Humbled

It's been a few months since I've blogged.  I had the best intentions to keep going through November, using the prompts at Lost Daughters to light my creative spark.  Alas, I didn't do that.  I stopped writing and I couldn't bring myself to come back to say, "Hey, sorry for ANOTHER long hiatus".

I came to a crossroads.  I began to think that maybe it was time to retire this blog and figure out something else to do.  I mean, I have a huge basket of yarn that I should be using to crochet...I have a Kindle Fire that is loaded with books that I am itching to read.  I have a ton of excuses. 

But then, something happened yesterday that changed my mind about packing up and getting the hell outta Dodge.

I received an email...from a stranger.  A stranger who seemed to know just what I needed to hear at just the right moment.

He had read the open letter written by an online friend and fellow adoptee...and it had moved him enough to write me.  Neither as an adopter..nor as an adoptee...but as a human being.  Truthfully, he'd thought I'd written the letter...which I was truly humbled by as I feel like I don't express myself nearly as well as my friend did.  But then he sent a second email, telling me that he realized after the fact that I hadn't written it but wanted to thank me anyway for my openness on my blog.

I responded...and thanked him for helping to renew my faith in humanity and my blog and the work that I want to do here. 

He let me know that he wants to share my blog with members of his church who have adopted children and who are thinking of adopting so they can get a clearer picture of what the other side of adoption looks like.

I was touched by his candor and his willingness to open himself up to me and I can only pray that I can do the same from now on.

Thank you newfound friend...from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you.

A Novel Idea ~ Part 2

The next few months passed by in a blur.  I am ashamed to say that the first note I wrote to Tabitha wasn’t the last.  Our mothers noticed that we weren’t hanging around after school and the most embarrassing day was one Sunday at church.  Tabitha’s mom saw our family at Coffee Hour after the service and came over to talk to us.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tabitha shooting daggers our way, wondering what was going on.

Well, apparently she wanted to ask how I was doing and then gave me a hug.  That did it.  The tears started again and she said, “I’m sorry.  She’s just…she’s just on Cloud Nine over junior high.   Give her time and she’ll come around.” 

She chitchatted with my parents and then walked back over to Tabitha and her sister.  When I glanced back over, they had left. 

The thing is, no matter how many times my mother told me that it wasn’t my fault…that it was Tabitha.   I knew she was wrong.

I mean, all you had to do was look at me.  Absolute wrong hairstyle, wrong clothes, ugly plastic glasses, stutter like you read about and I really couldn’t blame her.  I didn’t want to know me, didn’t want to BE me.   How could I expect anyone else to want to hang around me? 

It was a quiet life.  I went to school, dealt with the giggles, the stares, my locker being slammed on my hand every day when one of the boys decided to make me their scapegoat.  I dealt with always being picked last when it was time to break into groups during our classes.  And the worst was when the teachers noticed.  They would make one of the groups of three separate and would ask for a volunteer to work with me.  The dread on their faces said it all.  Some of them would talk to me after awhile during class but then I magically turned back into the joke when the bell rang.

Books were my escape.  I’d always make sure to bring one along to lunch so I could avoid eye contact.  Sometimes the tables would be so full that I’d have to humble myself and walk over to a group and ask if I could sit down.  More often than not, I’d hear “Sorry, it’s saved”…but I knew that was a lie.  I’d watch the table after I squeezed myself onto the end of another table and could see that no one else had sat down with them. 

My sister knew that I was hurting and would often seek me out on the couple of lunch periods we shared during the week and would tell me to come sit with her and her friends, but that was more humiliating than sitting alone. 

I suppose I could have gone to the office and said…what?  That I was being picked on?  This was before bullying was “a thing”.  My mother’s famous phrase that I shudder to think about now was “They only pick on you because they like you…it’s just harmless teasing.”

Yeah, that’s what she said about my father too.  What a crock.

A Novel Idea

“Here’s a bone for you.”

I felt like I’d been slapped across the face. Surely, Kevin hadn’t meant to throw the stuffed dog’s bone on my desk, right? Right?? I looked up at him and saw a derisive grin spreading across his face as the other kids sitting around us in English class realized what he’d done.

