Missing Branches

My "Branch"

If you've been following along, you know that I've been doing a lot of research on Ancestry.com these days.  I got an account about a year ago and I've kept up my membership.  I've had a few people ask me why I keep up the membership.  After all, didn't I find my information already?  The membership doesn't keep the tree, it just allows you access to search the records.  If I cancelled my membership, I'd still keep my tree and everything that's in it right now.  The answer to that question is because new stuff comes up all the time.  I'm always amazed when new leaves appear.  I go through my trees (I have four) all the time and look for new information.  Sometimes there is, and sometimes there isn't.  The newest thing for me is that a lot more people are joining the site so there are more trees to compare mine too.  That's how I found my most recent discovery and was able to trace back my paternal grandmother.  It was pretty amazing actually.

One of my paternal aunts made her tree public, as did one of my paternal cousins.  This is what lead to my history lesson that lead me back to 1419 in France.  How cool is that?  Anyway, I was able to figure out who was who on her public tree.  Anyone that's still alive is marked private (but you can tell their gender), but it wasn't too hard to figure it out due to my first father's family situation (which is different compared to the cookie cutter family picture we imagine when we tend to think of "family").  Anyway, I wasn't listed.  My aunt doesn't know I exist, so it was a natural thing.  Yet, it still shook me.  I'm not sure why it did.  But there it was.  Proof that they don't know about me and don't acknowledge the girl they don't know about.  It was an inaccuracy they won't know about for a while longer.  And it was on paper.  I guess before, it was all theoretical.  This time, I have proof.  Hmm.

I'm the missing branch on their family tree.  This naturally got me to thinking more about it.  I did trace things pretty far back.  The further back I went, the more chance that something wasn't quite right with the dates or the names.  Names slowly changed over time.  Letters were dropped and added.  First names were changed to make them less ethnic.  It's not a new practice, but interesting to see in action.  I wondered how many missing branches there could be.  How many adoptees in the family could be floating around out there?

I couldn't help but think that maybe someday, I'll turn into a full blown branch of the family tree.  I could go on to have children and they will have an accurate tree.  That's one of my major reasons for doing all of this.  I want my children to have what I never did.  I plan on having a family tree in any future children's baby books.  Rudy has one in his, and I want that for any future children I may have.  In theory, I would have children who would go on to have children, who would have children etc.  That's just how life continues on.  And should my branch continue to grow, I have to fight to make sure that the information stays accurate.  Public records will show be as the daughter of my mom and the Grinch, not SinginInTheRain and NeverTooLate.

My aunt's didn't contain me.  It really has me thinking a lot about missing branches.  I think about all my fellow adoptees who do not yet have their answers.  I've been very lucky to learn my truth, and my family will know that truth eventually.  Right now I'm waiting for my sisters to grow up a bit, but my tree will go public eventually.  And perhaps my aunt or my cousin will start asking questions when they realize that there's another tree out there, only that one has three girls listed as children of their youngest brother/uncle and sister-in-law.  I have a feeling that's how I will probably come out in my family.  It's my way of not breaking the promise I foolishly made not to contact anyone else in my family.  I wouldn't be contacting them, just leaving myself open to be found.  My sister turns 18 next month... Who knows?

I Like Writing

I was at lunch the other day and someone started talking about the importance of writing.  We were discussing college classes and how even computer people have to take English classes and do lots of writing.  Bet you didn't know that engineers are expected to be writers, did you?  Anyway, it got me thinking about my own writing and all the writing I do.  I do a lot of writing here.  Some posts are short, some are long, but there's a post (almost) everyday.  And you know what?  It's a lot easier now than it used to be.  I look back at some of the earlier posts and see how far I've come.  It's a great exercise and I'm really enjoying it.

This isn't my only blog either.  I have a blog that for now is private about my relationship with Rudy.  It's private because I want to make it look awesome before I give out the address and I'm still trying to figure out what to do with it.  It's a personal blog that I'm going to be sharing with my family and friends but I'm not sure if anyone really wants to read it.  In actuality, it's more for just the two of us as a chronicle of our relationship so we'll have the memories someday (like a live scrapbook that's always being added to).  So even though I don't write there everyday, it's a completely different experience to write for myself in the future.  If that makes sense.

I also started a super private blog.  I've decided to let the sister thing go for now.  But because I'm me, I can't really let anything go.  So I've started a super private blog where I'm writing them letters everyday.  Sometimes I write about me and my history, sometimes I write advice I wish I could give them.  I don't ever write about our parents.  Some posts are pictures I want to share with them.  Sometimes I just post a quote.  But everyday there's something there.  They might never see the blog.  It's more for me to feel like I'm doing something.  If we do get in touch, I can either give them access or I can chose from my letters and send a few to them.  We'll see.

That's a lot of writing.  Lots and lots of writing.  I'm glad I have the time now.  I don't think I always will.  So I'm going to keep writing as much as I can right now and keep going for as long as I can.  And because I'm in the habit of writing everyday, I hope that when things get crazy again (and we all know they will), I'll still be able to write and keep it up.

Plus all this writing means that my typing has gotten a lot faster.  Which is amazing.  My goal is to get up to 75 WPM by the end of the winter.  I can do it.  I'm floating around 72 right now.  Hehe!

The Darker Side of Reunion

Sometimes people tend to forget that there were unintended consequences for me when I entered into reunion.  Obviously being adopted in the first place had some major consequences (my name, identity, family, friends, history, etc).  But my reunion sparked it's own set of consequences, some of which I think its easy not to think about. (Note: this is about my reunion. These are my consequences.  Not all reunions are like this)

For starters, I opened up to my family about my reunion.  It started with my parents and my sister.  My adoptive parents at first were supportive, but it's strained our relationship.  I've noticed that I've been treated differently since I told them I had found my biological family.  The Grinch felt betrayed.  My mom was hurt I hadn't included her in the search.  Both of them struggled with what my reunion meant to them, and to me.  They both worried about me, knowing the back-story that I didn't.  And my sister seemed OK at first, and then became jealous of both my sisters (just the fact that she had to share me with two people I've never met) and my reunion in general.  We went from being close to barely speaking and borderline hating each other.  She's finally starting to come around, but it's been a rough few years and I've had to get through them without my sister.

