Go forth, and forget

21 Nov

I spent most of last night thinking about the responses everyone gave to me in regards to my birthmother. Many of you had good points. Some of you made me cry, because it made me realize that this entire process has hurt me more than I have ever admitted to myself.

My birthmother gave me up, years later searched for me, found me, and rejected me yet again.

I’d have to be pretty cold to think that wouldn’t fucking hurt. Because frankly, it does.

I don’t have a right to that anger though. I don’t have the right to believe for one second that she would have taken any place in my heart, or my life. I don’t have any right to expect or want from her. I have no rights to her.

When I first met her, my father took her into his office to talk to her alone. I’ve never found out what he told her, but in my mind I imagine it was something along the lines of “Do not break my daughter’s heart. It’s barely together as it is.”

What he didn’t realize is that it broke my heart to do the one thing I had to do-I needed to know who my people were, who my blood were.  It broke me to pieces to leave him alone and likely wondering that day. And it broke me to be so alone in the midst of all these people who wanted me, wanted to know me, only to discover I was nothing like them.

There’s a level in me that craves that acceptance, a place where, for all my talk of being the outsider, the freak, the weirdo who never got beat up only because of her sheer bulk, a place that wants the numbing stillness of being the same. I have never belonged. Being aware of my adoption from day one also made me vividly aware one thing-I am NOT like these people. I was thirsty for someone like me my entire life.

But these people, my mother, even my half sister who looked so much like I did as a child, they are not me. They never will be. They are a road, a diversion I never took, a place I could have been, someone with another name who died when my own parents found me, took me home, signed the papers for my new name. That girl on the first birth certificate-she no longer exists. She never really did. She’s a figment, as much as the person I once pretended to really be when lonely in my backyard, making stories up for a past. I was never a princess from another planet. I was never Patricia either.

Where ever this road takes me, however much contact I have with any of my family, I would never not find out. I needed to know where I was from. I needed to see the hands that bore me, the body that help me, cradled, for 9 months, the mother that would not be. But to see her holding my half sister, with all the love in the world in her eyes, love that will never ever burn for me-I cannot do this anymore. I’m spent. I know what I needed, and the realization is dawning that I don’t need them anymore.

Perhaps I never really did.

7 Responses to “Go forth, and forget”

  1. liprap November 21, 2006 at 12:38 pm #

    Hang in there, honey. The Dorf, Viv, and Ros will ALWAYS love you. We readers of your blog do, too.

    This DOES hurt. Bad. But now you do your best to carry on, which you do every day. Be well.

  2. Ms Sisyphus November 21, 2006 at 12:55 pm #

    I get it, I really do. I’ve been there. And in my case, felt even more the changeling at times because I have 4 brothers who *are* my parents’ children. I came last. And only because I was “the girl” through whom my mother could work out her own issues of mother loss. The daughter meant to complete her.

    I needed to know to. To see a face that looked like mine. To hear the story. To finally understand once and for all that I am neither the Kelly I was born as, nor solely the K that I was raised as. I am ME.

    But I was lucky. Difficult though the relationship often is, I had my mother there, backing me up. I never wanted the birth mother to love me; I’ve got enough of a mother already. In fact, I imagine my birth mother feels the same hurt and confusion about me that you feel about your birth mother.

    I think it’s healthy to let it go, Thor. To create your identity out who you are, not who you could have been or wanted to be. I’m sure it hurts like hell, but healing often does.

    And you *are* loved, and you *do* belong in the hearts of many.

  3. Kimberly November 21, 2006 at 1:25 pm #

    Anger is a natural part of being human. There is nothing wrong with being angry. I think we come to “feel” like being angry is something bad (apparently through childhood), when it’s not. It can be theraputic, it can help us to make the right decisions, it can guide us in life. So be damn angry! It’s okay.

  4. Missy November 21, 2006 at 4:27 pm #

    It’s obvious you’re well loved. And you satisfied your curiosity about your roots. And you seem to have burned out your anger, for the most part. I guess what I’m saying is it sounds like you’re finally ready to let it go.

  5. Eden November 22, 2006 at 1:28 am #

    I think you have a right to be angry. I used to feel the same way, like I didn’t have a right to have any kind of feeling about my birthmother (this was before I knew here). I realized that that was my adoptive mother talking. I’ve been sad, angry, happy, grateful, [insert emotion here] towards my birthmother (actually more the idea of her, since I didn’t know her).

    It’s okay to be angry at her, even hate her. I think you did have the right to get to know her and she made the decision (twice) not to know you, which cheated you not only out of establishing any kind of relationship (even an adversarial one) but of getting to make that choice for yourself.

    Fuck, did she ever miss out.

  6. thordora November 22, 2006 at 10:50 am #

    Thanks all..

    It’s something I still need to work through. I need to find some books-I usually read about stuff to help me focus-haven’t found anything helpful yet.

  7. Kat November 22, 2006 at 1:56 pm #

    I have troubled relationship with my parents. It’s worst with my father. He’s always been emotionally distant but since we became adults it’s like he’s washed his hands of us. That is except when he feels like being Grandpa. There have been several very important ocassions in my life that he has chosen to miss and it’s hurt.

    Each time I tell myself that I need to accept that this is all he wants from our relationship. To accept that boundary. Each time it still hurts a bit though and I get angry with myself for allowing myself to get hurt again. A friend though once told me something that has helped. “It really doesn’t matter if you have a “right” to feel angry, betrayed whatever. You do.” That’s the reality and until I deal with the reality of that feeling, it doesn’t go away no matter how much I tell myself that I shouldn’t be hurt anymore.

    Honestly, it sounds to me like you have some grieving to do. Grieving about the mom who had to leave you too soon and Grieving for the rejection you feel from you birth mother. The loss of what might have been is no less emotionally real

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