz my family was gone. So I needed to learn all I could to live and be my best. My birth Mother does not agree with my best and obviously judges me by her standards only.

I came to broaden her view and the views of my family. I mean I have learned that there ways are not like my ways for sure. Keeping family secrets is one I saw and confronted. It is not good to keep secrets from family members, it is hurtful. Especially when a child is the secret. I marvel at how my sisters just think it great? They say nothing about how I am treated. But codependency is like that isn’t it? Keeping the holding pattern in place so as not to tip the boat? Well, this boat is sinking folks. It has always been taking water. And the day I returned? Well, it was doomed to drown.

And that boat sinking, is not so bad. If we plan for it? If we call in another boat. A boat where all can ride? And get along? But when you are merging a new boat with new passengers, you must have a meet a greet. And truth should be the best foot first. Even if its hard to take. When we learn about others, and there strength and weaknesses, for a team does not work well unless all strength and weaknesses are visible and accessed. We see, that one has this strength and this weakness and we pare them with someone who has the strength to cover their weakness, you see?

Everyone wants to lead with their strength, but I look at the weaknesses, so that I can be that strength, when they need it. That is a good team member who know all about the people they are on a team or boat with. Only seeing strengths is lopsided as I see it. Because if you do not see the weakness, you will be blindsided when the person weak in that area is called to act. And so, we, if good team mate learn to help those who struggle in a certain area, to help them be stronger.

Our boats are merging, and have merged, but my Mother and sisters and nieces and nephews have not gotten off the old boat. You know, the one without me? And my boat, the boat God wishes us to get into, is so cool. Its full of love, and laughs and authenticity and honesty, like most families. But ours is slit up, we don’t act like a real family? What sisters would not invite their sister to come a visit? And me invite them? Ours. Except my sister Vicky, I invited her, and she came. It was amazing to have my big sister here. I was comforted to have her here. xo

But my other sisters, well, they are in their own little worlds without me. It seems they like it without their sister? And that troubles me, as a christian and as a sister. It troubles me that they could care less? They enjoy my Mother, and weekends and camping with her? Without me? Hmmm? Seems they think I could care less too? Well, I do care. I am a sister for God sake, like one who has dreamed of sisters so lovely as they? And yet, they do not feel the same? God has given us a chance, and I am tired of squandering it. They are God fearing folks? Do they not wish to let me into the fold? As God instructs? Hell, I opened my home to strangers, homeless folks? They can’t even let their sister in? Where is Christ in that?

Fear of the unknown is strong. And I smell it with them. I am coming back after all this time and turning it all up side down. But that is not true. The day I left it was turn upside down, I bring it right side up, and folks don’t really like change. I disrupt the feedback loop they are in. But that is not so bad? Would they want me to treat them so if they were me? Hell, no. I know how that feels. but would they want me to just forget them? Or not even try? And yet they are content to just go on without knowing me? Really knowing me?

Like my one sister who has relinquished a child, Yes the pattern continued and my sister followed int he steps of my Mother. And so you see, the feedback look of Adoption continues. And a child will come home.And my sister has the one person that can help her with that time, right within her grasp. And yet she has not reached out to me, she has recoiled. To the point that I had to come on her, and out her, so she would tell her children. They said they did. But, well, I am not sure about that. Her children have a right to know about their brother. Cant she see how it went with my Mother and me? Hello, wake up honey, don’t be like this? Guess she can’t see that side of it. To prepare is to be aware. Sister babe, I am proud of you for telling them if you did, but if not? Get to it, they will find these posts and be pissed you chose not to speak truth to them. Also, if you are lying, which is to withhold the truth, you will see lies in them and we don’t want that. It says a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump, now does it not?

It is not easy speaking truth to a family that has lived a lie for so long. The lie is living without their sister, who is alive and wanting to know them, all of them. So what I am weird? So what if I am strange, to you maybe? But your strange to me, especially since you are so distant and like not even talking to me? Hello?

Codependency is deep in this situation. You play the role Mama gives you. And you forget me. Your sister. And yes I am calling you out on my blog before the whole world, why? Well, 24 years of trying on my part, that is why? Because you all block me? Because you have not tried to understand me? You have judged me unstable? Well, hell ya! My family is not even treating me like family? Going on trips without me? I don’t expect much? But how in the hell will we know each other? Liz, you have so many kids, and you have all those parties, and I was the pastry chef at the Wild horse Saloon! I was trained in many of the best hotels in the nation. Like I could slam it out for you? Nope, you don’t even like me I guess? I painted your bathroom for god sake? Like that is sisterly? And you don’t even call me when you get a divorce? Hell, I can’t call you, I don’t have your number, or your address? You guys treat me as though I am some felon, which I am not.