As I opened up to my extended family, they were supportive.  They still are.  But it's not something that they understand or really want to.  It's not discussed.  Things do get a bit more tense.  I do get treated a little bit differently.  And I notice.  Or maybe it's just my perception that's changed.  Maybe it isn't them, maybe it's me who treats things differently.  Either way, it's a consequence of my reunion.  While still close to my family, I feel like I'm on the outside looking in all the time, rather than just every once and a while like when I was a kid.

My reunion changed my relationship with Rudy.  Rather than being able to focus on us, I've had to spend a lot more time focusing on myself.  More time than I'd like.  While I know that it's better for us in the long run if I deal with this now, it's frustrating sometimes to spend so much time and energy on my reunion.  I've invested a lot of my life in these relationships that are still secret on their end.  And that's a lot to handle.  I'm so fortunate to have a supportive boyfriend.  And he's been amazing.  But I would still much rather spend the time I've spent on two failed reunions with my boyfriend and other friends.

There are a lot of positives too.  I don't want to discredit them.  I've met some fantastic people.  I've been inspired by the stories I've read.  I better understand myself, and I don't feel so alone.  Knowing my truth and my history has been an amazing things.  Before all this started two years ago, I had no idea where I came from.  I was ashamed of a history I didn't know.  I didn't know who I looked like.  I didn't know my own birth story.  I felt like I didn't know who I was as a person.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  I would search and contact all over again if I had the choice knowing what I know now.  I wouldn't hesitate.

But overall, there were a lot of things that this reunion has changed in my life because I was open about it.  I took a chance in opening up about it.  I'm glad that I did, but I think that often people forget that when an adoptee opens up about a reunion to adoptive family members and others, it can be a huge challenge and things do change.  It affects a lot of different relationships and it takes a long time to process.  Adoption reunion isn't always rainbows and butterflies.  Sometimes there is a darker side of reunion that gets glossed over.

So it's something to consider.  Something to keep in mind.  Adoption doesn't just affect the adoptee, adoptive parents, and first parents.  It affects extended families, friends, and others.  It affects future spouses, and future children.  And while being open is in my honest opinion the best way to handle things, it doesn't mean that it's always a walk in the park.  For me, I cared enough about my first parents to be open about our relationship and to take the negative consequences with the positive ones.  C'est la vie.

Got My Email (Finally)

Well, I'm please to report that I got my email.  And I'm also pleased to report that I did not go crazy and it was not at all what I expected.  For starters, my first father apologized for not getting back to me sooner.  He's not mad at me.  And he said that he understands and gets why I feel that way.  He's happy that we can still email.  He's going to let me know when things are going to move forward but he's not going to bring it up until he knows for sure next time (so we avoid the whole Thanksgiving thing).

So after me freaking out and thinking he hated me, it turns out he just needed some extra time to email me.  I wish he had sent that last week.  It would have made things so much easier on me.  And would have eliminated a week of major stress and serious sleep deprivation.

So I guess we're going to email each other like we used to in the beginning.  It's a major step backwards, but its something.  I'll still roughly know what's going on.  I can look forward to the emails.  I'll still be in the back of his mind and I won't be going away anytime soon.  I'm making the assumption (which can be bad) that the squeaky wheel gets the grease.  Eventually they have to be more open about me.  And they can't ignore me if at least one of them is getting an email from me every week.

I want to know what's going on.  It's hard to explain.  But I guess if I had to try, I would say that I have a feeling that eventually, they are going to tell my sisters.  I don't think it's going to be anytime soon.  I wouldn't be surprised if it's not ten or so years down the line.  I have a feeling that I'll snap long before then.  So what we are left with is that it's going to take a while.

Now is not a good time for me.  This was figured out Thanksgiving.  And who knows what's going to happen next?  I have to believe that if it really wasn't a good time for me, I could speak up about it.  They could still tell my sisters, but they could ask that I be given some space before my sisters contact me if that's what they want. Because reunions are completely and totally overwhelming.  And all consuming.  No matter what.  Even when prepared, even when you are the one initiating it, it's still something that you lose control over.  Or at least I do. It took me a solid two months with each parent for the world to even feel like it wasn't spinning so much.  Crazy scary.  I couldn't sleep, I could eat, and I neglected my friends, family, boyfriend, everything.  And that's OK if I'm in a place where I can better handle things.  And if my life doesn't totally suck, then I can handle the rejection better.

Right now, I'm in a so-so place.  My mother is doing very well.  I'm adjusting.  I'm grieving, but it's going a lot better.  Rudy and I worked out a lot.  So things are better between us.  And things are getting better living at home.  With my sister home, it won't be long before I'm making plans, but I have a rough idea already that includes me looking for a new apartment in two months.  So that's OK too.

But I know that I have some major life changes up the road.  For starters, a new apartment.  Next, Rudy and I are talking about taking a step forward in our relationship which is going to reek major havoc on my life (in a very good and positive way).  And I have no idea how long things are going to stay like this with my mom.  That could change at anytime.  So I wouldn't want my first parents to tell my sisters about me right before a major event.  Or during a major change.  Or at least I'd want to have an idea that it was coming to mentally prepare myself.

Then again, I could be worrying about nothing.  Seriously.  Probably never going to happen.  But you never know.  So I'm preparing for the worst, but still hoping for the best.  And that means emailing my first father every now and then.  We'll see where this one goes.

Being Busy Isn't Helping

I'm being buried alive in paperwork!  My company updates its training records every few years and this is one of those years.  Because I'm the new girl, I have a lot to update.  So guess who's reading hundreds of pages of procedures?  You're looking at her!

It's also self-evaluation time.  My mother used to go crazy when she had to do her self-evaluation.  Mine isn't as complicated as hers.  Plus it really helps that I type all day long so I crank out paragraphs like it's nothing.  But it's still stressful trying to figure out the best way to sell myself, the girl who's only been there for a few months and still trying to figure out where all the bathrooms are (to be fair, this building is MASSIVE.  It's a half a mile long.  Literally).

