Chameleon

Had therapy tonight.  We've been actually dealing with a lot of my feelings about being adopted and growing up in the family that I was so lucky to have been taken in by bought by.  Tonight I talked about how hard it was not looking like the rest of my afamily.  I mean, the likeness between all of them is astounding..or maybe it just seemed that way because I didn't have any other frame of reference.  Holidays were hard because we were all in the same place, and the differences were glaringly obvious.  Their faces all were shockingly the same...and then there were my sister and I with our thick plastic BCG's and cheap thrift store clothes that never seemed to fit correctly...just didn't fit in. 

But I tried.  I became a master of disguises.  I said what was expected of me..smiled when it was appropriate...laughed at the jokes...listened while my cousins talked about the latest song on the radio or the newest television heart throb...and took on their opinions.  Because it was easier.  I pretended that my family wasn't "off".  That we really WERE one big happy family...that when we went home, the screaming and yelling and scary days and nights were just bad dreams.   Because it was easier.

I still listen to others to find out what the majority is thinking and then I just go along with the crowd.  I don't even know if I could say what I wanted or what I thought because I've never really forced myself to do that.  I am 36 years old and have no idea who I am.  I know the roles I play in my life...mother, daughter and sister to two different families, girlfriend to one, EX girlfriend to a few, employee, neighbor...but those really are just roles.  They aren't WHO I am on the inside.  They aren't my feelings or emotions.

Sometimes I feel like a blank slate...waiting for people to come to me and draw my life in for me.  But, like I told my therapist, I want to draw my OWN picture eventually.  It's terrifying though.

She said that hopefully someday soon I'll be able to figure out what I want to do...if it's Credit and Collections, then great (not likely).  If it's not, then what is it? 

I told her I've always wanted to write...she was very encouraged and asked me if I'd ever written anything.  I told her about this blog...and my other fluffy one.  Can't believe I told her about them, but I did.  She was so excited about it I thought she was going to jump out of her chair.  Truth be told, I'm a bit excited about it too.  I didn't have to think about it for one second.  The words, "I'd love to be a writer" just came out of my mouth. 

And so, the point of this rambling post is to say that I'm going to really try and focus (yeah, yeah, heard that before?) and just...write.  And write my own story...and draw my own life's picture.  And find some oasis in this world...for me.