And this party is not a party at all. In fact no one had a party for me? But I have made each of you things. Have you? No. And I have sent cards and tried to build a bridge, you dropped the ball. Its like fort knox, this family. And why? What is the deal? You don’t need another sister? Well, to bad, cuz you got one and you really never had the choice. So lets change this feedback loop, this holding pattern is getting in the way of progress. The progress is to merge into what we always have been. Family.

Thank you for diving deep with me.

And God Bless

I have let go

After a full year of processing and expressing penned up emotions held for 50+ years, I am letting go of my Bio Mom. Letting go means I am not going to email her, or bother her any longer. I am nervous, yes, cuz this body is strong and wants what it wants. But what I have seen in this year is this. My bio moms does not have any affection for me as a person, nor as a daughter. And that my Mom does. My Mama Jean that is. And it hard being adopted and maneuvering though all what folks say bout it? Yes, But what I saw was Mama Jean, steadfast and unmovable in her love and acceptance of me as her child, confused and trying to figure it out. I believe she has always known that, deep within, without words. AS I spoke the truths I was ashamed I had, I saw a bit of relief on her to finally have me say it out loud, for she could feel it. And she knows how much I love her, yes she does.

My Mama Linda, is the vessel God made me from. And Mama Jean was the one who wanted me, not Linda. She did not. And I must accept that. And in accepting that, I am no longer able to even consider her a Mom. For she is not. Sounds cold, maybe? To some? But it sounds practical to me. And my mind needs some rest from all that I toiled about before I told my truth, the truth all over this blog. And now that I have aired it all out. I see, Mama Linda blocked me, Mama Jean embraced me. That is huge….

And if truth can give me that? It was worth speaking it to obtain it. My mind is coming into an understanding of my Mama Jean and the fortitude it took to take me on, go through a messy divorce, deal with her best friend Andrea Gray, taking up with her husband and dealing with a town that shunned her for lack of understanding.  How she held onto me, despite the many suiters who would tell her to let me go. How she always was there for me, even when I was my meanest and most confused. I have a new appreciations for my Mother after letting this cat out of her bag. And for that I am grateful.

As the year is ended, and the moon has enter my sign of  Capricorn, I am hopeful. Mama Jean has seen my try to give a love that my Bio Mother did not earn, and she saw, that if my body could have, I would have given that to her. But now, that my truth is out, I can give it to her, for it set me free from thinking that woman cared for me. Her love can not hold a candle to Mama Jeans love, which is agape love, a love that goes beyond the physical. I am blessed to have had such a Mother. And am so grateful that now I can see that.

My prayer for you is that this messy blog will give you the courage to tell your truth, so you can get free too. Free to see who showed up as the angels they were? And how hard it is to love a child God did not make inside you. For that is true love. To love another child is Gods love, in human form, and I am blessed to have had such a love as that. And I am grateful to now see it.

I am not saying that my body will not ache for the woman who made me? yeah it will. It is by design, so I have a grief, but now that I have faced that grief, and asked it what it was a teaching me, I can now know, I will live on. Even though. A broken heart allows the light to shine through better than a closed one. I am grateful for this broken heart. And I am grateful for a woman in her 20’s who took me on, not knowing what the hell that meant, and she never backed down, thank you Mom.

Blessing to your year, as you speak your truth and own it, and set it free. The work is worth it. Its like mental house cleaning, it makes room for new ideas and perceptions to come through.

Thank you for diving deep with me.

The Magic of healing is in the mess..Faint not.


Being vulnerable is work. It is hard. We are naturally all protective of our inner world, and to expose it is so very scary. But this last year, I have expose the inner world of an adoptee. I exposed my wounds, my psychosis, my life as I grew up was rough to figure out with so many questions left unanswered for years. I could take it no more. My body wrenched from he pain that I held in for so long. I had reached capacity.. My subconscious packed with all kinds of shit I wondered and felt as a child. My body demanded a purge, it demanded that I fess up to the truth I held within for safety. Mine. Rejections makes you do strange things, and being raised as a private adoption meant that no one talked about it, least of all me. I was sure not going to go there growing up, I did not want to press my luck. My own Mama did not want me, I did not know why? But I did not want my new Mama to feel for one minute like I did, deep down.