One good thing about all this paperwork is that it's taking my mind off of other things.  And I've been pretty busy at home too.  My first father hasn't emailed me back yet.  Which is fine.  I shouldn't expect him to.  After all, I did change things up.  I had every right to.  I was justified.  But that still doesn't mean that he's not going to be hurt by it.  So I have to give him time to deal with it.  And I honestly don't know what's going on in his life.  So there could be a lot going on that I don't know about.  So that could be holding up his response.

I got some new furniture for my bedroom.  It's been a long time coming.  My clothes have literally been stacked on the floor in piles for about two months because I have no place to put them after the Grinch requested my old dresser for the guest bedroom.  I finally got my new dresser but that means that I have to organize everything again.  Joy.  Oh well!  Something to do!

I'm working on a few Valentine's Day surprises for Rudy.  He's been a bit stressed out lately and I want to give him a pick me up.  Part of his gift is here already but the other part needs to be ordered far in advance.  And it's going to take a pretty significant time to get to my house.  So my goal is to be finished by Friday so I don't have to worry about it.

If I can keep busy, maybe I won't check my email as much.  Maybe I won't feel the sting of rejection, which really makes no sense seeing as I want to end things, every time there is no email.  Really, I shouldn't feel this way.  But I do.  There's a part of me, a stupid part, that desperately wants him to write back and say that he's sorry and I'm right and I'm not going to be a secret anymore.  Not going to happen.  Not in a million years.  I know this.  But I still hope.  It's a huge flaw...

So here's to hoping that today will bring a change.  That today he'll get back to me and let me know that he at least doesn't hate me.  It shouldn't matter to me.  I shouldn't care about what other people think.  He didn't raise me and he made it perfectly clear that while I'm his daughter, I don't matter as much as his other daughters.  I'm not on equal footing as them because he chose not to raise me.  So what he thinks of me shouldn't matter.  But somehow it does.  (Note to self: Work on that)

The Ground Isn't Shaking As Much

I feel better about things.  I made my decision.  The ball is no longer in my court when it comes to reunion at this moment.  While I love being in control, I also hate the stress.  I don't like wondering what I should do and trying to make up my mind.  I forget sometimes how much power I have or that really it can be up to me.  So it's been stressful because I told my first father I'd think about what I wanted going forward and I'd get back to him.

Now that I've responded, I feel a huge weight off my shoulders.  I don't know how he's going to take my response to all of this.  I have a very good guess.  I can see him saying that he either just wants to email or nothing at all.  I don't see him wanting to text anymore if I won't abide by his new contact rules.  So I can see things continuing as just emails for now.  Or not at all.  We'll see.  I'm surprisingly OK with things.  Or I will be once I hear back from him.  We've now passed his normal "I'm writing you a response" time.  As in normally he would have emailed me back at this point.  But I guess I can see why he hasn't.  I took some time to think things through.  So I think he's probably doing the same.  That or he doesn't want to put the final nail in the coffin.  But feels like he has to.  Stinks being the one who has to end things.  But I'll get there.  I'm getting there.  One small step at a time.

We got amazing news about my mom last week.  Her new scans are better than ever.  I'm really happy about how things have been going lately with my mom.  She's doing better.  So much better in fact.  For the first time in months I have hope.  I know things won't stay like this forever.  Her cancer isn't curable.  But it feels like this current treatment is buying her a lot of time, time we didn't think we'd have.  So I'll take it.

My sister is starting to come around.  We were talking about a hypothetical situation (I got into an argument with an aunt over a hypothetical situation and I was telling my sister about the ridiculousness of it all) when she asked about my first father.  She just wanted to know how things were going.  It was a simple question, I gave an honest answer.  I asked her if she ever thought about looking and when she answered sometimes, I offered her help if she ever wanted it.  Then we moved on to a different topic.  It's a small step, but a step none the less.  I'll take what I can get.

I keep telling myself that things have to be bad sometimes for the good things to seem extra special.  That makes a lot of sense when I say it in my head anyway...

Secret Relationship

I have an aunt who always has a quote up her sleeve.  It doesn't matter what the situation, she always has a quote that fits and gives good advice.  She's the aunt I call when I'm having a bad day because she picks me back up again.  She's been so good to me the last few months, becoming like a second mother to me as I've struggled with my own mother not being there for me due to her illness.  And she's also the first person in my family outside of my parents I told about my reunion.  She was so supportive.  But she didn't like the situation I was in.  The reason I know this?  Some well meaning quotes were left where I could see them.  Gifts turned into packets of quotes she thought I would like.  When she knew I'd be visiting, she'd leave out scraps of paper where I could see them.  Subtle?  No.  Effective?  Yes.  The one that clearly spoke to me was:

If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

And you know what?  That's a true story.  My secret relationship with my first father feels wrong.  It feels like I'm a little kid with my hand caught in the cookie jar.  I feel like the other woman, which I can guarantee you is the oddest feeling when you're talking about your father.  I deserve better than that.

The thing is, I'm an adult.  I may not feel that way sometimes, but I've been an adult for a while.  I make my own decisions and I don't need my first parents permission to do anything.  They signed away their rights to make any sort of demands on me or have any sort of control over me as a person 24 years and 11 days ago.

I respect them as people.  I wouldn't "out" myself to their two minor daughters because my sisters are their children and I respect that.  But, that doesn't mean I don't have the right to contact anyone else, any other adult.  There are no rules against it, no laws to stop one adult from contacting another for the first time.  I'm not a stalker, I don't intend to harm anyone, and I have the right to contact someone I'm related to if that's what I want.  I'm not saying I'd do it.  I seriously doubt I would.  But if I don't, it's because I made that decision, not my first parents.

And I'm not going to enter willingly into a relationship where I have to check the time before texting like a mistress or something.  I'm sorry, but I deserve better.  I get that he's in a bad situation.  I don't know how he does it.  Before, I would try to be mindful of the time.  I tried not to text him on a day off.  But he was the one texting me on his days off.  He initiated it.  I followed unspoken rules before to try to make things easier.  But I won't follow dictated ones for the sake of making things easier for him when it comes to people who should already know about me.