I shouldn’t have really been surprised. So far, seventh grade had been horrible. It had started on the very first day. I’d been so excited to go to the Junior/Senior regional high school with the kids I’d grown up with since kindergarten. We’d finally meet the students from the other small town that would be transitioning over from their elementary school too. New faces, new friends…so exciting!

A few of us had gone to my best friend Tabitha’s house a week before school started for a sleepover. We’d spent the night dancing and singing and talking about all the fun we’d have in Junior High. Tabitha and I had made plans to save a seat for each other if we got to our classes first.

The first day of school dawned crisp and cool. I got dressed in my jeans and my sister’s hand-me-down sweater and walked down to the bus stop with her. She was in eleventh grade and had told me that things would be radically different from elementary school but I brushed off her warning and hopped on the bus.

There wasn’t any time to find Tabitha once we got to school. I had to find my locker, find my homeroom and get dismissed to my first class…English. Finally! We had compared our schedules at the sleepover and had been relieved to find that we were in a lot of the same classes. I rushed for the classroom and saw that she was there first. I walked over to the empty chair next to her and started to put my book down on the desk.

“That seat is taken.”

“Hahaha…good one T..”, I said.

“No, really. That seat is taken.”

I looked over at her but she wasn’t looking back. She was staring at the front of the room. It was in that moment…that horrible, gut wrenching moment, that I realized what was happening. I slowly grabbed my book and turned towards the back of the room, found an empty desk in the back row and sat down. My eyes welled up with tears as I watched another one of our friends, Sarah, greet Tabitha and sit down next to her in what should have been my seat.

I stared at Tabitha for a bit…wondering what exactly was going on with her.  We’d been friends for several years.  Her mother was our Girl Scout leader and I’d spent hours at her house, playing out in her backyard with her and her little sister.  We attended the same church and were in the same Sunday School class.  Just two and a half months ago we were passing notes back and forth in sixth grade, proclaiming our status as BFF-4-Eva.  Now, she was sitting next to Sarah, talking and laughing with Sarah, Bethany and Jessica.  What would I do now?

The rest of the day passed much the same.  There were more classes, more teachers who outlined the year ahead for us.  And then lunch.  I sat by myself, with a clear view of Tabitha and her table of giggling girls.  I spent that lunch writing a letter to Tabitha.  If I could just say the right thing, she’d HAVE to be my friend again.  Or so I thought anyway.

In retrospect, the letter I wrote was pathetic.  I was pretty much begging her to talk to me..to be my friend.  Pleading with her to tell me what I’d done to make her turn her back on me.  I knew that we had Latin next period so I hurriedly finished the note, folded it carefully and left the cafeteria to find the classroom.

I stopped at my locker first to drop off some of the books I’d accumulated over the course of the morning and headed to class.  Tabitha was again sitting next to Sarah, whispering and laughing over something apparently hilarious.  I walked past her desk and dropped the note in front of her and headed to a desk in her row.  I watched her carefully as she unfolded the note.  She read it, handed it to Sarah who read it as well and gave it back with a snicker.  Tabitha stood up and with a flourish, dropped it in the trash at the front of the room.

Stings Like A Bee

I am in a book club.  My friend L, the sister of my high school chum that died in a car accident a year ago, enticed me to join this past winter.  I adore reading and while I was a bit hesitant at first...cue the stupid adoption-brain (will they like me or will I be an outsider?)...I actually am forming bonds with these women. 

On a side note, it might just be me but I'm always surprised when people remember my name when I've only seen them a few times.  I pride myself on remembering names very easily but again, it makes me happy when others do the same with me.  And the women in the book club know my name.

So, back to book club.  L knows most of my history now.  We've had long, indepth conversations about my life and hers.  I've made my opinions pretty clear on where I stand on the adoption issue. 

During our "meeting"  (really, we talk about the book for about fifteen minutes and then drink wine and eat the rest of the time..lol), L was talking about her friend's son.  He's apparently a terror...and L doesn't like to have him play with her daughter because he's so rough.  He slammed Em's hand in a door on their last playdate, on purpose, and L said "If that was my kid, I'd give him up for adoption!"