And my body showed I was not doing well, it was very sick as a child. I spent many a day in Doctor Schapp’s office, while he tried to figure out what was going on with this little girl. Ear infections, bronchitis, rashes from what he did not know, but said he wanted to write a book about it. I had every childhood disease, and some I like so much, I did them again and again. Like the three day measles, I had them 7 times, yes, ridiculous, but my Mama Jean assures me that is correct. But I do feel grief can cause many illnesses, when a child is turned around like me. I had a very violent reaction to adoption, one that would color my world grey, and numb me for years. My head would be reeling for years, toiling, trying to figure it out. I become an observer of others lives, the ones that keep their kids. I watch everything, trying to learn how to be a good daughter to Mama Jean, and eventually Mama Linda, my biological Mom. They both are my inspirations.

Yes, Mama Linda is an inspiration to me, of course she is. People are just shocked that I write that or say that? They are puzzled by it, I should not care for her at all many think? Well, I tried that not caring stuff, and what I learned is this. You can’t do that, the body simply won’t let you and when you keep trying to do that it kind of breaks down. To try not to care about the woman who God made you from is like stupid, ignorant talk and just dumb. It shows me that many people have no idea wha it is really like to be what we call adopted. I am an orphan, yep, abandoned by the woman who I came from. straight up. Once you let that seep in, then we can go further.

Many people assume because I was so young, I had no idea that I was from another woman, but I KNOW, I was not from day one. From the day I was born and never smelled my Mother again, from he day I went home with another woman who did not act like her at all. I knew the difference and that I lost someone very special to me. For children do not judge there Mothers when born, they love them, they are where they come from. We learn to judge. And there is so much judgement I have had to listen to and refute. Yes, I had to stand up for my Mothers, both. People say many things around an orphan, that they do not to others. They seem to feel entitled to do so, like they need to correct the little girl who’s Mommy does not want her or some such nonsense. Let me correct you now.

Growing up in the 60’s was like growing in the dark. So much free love and no support for the products of that love. I have listened to preachers preach about sex and drugs and yet they are no better. Addictions are only a name. And many are addicted to the way they think, like a meth head is to his fix. And folks just think they know how I felt or needed to feel. Like hello? My life, my body, my experiences and my script. Don’t judge me for the life I lived, making it up as I went, without my bio Mom to guide me? I just had to wing it, and how it felt was like shit. It tore my heart out. I just didn’t care. Why? I tried to care, but when you do good, folks get jealous, and I did not want folks to feel less than because I was a success. So I hid. I hid my feelings of grief and pain and all of it concerning her.

But there come a time when God calls you higher and the weight of it does not let you rise. So you must lay it down. And it meant so much. You loved her with your heart alone, inside. And that is an energy, grief is an energy. It is a hole, you felt when she went, that no one else can fill. I built a beautiful room for Mama Jean, she has her own place with in me. But I have an empty room with no Mama in it. Only her memories to keep me company and she lives, so you can see that I want her to come to tea and we can talk, and share, maybe even cry together for the loss we both suffered.

But healing is messy you see. For God calls us back, to look again at it. And if we hold onto old thoughts and do not speak them out loud, they are like a vibrational holding pattern that keeps us where we do not want to be. So I spoke it, all that crap I held, and it did not make sense to anyone but me. When pain and grief and whatever we hold in comes back up, its not organized, ok? It just comes up like barf. I call it emotional flu, it just comes up and has to be let out. That seems to be the hardest things for us to do these days, most people want to make sense, and to be respected and to keep it together. But falling apart means we get to rebuild it. WE get to choose again. And now we know better, so we can do better, right?

I can do better, for sure. For now I know, that how I felt and feel is important, if only just to me. I have come into my own, and stand before you as I am. A wounded person as we all are. And my wound was from this crazy world and what they say Adoption is, and from what I loss, and from a love so deep, that it calls me back to her, with Mama Jean in my hand too. Two woman raised me, one made me, the other trained me. That is a miracle. And they should meet. For they are best friends, who raises another child, and is not a friend? The world judges, I do not, I only tell how I felt. It was hard for me. So hard to figure out. What is wrong with me? That my own Mommy did not want me? What did I do? Was I bad? Am I wrong? Am I messed uP? Its a mental tailspin I want to stop. No child should have to wonder such things. Adoptions cuts children off from their cheerleaders, and we need to be connected. I don’t know if my Mothers had been friends, maybe I would not have felt so. But we must begin to try to do better. My story can help you see, what was inside of me, could be inside of your child. So, ask the hard questions, let your children express themselves. For God sake, it is their Mother. Help them to love their Mama’s like my Mama Jean did me. Somehow she got through. Her love, has helped me love my Mama Linda, I may not like it, but I do love her.

Thank you for diving deep with me.

Happy New Year 2017, make it a year of truth, so you can be set free…….

I wish for us all to be seen as the gifts we all are from God to this world.