It's not fair to me.  It's not right.  And I won't have anything to do with it.  I won't be in a secret relationship like that.  So I'm going to take my aunt's advice.  I'm going to do what's best for me at this point.  Here's a quote to leave you with:

If I don't see myself as a victim, then I'm not a victim. 
~Noomi Rapace

What's OK To Blog About?

Some interesting stuff has been going on in blogland.  I wanted to write about it last week, but I hesitated because of some real world drama I was dealing with regarding this blog.  But I think it's important to discuss.

The big question seems to be: what is it OK to blog about and what isn't?  I don't have an answer for this question.  I wish I did.  It's not a land of black and white.  It's a land filled with grays of every shade.  It's a minefield and nobody it seems agrees on exactly what's OK and what crosses "the line".  Because nobody really can say where that line is.

To me, adoption is very personal.  It took a lot for me to open up about, and a lot to post about it on a public blog, because this is after all a public blog.  I don't use real names, I keep things vague, and I don't post photographs of people.  The photos that I post of myself are obscured to the point where I don't think you'd know it was me if you passed me on the street (big sunglasses anyone?).  So I post publicly about a personal subject.  What's fair game?  It's something that I'm learning as time goes on.

My first parents don't know about this blog.  I've tried to be respectful of their privacy here.  I've never posted their pictures.  I don't use their names.  Most of the posts that reveal anything that's even close to a detail about this is located on a private blog.  If one of my first parent's family members found this blog, I've done everything I can to make it so that they wouldn't be able to figure it out.  I'm very careful of their privacy.  But at the same time, I know it might make them feel uncomfortable to find out I was blogging about our reunion, especially my first mother who is very very private.  Do I have a right to blog about what happened with her?

For me, I do think I can blog about it.  I've really struggled with this however.  I've questioned myself a lot about my motivations.  But while I'm not perfect and sometimes I move things over to the private site, I continue to blog.  It's my way of connecting with my larger community.  I have connected with others who are able to help me understand what she's going through better.  And I think it would be different if I used her name, if this blog was connected to me in real life, or if I was saying nasty things about her.  But I try to be positive.  I try to keep things neutral (though I know they aren't always).  I don't call her names.  I don't bash either of my first parents though sometimes I'd like to.  This happened to me.  I didn't have a say in it.  And this is about my life and how I see it.

The thing is, adoption is a part of my life.  But it's not my entire life.  So sometimes I post about other things, things that aren't 100% adoption related.  It happens.  I'm a person, I'm human, and I want at times to show my readers that "Look!  I'm a real boy!" kind of thing.  I know I have a number of non-adopted readers here.  Do you go out with your friends?  I do to!  Do you have family drama not related to adoption?  I do to!  Do you have trials in your life that aren't adoption related?  Me too!  Look!  We're more alike than you think!  I don't mean that meanly.  It's my way of trying to connect.  I hope I succeed, but I know that sometimes posts fall flat.  For that, I'm sorry.

Joy had some great advice over on Joy's Division.  Defiantly worth a read!  Also, some other lovely ladies posted similar topics last week too... Suz at Writing My Wrongs and Lorraine on FMF.  Check it out!

Decision Made About Sisters

I know, I know...

I've been thinking a lot about my sisters.  And how far I'm willing to go when it comes to them.  I've gotten a lot of advice.  There is a camp out there who thinks I should wait until they are older and then get in touch with them.  This group says that the girls are young right now (14 and 17) and that I should give them some time to grow up a bit before I come charging into their lives.  And there is another camp (slightly larger) that says I should do it now, because they are old enough, and they deserve to know about me.  So I've been listening to each side, thinking about the options, and trying to figure out what to do.

And in this process, I started to think about what it would eventually look like after they know about me.  And if they wanted anything to do with me.  And no matter how hard I try, I don't see it ending all that well.  Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe it could be wonderful.  But we have some major obstacles in our way.

For starters, even if they were able to get past the fact they have a sister they never knew about, I could see it being a major challenge to build a relationship with me while still living at home.  I don't have contact with our mother.  She doesn't want to meet me, she doesn't even want to talk about me with my first father, so I don't see that changing any time soon.  If my sisters wanted to discuss me with her, she wouldn't want to.  It would hurt her.  And I don't like the idea of my sisters being put in the middle.

Next up, we were raised very differently.  And I think it would be very hard for them to understand that I wasn't giving a better life, just a different one.  I know that from the outside my life at times looks perfect.  My adoptive family works very hard on appearances.  And I also know that I grew up "lucky".  I didn't have a horrible childhood.  But at the same time, who knows what my life could have been with my biological family?  And honestly, I wish I had known them growing up.  I struggle with identity, self-esteem, and relationships because of my adoption.  To a sister who only sees the world in black and white, I can see this being a problem.  I can see jealously in our future, on my part and on theirs.  It's not something that we couldn't overcome, but it would be a major challenge.

Then we have the extended family problem.  My first father does not think it would be a good idea for me to meet his family.  Now, if you know me at all, you know that doesn't mean anything to me.  If I want to get to know them, I'm going to.  So that's not the issue.  I'm an adult.  I can make my own decisions Thank You Very Much.  The issue is more that when my first father's family (and mine) finds out about me, there's going to be a lot of drama.  And my sisters are going to have to deal with all of it.  Which could cause further problems.  And on my first mother's side, we have the grandparent issue.  Because my grandparents were in a position to support her in keeping me and they didn't.  They encouraged the adoption.  But to my sisters, they were the best grandparents in the world.  So I can see that being a major problem as well when dealing with people who are very focused on seeing the world in black and white.  And I can see my sisters being defensive.  Heck, I would be too if I were in that position.

