Words, Myths and Thoughts

“I think you handled it . . . FAIRLY well. . . I didn’t say, EXTREMELY well, but . . . FAIRLY well.”

She chose her words carefully, but they still managed to slap me in the face repeatedly, although thankfully they were quick slaps by one of my favorite cartoon characters.

Still, they stung more than I expected because in my mind each time a challenge had arisen over the last 20 years, I had channeled my inner Katharine Hepburn; classy, poised, and untouched by it all.

Perhaps these are just coping mechanisms all adopted children possess trying to walk peacefully in the sometimes landmine of life in the adoption triad.

Adoption, though a neutral word in theory is often a charged and taboo subject that unknowingly can redefine everything you thought to be true about yourself and the world around you in the course of one phone call.

It is a topic as political as immunizations and Israel with everyone jumping to broad generalizations, siding with ‘their team’ and demonizing 'the others' almost immediately before any real facts or time is spent smashing the stereotypes and myths surrounding all of the players.

As my mother left, I could not help but wonder who we all might have been had we not been through the experience.

I wondered how despite her pain, she had done her best to support me when my birth family found me, and I pondered my other mother’s joy of being a part of my life now, and imagined her guilt of having missed 18 years knowing me.

I thought about each of my siblings and how we had rediscovered ourselves through each other, and I paused, wondering how many revisions of the story will surface before the time comes for me to explain to my son why I have two mothers.

I pray that one day he will see the benefit of having a Nonnie, Bubbe, Nana, Baba, and Granny to love him and drive him crazy at the same time.  I hope that he will be wise enough not to judge any of us for the road we have had to travel to learn that the word family, can mean many different things, and that in the end, we are all connected.

We all have moments or situations in our lives that challenge us, yet once we are able to look back from the ‘other side’, (again the skills of disassociating can be so helpful) we realize that our greatest challenges always have the capacity to leave us with the biggest gifts if we choose that outcome.

Thankfully, after years spent living as a victim, questioning all that I knew to be true, bridging the gap between the person I thought I was and the person I actually became in the process, and wondering why my life lessons seemed to be so different than those around me, I found my way to a new and better place that allowed me to rewrite my past and discover that we all struggle with these same universal issues no matter what catalyst or life story they present themselves through.

While I will admit on some days, the memories of hearing others say "How does it feel to know that your mother did not want you", and "Do you know who your REAL mom is?" still rear their annoying little heads, these days become fewer and more far between.

Just in case, on the days that I need it, I have a fairy princess pink hammer and a diamond tiara in my closet that give me the strength to smack those thoughts down.

I also remind myself daily through scribbled posted notes, journaling, and hopefully just before I yell at my husband, that there is real power in my words, myths and thoughts.

And though there are many things in my hectic life that I cannot control, I have learned that I always have control over these three.