I couldn't help myself...

"That's not funny L", I blurted out angrily.

**crickets**

Then she said, "I'm sorry Christina...I really didn't mean it the way that sounded."

The rest of the women stared at me until I explained, "I'm adopted". 

I know for a fact that L didn't mean it to come out the way she said it...she's the kindest person I know and is now one of my closest friends.  But it still stings. 

Leap of Faith

Not sure if anyone remembers me blogging about the fallout with me and my best friend back in May of 2010 but at the time, it threw me into a tailspin.  I felt lost and abandoned and depressed...for months.  I hated that we'd both let things get so out of control and it hurt my heart deeply.

Last week I found her on FBook.  I vacillated between writing her or not writing...if I wrote her and she didn't respond, I'd be crushed...because even if she was to tell me to fuck off, at least then I'd really know that it was over and I could hopefully move on and stop thinking about her.

I ended up sending her a message on January 17th.  And then crossed my fingers.  And I waited...and waited...wishing for that red notification button to show up on my wall, telling me she'd written back.

It happened on Thursday.  She answered me.  And rather than telling me to fuck off, she told me that she'd missed me too.  Our friendship will never be the same...we both agree on that.  We have both changed tremendously since then.  I like to think I've gotten stronger as a person, and from the sounds of it, so has she.

We've made tentative plans to get together for a face to face meeting next weekend.  I'm nervous...but hopeful.

Connections

I went out to dinner tonight with my friend Brian's sister, L (I won't use her first name here since she actually has the link to this blog and I haven't asked permission to use her name yet).  It was amazing...and it was the best dinner out I've had in a long time.  We talked about Brian, and her daughter and my kids...and we vented about our crazy mothers..lol..yup, she's got one too. 

It felt good to talk and to laugh and to listen...and to realize that sometimes out of tragedy, good things can happen.  I've found a new friend.

We were just talking about that on FBook..how odd it is that we have so much in common.  I remember L from our school bus riding days...but we never spoke back then.  I only knew her as Brian's little sister, not as a "real person", and she knew me as the quiet girl on the bus.  Now though, she's real, and I'm not as quiet and we're becoming friends.  Truthfully, I'm not great at picking friends...usually I pick wrong and am hurt in the end, but I can honestly say, I think this time, my "Friend Picker" finally fixed the glitches and I'm on the right track.

Friends

The service for my friend Brian was beautiful.  It was held at the mountain in the next town over from where we grew up.  They had a huge tent set up at the base of the mountain and it was standing room only.  Saw many of my teachers from high school and even elementary school...and many friends and classmates.  He left quite a mark on the world...one that won't soon be erased.

I'd gone to the celebration of Brian's life with my friends, Tracy and Tiffany.  We were talking about how our group of friends was such a ragtag bunch.  Tiffany said that she'd been thinking about it and realized that what bonded us together was the fact that most of our parents were highly dysfunctional..lol.  Tracy's mom died when we were 15 from cancer she'd had for several years and her dad had remarried within a year to a woman that was really difficult.  Tiffany's dad was an alcoholic and her mother was in denial.   Our friend Shannen's dad was a state cop and was very strict...heaven help us if we beeped our car horns in the driveway for Shannen...oy. My parents...well, you all know my story.   And nearly all of our other friends had issues at home as well. 

I think Tiff was right.  But even with our individual issues, we were a tight group..fiercely loyal...and to lose one of the gang just feels wrong. 

Time for wine.

Resting In Pieces

The stress of the past few days has finally caught up with me.  I am in the beginning stages of a horrible head cold.  Never fails that if I’m dealing with a lot, I get sick.

It started Friday with my blowout with K, my ex’s wife.  Admittedly, not my finest moment.