Then again, all of these assumptions could be wrong.  I could meet them, things could work themselves out, and in the end I could have a wonderful relationship with two more sisters.  We don't share a history but if we could get over that, maybe we could share a future.  However, nothing in either of my reunions went the way I had hoped for it to go.  And I honestly can't see it happening, not without my first parents cooperation.  Which I'm realizing the more time goes on, I'm not going to get.

I'm slowly getting used to the idea.  I feel like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I'm letting it go.  It's taken a lot for me to get to this place.  But I'm working hard to grieve the loss of the fantasy and deal with my reality.  Someday they will find out about me.  And maybe we'll talk a few times, even meet a time or two.  But that's probably all that will happen.  And even that might not materialize.  So I'm moving on.  I'm accepting that this is the hand that was dealt to me.

I'm not going to "out" myself to my sisters.  I don't see the point.  I'm not really going to gain anything other than heartbreak.  And I'm not ready for more heartbreak right now.  It's going to take years before I'm in a place for that.  So thank you to everyone who has supported me in this.  It really means a lot to me.

I don't see myself as giving up, just realizing the reality of the situation and getting to a place where I'm ok with that.  It's working well for now.

How It All Ties In

I love how I get to make these posts every now and then.  Not really.  I know I've been blogging about adoptive family drama a lot lately.  And while it might be a bit annoying to some, I see it as adoption related.  Here's why.  Stories have been coming out about the Grinch lately.  I've been a lot more open about my reunion with the people in my life.  I'm working on being completely open.  This is something that I've kept bottled up for so long that it's not easy to open up about it.  It's taken a lot of courage to open myself up to criticism and negative reactions (of which I've received a few).  But at the same time, I can't expect SinginInTheRain or NeverTooLate to be open in their lives if I'm not open in mine.  I feel that's hypocritical.  So I'm working on it.  But that means that I'm having some interesting conversations.

So I start chatting with someone.  And somehow my reunion comes up.  I don't usually just bring it up, it comes up naturally.  Someone might ask me about my birthday and I'll mention that I spent part of the day with my first father.  Which leads to the abbreviated story.  And then the look.  And then the question: "And what does your father think about that?"  To which I respond: "Why do you ask it like that?" To which they respond: "Because of how protective he was of you and your sister!" Which is then followed with an explanation that usually ends with me trying to remain calm in the face of this well meaning person so they don't know that my blood is boiling.

When I was adopted, the Grinch told everyone that if my first parents showed up, he'd run away with me to Canada.  He was dead serious.  I was his daughter, and his alone.  Nobody else was going to take me from him.  My adoption wasn't what was best for me, it was all about him and his need to have children.  He loves me, don't get me wrong.  But he never once considered that if my first family showed up looking for me, it might be in my best interest to integrate them into my life.  When I was a baby, it was easy for him to pretend I was his.  He bought into the whole blank slate theory.  As I got older and learned how to talk, it became pretty clear that I'm nothing like him.  At all.  And no matter how hard he tried, I never would be.  I sort of look a bit like him (we have the same hair color and similar skin tones) but other than that, we have almost nothing in common.  So it was hard for him to deal with that.  I wasn't just his daughter.  If I was, I'd be more like him.

When my sister was adopted, my uncle flew out to Michigan to rent a car (I have a feeling the same was done for me).  My uncle (not sure which one, but one of the ones with a different last name than us) drove it back to Massachusetts to pick my sister up from the hospital/agency/where ever (I was three, I don't remember).  He didn't want the car to be traced back to us.  Keep in mind, my sister has a semi-open adoption.  My parents knew her first parents' names and addresses.  But he wanted to make sure that they couldn't trace the car back to him so they'd never know where we lived or our last name.

So a lot of his recent behavior makes some sense.  Things have gotten ten times worse for me ever since I mentioned the whole bed bug incident.  So the Grinch's possessive behavior and subsequent anger at me isn't completely unexpected as others tell me stories that help me to understand him better.

So my dear readers, it all ties in.  It's not pretty at all.  But such is adoption.  Joy.

Life Is Like A River

Things are a little dark

I'm really hoping this week goes better than last.  I was sick last week.  I had a horrible headache that kept coming and going.  I was hot, then cold.  I'd take a hot shower and my teeth would chatter.  Everything hurt.  I'd lie in bed and finally get comfortable enough to drift off to sleep and something else would start to hurt and I'd have to shift to get comfortable again.  So the result was that I was exhausted, but unable to sleep.  My stomach was bothering me too.  I used to get abdominal migraines as a kid, and this wasn't as bad, but still uncomfortable.  I'm just glad I managed to keep the little food I was able to eat down.

So I was banished to my bedroom for a few days.  I went to work two of the three days, but it wasn't so much fun.  I guess the interesting thing was that I texted my first father when I had enough energy to pick up my phone so he wouldn't think I was upset with him if I didn't text him.  Turns out he was sick too.  And Sandlot was sick.  I don't know of anyone else who's been sick lately.  Weird, right?

On top of it all, my relationship has hit yet another rough patch.  I don't know if we're going to survive this one. So I was sick, curled up in the fetal position, feeling more alone than I've ever felt in my life.  My mom couldn't come near me because her immune system isn't what it used to be.  My dad didn't really care, as long as I stayed away from everyone else.  And Rudy is over two hours away and I wasn't speaking to him anyway.  Seriously, if someone tells you that long distance relationships work, they don't.

This week has to be better.  I'm finally starting to feel better.  I feel like I'm back to normal with SinginInTheRain after the whole "not telling" thing came out.  He didn't get that I was seriously OK with it.  I didn't tell him I was happy, but I let him know it was OK.  A few months ago, I would have been pissed.  So I get why he didn't/doesn't totally buy it, but things are different right now.  Things keep changing.  That's life.

Life isn't static.  It doesn't stand still, it changes like a river.  And that's just how it is.  We can't stop things from changing.  We can't stop the river.  We can either adapt and move with the current, or we can fight it and drown.  I personally would rather swim than sink.  I've gotten really good at adapting to change over the last few years.  I've had to.

If you had told me two years ago that I would not only find my first parents, but that they would be married and have two children who don't know about me, I wouldn't have believed you.

