Email Sent...

This time I hit the right button

I did it.  I sent the email to my first mother.  I asked her to meet with me within the next year.  I put myself out there.  And you know what?  I feel good about it!  I realized (with the help of some amazing people) that it was something that I should do for myself.  So that I'll stop wondering if I didn't do everything I could.  I gave it one more go.  I gave it one last effort.  One final chance.  It was more about me than her.  I want to meet her.  And I will.  If I need to show up eventually, then I will.  I'm not saying that's going to happen tomorrow.  It may never happen.  But it's an option and I have it in my back pocket for when I'm ready.

My first parents have made it very clear to me that when it comes to our relationship(s), it's about them.  It's about their other daughters.  It's about their family unit.  I can have scraps when they are willing to give them to me.  I can hear stories about my sisters and my other relatives.  They'll answer the questions they feel like and ignore the other ones.  They'll email when they feel like it.  And they will do what they think is best for them.  I guess I can't really blame them.  They bought into the adoption myth that once they signed the paperwork I would go away forever, never to been seen or heard from again.  They bought into the myth that they would be able to move on with their lives as if I never happened, as if I don't exist.  But you see, that's the problem with the myth.  I was born.  I do exist.  And as a person, I'm not willing to lay down and play the good adoptee.  I have feelings and wants and needs as well, and as an adult, I have a say in how I conduct my life.  Which includes my biological family.  Not just my first parents, but the rest of them as well.

For a long time, I played their games.  I played by their rules.  I did what they expected of me.  I was the good adoptee.  I emailed when I should have.  I answered their questions about my life.  I let my first father get to know me as a daughter.  He's seen me.  He knows that I share similar quirks with my sisters.  He knows that I look like my first mother.  That we share mannerisms.  And he's even seen my hometown (if I could go back, I'd probably rethink that one).  I gave myself freely in this who experience because that's just the kind of person that I am.  I thought that eventually things would change.  Eventually things would turn around.  Eventually.  I'm tired of waiting for eventually.  So I'm going to push a little and see what happens.

If my first mother won't meet me, the world won't end.  I won't lose anything.  She doesn't email me anymore anyway.  She has almost no contact.  And my first father... well that relationship is reduced to a short email every other week.  When he feels like it.  That's it.  I used to love him.  He was a second dad to me.  He didn't raise me, but he was giving what felt like a great effort to get to know me.  I thought he cared about me.  Maybe he does.  He just cares about his life right now more.  So I have nothing to lose.  I'm moving on.  I'm healing.  And I'd rather get this over with.  So my email is sent.  Now I just have to wait and see what happens.