Saturday was actually wonderful…went out with Steven for our 8^th anniversary to a really nice restaurant.  But that was kind of stressful too because even though I told myself I was being an idiot, I had hoped that it would have been “THE” night for a proposal.  No go.  But it was amazing to reconnect as a couple and the food was yumtastic.  I’ve had people tell me that maybe I need to propose to him…but that’s just not how I envision things to go.  And so, I wait.  Usually patiently, but sometimes, not so much.

Sunday was laid back…spent a couple hours with Maddie at my mom’s pool then watched a movie with Steven.

Yesterday, I picked up Chase from K again and aside from me asking her how things went with a response of “Fine” and a side of her infamous stink eye on the side, I was outta there.  Got home and was reading FBook and almost threw up.  One of my good friends from Kindergarten through high school died in a car accident while on vacation in Germany.  He was the first friend from school to die and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

Makes your own mortality come zooming to the forefront of your mind. 

I immediately called two other friends that I’ve stayed in contact with since school and had to deliver the news to them because I didn’t want them to see it on FBook first.  What comforted me was telling them both at the end of the calls that I love them…and hearing them say it in return.  We may not be invincible beings, but we are human beings and feeling love was something I really needed last night.

And so, to Brian, rest in peace my friend.  You were an amazing person and I will never forget you.  We spent many a car ride home from school and Peer Leadership meetings blasting the radio, singing along to Elton John and Neil Diamond at the top of our lungs.   You were the person who coined my nickname “Steener”, said in the funny voice of our Physics teacher.  You were the one who helped me pass Geometry in our sophmore year.  You were the one who was unafraid to get up in front of the entire school and lip sync to Copacabana, dressed like Barry Manilow.  You were brilliant in life..and you are brilliant in death.

Pity, Party of One..Your Table's Ready

Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me. Well I mean, aside from the obvious adoptee issues I struggle with on a daily basis. I told you all about how my best friend had "broke it off with me" back in May. And I guess I thought, hey, I don't need her. I have plenty of other friends to keep me busy!


Lie. The truth is, I don't have plenty of other friends to keep me occupied. The only people who call my cell phone are my boyfriend, my ex (my daughter's dad), my amom and my nsister. Everyone else just Facebooks me, or..it seems like…can't be bothered. This past weekend, both my kids were essentially gone from Friday night until Sunday night. And while it was relaxing…I was lonely. Very lonely. Steven was off doing some errands and helping one of his buddies for a couple hours on Saturday and I just sat on the couch for those two hours, wishing I had someone to call. Someone who I could go visit and have a cup of coffee with. A "go to" person, you know?

Maybe I've done this to myself. But, on the advice of my therapist, I HAVE been trying to be the kind of friend that I'd want to have. And, it's not working. Do I realize I'm whining? Yep. I guess I just need to whine and feel sorry for myself before I can truly get over it. It just sucks.

That's not to say that I don't appreciate all of you. That I don't know that you are all my friends too. You're all just so far away…and while I desperately wish I could, I can't just call one of you up and say, "Hey, want to meet for coffee?". I have work friends…but they live close to my job and that's an hour away. On the rare weekends that I could get away for a night for girls' time…they are usually busy. I spent the bulk of my growing up years being alone and learning to deal with it but now that I've experienced what it felt like to have a best friend, I long for that again.

Complimentary

The above quote is attributed to Judy Garland.

I've never done well with compliments.  Never.  I've always figured that people are just being nice when they tell me I'm pretty..or that I am intelligent...they can't mean it...not about me.  I'm the dumpy chick who never has the right clothes..or the right haircut.  I'm the girl who had the dogbone thrown at her in 7th grade...

Today though, I received a compliment that literally changed my perception of myself.  Not just any compliment though...one of the most touching, beautiful compliments I've ever heard.  I'm not quite sure if my friend Jen knows how much it meant to me...and I can't really express my emotions about it properly without sounding like a buffoon..but suffice to say, she had me crying at work.  I love you Jen.

She told me that she "loves my realness".  That I'm true to myself. 

Wow.  Me??

I've been called many things...but real is not one of them. 

I spent my entire life being something I wasn't...happy.  I pretended that things were wonderful growing up because that was what was expected of me.  I was a fraud. 