If you had told me two years ago that nearly two years after initial contact, my sisters would still not know about me, I wouldn't have believed you.

If you had told me two years ago that my mother who was almost never sick would be fighting a battle she can't win, I wouldn't have believed you.

If you had told me two years ago that my father would tell me that I don't have a right to be overwhelmed about my mother's illness because he's known her longer so his needs trump mine (yes, he's supposed to be the parent), I wouldn't have believed you (though I guess it wouldn't have been a complete shocker after he told me four times over the past ten years that I was the reason my mom had epilepsy).

If you had told me two years ago that after five years my boyfriend wouldn't be able to make up his mind if he wanted to be with me or not, and would tell me that moving forward with me was a "compromise", I wouldn't have believed you.

If you had told me two years ago that the kindest words that someone had said to me all week came in the form of blog comments from people I've never met, I wouldn't have believed you.

Sink or swim.  I'm choosing to swim.  And to say thank you to the people who have kept me going these past few weeks.  This post probably should be private, but I wanted to publicly thank everyone for being so nice to me and for giving me the strength to continue.  Thank you,

No Go

My attempt at a bag...
No wonder they won't say
anything about me :-) 

So I finally asked my first father about the status of letting me out of the bag.  I got the answer I was expecting. It's a no go.  He feels like crap.  Blah blah blah.  I'm handling it better than I thought I would.  I actually was secretly hoping that they wouldn't tell my sisters about me right now.  I'm not ready.  And I'm not in a good place.  I'd never bring that up and give them (my first parents) fodder to drag things out.  I could see them using it as an excuse for years if they wanted.  I don't want any of that on me.  But I don't think I can handle another added thing in my life right now.  I honestly don't.

I have my mother's health to deal with.  I have my father treating me like a stranger, only talking to me when he wants something or when he has another rule to dictate (the latest was no food in my room after I had an unopened bag of potato chips).  I have my sister who is not talking to me again because I wouldn't let her borrow my car one night when it was my only way to get to work the next morning (as in if something happened to my car, I'd have to call in sick because I couldn't get to work).  I have my boyfriend who lives two and a half hours away who I never get to talk to anymore because he's so busy (twelve hour work days suck) and he's not treating me the way I deserve.  And I have a lot of other stress from various things.  My to-do list has reached epic proportions.

I've also dropped five pounds in the last three weeks.  I'm not in a great place.  I'm working on digging myself out of it.  I'm exercising more (not helping the weight thing, but helping the mental thing which I hope in turn will help the weight thing).  I'm learning more about photography and playing with my new camera.  I'm reading more and watching TV less (though I have discovered Once Upon a Time and I highly recommend it).  I'm taking time to email my long lost friends.  I'm working on a scrapbook using the new pictures I'm taking.  So I'm learning to move forward with my life.  It's working, but slowly.  It's just all hit me at once.  And I'm trying to focus more on me as a person.  I've given so much of myself to others, which is the way I like to be.  But I haven't taken the time to focus on just me.  And I'm stretched too thin these days in more ways than one.  I'm slowly being pulled apart and I can't continue this way.  I need to get better before I'm in a position to have an all encompassing reunion with two sisters.  Who may not want a reunion.  I just can't handle that at this particular time.

I don't know how long it's going to take me to pull myself out of this depression I seem to find myself in.  In the past, it's only taken a few days.  I'm now closing in on week three.  This is different for me.  I'm not used to feeling like this for extended amounts of time.  I'm working on it.  I have some wonderful people helping me and supporting me.  I'm determined to get through this in one piece.

I feel selfish for not being more upset.  My sisters finding out about me is something that I've wanted since the minute I found out about them.  But I can't handle it right now.  I honestly think I'd have a mental break down if one more thing gets added to my plate right now.  I just can't deal with one more person depending on me to get them through hard times.

I can hear my friend Christina's question right now.  What's the ideal situation that you envision?  So to answer you my dear friend (because I know you read this blog all the time these days or lots of people from an obscure African country have managed to find my blog), the ideal would be that I'd dig myself out of this hole over the next few weeks.  I'm giving myself time to deal.  Then I'd maintain being mentally together for a few months.  I need to feel stable for a bit.  And then I'd start to entertain the idea of a reunion.  Maybe in the spring.  Hopefully I'll have some other things worked out by then.  That's my ideal.  A spring reveal.  Where I'm more together.  And I'm happier.  And I've got more things worked out.  And my life is more stable.  That's what I'm working towards.  Naturally, I have no say.  But a girl can dream.

The Cycle Could Continue

Something that has always struck me was when one member of the "Triad" (stupid name, makes me think of a gang) participates in adoption as second time around.  They continue the cycle so to speak.  I'm not saying it's a bad thing; I'm choosing to withhold judgement.  I do think that an adoptee would make a better adoptive parent in that they in theory should understand what the adoptee is going through.  Rebecca over at Love Is Not a Pie is someone who comes to mind.  Another part of me wonders though if every adoptee things about adoption differently (of this I am convinced) then who's to say that an adoptee adoptive parent won't force their views on an adoptling?  It could happen.  Anyway, that is why I withhold judgement.  I can see pros and cons.  Moving on....

So it's an interesting concept.  And something that I think about from time to time.  I don't know enough about it.  And then I was rereading some old emails and letters and something that NeverTooLate emailed me stopped me dead in my tracks.

"[The girls] both say they don’t want to get married.  The funny thing is that they both talk about adopting a baby and not having one the other way."

Interesting.  Very interesting.  My sisters both talk about adopting a baby.  Now, the first thing that came into my head is that they were 12 and 15 at the time.  What 12 year old wants to get married?  I probably said the same thing at that age.  But I keep thinking about how that conversation must have gone down in their house.  How painful it must have been for NeverTooLate to have that conversation and know that she was hiding a huge adoption secret from them.  What could have been a teachable moment was instead probably an uncomfortable one.

