You are going to grow up. You are going to have questions. I have no doubt that the time in your life will come.
If you are anything like me or your father, you will get to the bottom of it; But I don’t want you to hide in the bushes, dressed in camouflage, waiting to uncover your answers.
I want you to be so secure in your upbringing that you confidently ask any question you have about your Custom Artists and their Masterpiece any time your soul yearns for the smallest gem of information.
Sure, it may feel scary, foreign, or weird. You may even feel displaced. Maybe even misplaced.
I hope you never feel that way. I know exactly where I put you. I’ll know where to find you.
Yet, I can’t tell you how to feel about this. Your emotions are yours to create and cradle. Know that my plan is for you to be able to discuss where you came from without ever feeling bad for it. You were meant to be.
As a young girl, knowing I was adopted was as normal to me as riding my roller-skates through the local grocery store. That means as normal as breathing or wearing pigtails in my hair. After finding out I was adopted (at approximately 6 years old) it became a part of me. My dad told me it meant I was ‘special’ after a nosey neighbor at the pool asked why I did not look like my family.
I was completely delighted with that response.
I am special.
About three years later, I found myself sitting Indian style in my fourth grade classroom; One piece of a seventeen part human circle. We took turns reading a paragraph at a time as we learned about different kinds of families.
“Blended. Single. Extended. Biological. Adopted”
I knew that word. That word had defined me for the last three years. As a classmate finished the paragraph, I now had all the pieces of the puzzle that I never even realized I’d been putting together. I was satisfied. I was proud.
The very thing I thought to myself after the adoption section was: “Well now it all makes sense. I look nothing like the rest of my family. Which is fine.”
In fact, I embrace it.
First off, I am a Leo. We crave the spotlight, shaking our long manes proudly in the bursting sun at any moment possible. Second, I loved who I was and who I am. My entire family is tall, blonde non-curly hair, blue or green eyes, fair skin, and thin. Then there is me: Short (not even 5 foot), olive skin, brown-curly hair, and a muscular build (what I call it on a good day). Looking different did not change the fact that I knew I belonged with my family. I still do.
The only question I ever had that actually bothered and still to this does: Does she think about me on my birthday?
I am going to assume she does. I mean, how could she not? The day I entered the world was the day we met. I know she held me. The nurses even told my parents that she was so brave to just say goodbye and never look back.
I respect her decision to keep the adoption closed. If that is what she thought was best, I trust her.
This is where she and I differ. I cannot meet you and let you loose to the world, knowing I will never see you again.
I must know there was will be no goodbye, just ‘see you later’.
When you wonder if I think about you, know I never stop. I love you.