I'm learning how to speak up for myself.  I DO have feelings that I can share safely.  No one can take those emotions and feelings away from me.  I own them.  And rather than stifling them down..and locking them away in the treasure chest of my heart, I am opening Pandora's box and letting them be free.

It's still a work in progress..this journey to "realness".  But the fact that Jen sees that in me means that I'm doing something right.

So, thank you Jen...for helping me to believe in myself. 

Rude Awakening

So, I don't agree with international adoption...or domestic adoption. But I've always been semi-okay with foster-to-adopt. I thought that "those kids" needed families more than the kids being ripped away from their homelands and natural families.

But really, what is the difference? The children in foster care have families too. Families that they were taken from in much the same way that the international and domestic adoptees were taken from.

One of my online friends called out a bunch of us on it today. She was in foster care and made me realize how very hurtful our words were.

Wow. I really feel awful.

Out of Sorts

Been feeling out of it for a few days. Just a general sense of "blah". I just can't seem to pull myself out of this funk..and it's really not anything specific that I can put my finger on that's causing me this angst.

I got a text message from one of my friends last night that I told her I hadn't gotten til this morning, thus the reason I hadn't responded..but the truth was, I'd started crying after I read it and couldn’t text back. She knows the whole story…she's read this blog.

Thx 4 being my friend!
I love you..things will get better 4 u, I promise :)

In my head, I know that eventually things WILL get better…but right now, in the middle of it, my heart is broken for the little girl I once was and it's hard to tell HER that it will get better.

I think I might have to take a break from commenting on other's blogs…or posts on forums. I just don't feel like it's healthy right now for me to get upset at perfect strangers for doing what they feel best for themselves….regardless of how sad it makes me for the adoptees who might one day end up like me. Waiting eagerly for the next email from my natural mom…waiting for the phone call from my sister…and then hearing about how they (nmom, nsis and nbrother) all hung out the other day. And while I recognize that it's easy for them to all get together since they live in the same general area, it still hurts my heart that I still feel like I don't fit in.

Where do I belong?

The other day in therapy, I used the following analogy to describe how I'm feeling about my reunion. It's like I'm standing on the ground and all of a sudden this huge crack opened up in the earth beneath my feet. One foot is on the side with my adoptive family..and the other is on the side with my natural family. I feel like I have to make a choice on which side to jump to and my "grateful" adoptee side is saying, "Adoptive side! Adoptive side!" but the "fuck you for destroying my self-esteem" adoptee side is saying, "Natural side! Natural side!".

Maybe I don't have to make the choice…but sometimes I think it'd be easier if I did.

Rambling

So now, not only do I have to go to the cemetery on Saturday to help with planting new flowers for the fall, my a-mother wants my family (boyfriend and kids) and my sister's family (husband and kids) to go out to dinner that night in remembrance of my father. I feel sick to my stomach and wish I could tell her that I don't feel up to it, but I haven't even told her I'm back in therapy. Fuck.

I'm anxious about tonight. I know it's only the second session but I'm really scared about what this is all going to dredge up in my mind and heart. I know that I'm doing the right thing...so, why is it so hard?? Why can't I just open up my mouth and verbally vomit all the things I'm writing here? I get so frustrated with myself...

And to make things worse, I think I hurt one of my dearest friends. He's technically my ex...my very first boyfriend..but we're still in touch. I sent him the link to this blog because he'd seen on my other blog that I had talked about therapy and wanted to make sure I was alright. So, I sent the link...and he got worried that some of the things I'd said about my lousy taste in men pertained to him. Let me just state for the record, especially if he's reading this, that NOTHING I said before, or will say again, about my choices in men have anything to do with the relationship we had. He was actually someone that I wanted to be with for a long time..but my issues got in the way and I was too clingy. I recognize that now...and I recognize WHY I was like that. I didn't want to be abandoned again..and so, I sabotaged myself by thinking that if I was this "perfect" person, he'd never leave. It backfired...and I don't blame him for going...I had a lot of growing up to do..clearly I still do. I'll always cherish his friendship and I apologize to him now for dragging him into this without thinking about his feelings.

Phew.