My sisters, my full biological sisters who do not know how adoption has already touched their family, might continue the cycle without realizing it.  They might adopt without knowing that they have a sister they lost through adoption.  Because they did lose.  Those two girls lost the older sister they could have grown up with.  They lost having a big sister to cheer them on when they accomplished things, like KungFuPanda's acceptance into college this week, or Sandlot's softball win last year.  They lost having someone with a similar personality hanging around the house.  KungFuPanda lost dating advice and Sandlot lost someone to share her favorite candy with (again, arguably better for her that way -- more candy for her!).  No matter what way you look at it, they lost something because of adoption.  Would they feel the same way about adopting if they knew that?

Would they see a child who is a blank slate, or would they be more likely to see the family behind the child who lost the ability to raise them?  Would they see the need for a child (not the old fashioned way) or would they see a child who had a need for a family?  Would they feel differently about the whole thing?  I'm guessing probably.

I hope they know about me before it gets to that point.  I hope I've had the opportunity to talk to them and to be a part of their lives by the time they start thinking of having children.  I hope that by getting to know me, and learning about the loss in their own lives, they may start to see that adoption is not black and white.  While I would support my sisters in anything, even if I didn't approve, I would hope they would understand that their family has suffered, and take that into consideration.  If they chose to adopt, I would hope it was because they truly needed to, rather than because they just didn't feel like having kids "the other way".

Lost Daughters: Ask An Adoptee: Married First Parents

Lost Daughters: Ask An Adoptee: Married First Parents: I have often wondered how adoptees feel about learning that their first parents have married after giving them up? Would you be comfortabl...

Out of My Rut

What an interesting week.  Last week, everything I touched turned to poop.  I was super stressed, and it seemed that everything I tried failed.  It didn't matter if it was professional, personal, whatever.  I wasn't in a good place.  I had a feeling the week wasn't going to be so great because I was expecting a crash after my birthday.  Whatever.

So I had a shitty week.  It happens.  And then things started to get better.  I cleaned.  I organized.  I took pictures.  I not only talked to one of my best friend's in Africa, but I got an email from the other.  I got an email from my first father after a month of silence on that front.  My email book was delivered over a week early.  I got to pick out new furniture for my room.  I got to put together a few nice gifts for people.  I got to hang out with my family who always makes me laugh.  I put together my mother's family tree and discovered a few interesting things.  And I felt like my life was a lot more organized.

It's amazing to me how things can go so badly one week, and bounce back so quickly.  I can feel so out of it and only a week later, I'm feel more like my old self.  I'm not there 100% (I did have a minor freak out the day KungFuPanda got into college and I couldn't share that moment with her) but I'm getting there.  I seriously hate this stupid month, but I've made a few decisions.  I'm asking about the whole letting me out of the closet thing.  I think that's part of the reason I've been having such a rough time lately.  I don't like things hanging over my head.  I want to know what's going on.  And if it hasn't been decided yet, then I'm letting my first father know that I want to know when it's been decided.  I don't like feeling like a spectator in my life.  I want to be a participant.

It's funny but by shifting my attitude and making a decision, my whole body feels better.  I feel like this giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I feel freer.  I'm taking my life back.  I want to be happy.  I want to feel peace.  I want to feel like my life is my own.

When I was cleaning, I found a card in an old wallet.  It's a card I used to carry around with me until I changed purses and it didn't make it over to the new purse.  It helped me to get out of my most recent rut.  I figured I'd share it here with you:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.

Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.

Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,

other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed

that during the low periods of my life,

when I was suffering from

anguish, sorrow or defeat,

I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,

"You promised me Lord,

that if I followed you,

you would walk with me always.

But I have noticed that during

the most trying periods of my life

there have only been one

set of footprints in the sand.

Why, when I needed you most,

you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,

"The times when you have

seen only one set of footprints,

is when I carried you."

~Mary Stevenson

So I hope that none of my readers are stuck in a rut.  But if you are, I have confidence that you'll pull yourself out.

Wish I Could Fast Forward

Fast Forward Please?

I can't help but feeling that things are changing once again.  There's been a lot of changes in my life lately, including today when I head over to my cousin's wedding, the first cousin to be married (on my adoptive mom's side anyway).  One change is that we got new furniture for our family room and kitchen so our whole living space looks different.  Another change is that my friends have jobs now so I see them less often.  And my adoptive sister has moved back home and is causing problems again.  Though the problems part isn't a change, her living back at home is.  My stress level has gone through the roof because I can't handle the toxic environment in that house.  Everyone hates each other.  I swear, it's so bad you could cut the tension with a knife.  I digress...

My reunion feels like it's changing.  There's talk of me potentially being let out of the closet a little bit.  I really don't want to get my hopes up.  A few months ago, I would have been absolutely thrilled at the idea of anyone finding out about me.  I would have been so thrilled to feel like I was moving forward in some way.  But right now, I can't imagine any other changes in my life.  What if my family, who for now doesn't know about me, doesn't want to meet me?  What if they are so hurt by the whole thing they don't want to deal with me?  Then because they know about me, it's really up to them when to get in touch with me.  So I have to have the idea of reunion floating over my head?

I don't want to sound whiny.  That's not my intention.  It's just that when I've entered into a reunion relationship with someone new (and so far it's only been two people), it's been all consuming.  It's all I can think about for days.  I write and rewrite emails.  I ponder over every message, every picture.  I wonder where things are going to go.  And I can't help but think about how things could end so badly.  It's stressful and amazing all at the same time.  On one hand I get to know my family, something that I've always wanted.  Missing puzzle pieces aren't so missing anymore.  And I am a new person now that I finally feel like I have a background I can be proud of.  But at the same time, I've got so much on my plate right now.  So so much.

All of these changes keep happening and I have no control over it.  I know that if I asked SinginInTheRain for some space, he'd back off ASAP.  I know he would.  I still might not be a secret, but I could request for some more time before starting to build any new relationships.  But we all know that I would never forgive myself if I did that.  And we all know that's not going to work for me.

So it looks like I'm going to have to get on board and deal with this now.  I'm going to have to organize my life in such a way that I can deal with a possible new reunion (or two) within the next month.  Who knows?  It could go wonderfully.  A lot of times I go back and reread my posts where I had a minor flip out and I can't help but laugh because I was worried over nothing.  I'm hoping that this turns out to be nothing.

At the same time, nothing is set in stone.  Plans could change.  Plans probably will change.  More likely, Thanksgiving break will come and go and it won't be any different.  I also don't think that I'd even be told if the possibility of telling is put off.  I think it would just be glossed over.  I'd have to ask, and how does one ask about that?  Can you imagine it?  "Hey um, so you mentioned before that I wasn't going to be a big secret anymore, just maybe a medium sized secret.  Um, yeah, so how's that going?"  Pretty sure if I have to ask, I'm going to do it just like that! ;-)

To end this post on a good note, my life could change for the better.  It really could.  I could end up with a new relationship that makes my life better.  It could be amazing.  It could be the start of something that will continue for the rest of my life.  A wonderful thing.  Maybe that's why I'm so scared.  Because right now I can dream of that.  Come this time next month, I may know if it's not going to come to pass.  Sigh.  Wish life has a fast forward button sometimes!

Roller Coaster Ride

Reunion can be a roller coaster ride.  There are times when things are fantastic, and other times when things aren't so great.  Want to read more?  Email me if you need the password for my private blog.  *Note: All the posts have the same password.

This post can be located here: http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/2011/11/03/roller-coaster-ride/

ETA: Fixed the broken link!

Promises and News

My first father and I had a major discussion last week.  It was pretty epic.  A lot more things make sense now, and there could potentially be a lot of big changes on the horizon.  Like soon.  If you've been following along, you probably can guess what those changes might be.  If you don't want to guess, you can read about it here!  Email me for the password if you'd like it!

http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/2011/10/31/promises-and-news/

Geography

It's Massachusetts!

It's a common thing for people to want to go to the place they came from.  I have seen it many times in my own family.  I have relatives that traveled back to Ireland and went to towns where their ancestors are from (I say their, not mine - a new development for me).  I have friends who were born in other cities in other states and they have traveled back at one point or another (sometimes to visit family and friends still there, other times because it is where they are from and they want to visit).  It is not unheard of.

I have been thinking a lot about this phenomenon.  This idea of going back to where it all started.  It is no secret that I have never been to the city where I was born after my adoptive parents took me home to Boston.  It was never a place we wanted to visit.  They were honest and told me where I was born and that my first mother was from there, but other than that, it was never discussed.  We lived (and still do) an hour away, but it was never a place for us to visit.  We never went to any museums there, we never visited that zoo, we never attended any cultural festivals...  I was never told anything good about the city where I was born.

As I got older, people would ask where I was born and I would tell them.  I never had any problems answering questions.  Then the comments would start.  It became pretty clear that people in my hometown looked down their noses at where I was from.  I hadn't lived there since I was two months old, but it was not a good place to talk about.  Because I was so caught up in the clean slate theory, I looked down my nose too.  It must be a crazy place.  My first mother was probably a crack whore and my first father was probably a cold abandoner who most likely did not even know about me.  I was a kid, these assumptions happen.

When I was in high school, I started looking at colleges and one of them was right near my birth city.  We passed it on the highway and my mom offered to get off and go to a Dunkin Donuts or something so I could see where I was born.  I told her no and begged her to keep driving.  That was the first time I realized I had a fear of where I was born.  In all of about five seconds I thought about what it would be like to go to a Dunkin Donuts.  I would scan every face and wonder if one of them was her.  What it she was there?  Would I know?  The thought freaked me out.  It scared me.

I had a pretty good idea about being Portuguese.  I looked the part, and I was from an area that meant I probably was Portuguese.  My mother told me I was French, and again, it made some sense.  So that was cool.  I took French in high school in an effort to connect in any way to my past from a distance.  Nobody needed to know that I had a drop of French blood...  The English ancestry was a complete surprise.  I was raised by an Irish family.  My adoptive dad runs around the house screaming about how much he hates the English.  I've been to England back when I thought I had no connection.

I would have a very hard time visiting Portugal.  I have a hard time going into a Portuguese bakery.  I freak out, can't make eye contact with the people behind the counter.  I feel like an outsider.  Rudy doesn't get it.  He wonders what the big deal is.  They're supposed to be my people right?  Well, they don't feel like that.  They don't feel like my people.  Irish pub?  No problem.  I understand that culture.  Portuguese bakery?  Nope, don't get it at all.  I'm not Irish, I'm Portuguese but you'd never know that by the way I act.  It's such a close knit community, I don't think I'll ever feel like I "get it".  Ever.  So even though I'd love to visit the Azores where most of my family is from, I don't know if I'll ever work up the nerve to visit.

Simiarly, I don't know if I'll ever be able to visit my birth city until all of my family knows about me and I've gotten to meet them.  I know what my first mother looks like now.  I'd be able to pick her out of a crowd.  If we went into Dunkin Donuts and she was there, I'd know.  I may not be prepared to meet her, but I know I never will be fully prepared.  And I'd probably walk right up to her and say hi.  I don't think it would go over very well.

I shouldn't have that fear.  I think it would be disrespectful for me to go to their house just to check the place out, but I should be able to go to a city where I was born to check it out.  The city I would have been raised in had they kept me.  It shouldn't be such a big deal, yet it is.

Maybe someday. My first father promised to show me around someday.  Maybe if I have someone else there with me, I'd feel better about it.  Rudy doesn't know it yet (unless he reads it here) but if that's the case, he's totally coming with me me. :-P

New Era

My Identity Is Top Secret

My ideas are shifting.  That's one of the reasons why I love blogging.  I can go back and look at what I wrote and how I felt several months ago and I can see how my thinking has changed.  This is a good thing as I make progress, and a bad thing when I don't.

I've been thinking lately about my adoptive grandmother.  As a backstory, I have three living grandparents from my adoptive family.  My paternal grandfather died five years ago and I miss him very much.  We were very close and he was a huge part of my life.  Nobody else in my family got the way my mind worked, only him.  I would come to him with a wild idea and he would sit down with me and help me translate it into real life.  If circumstances had been different for him in life, he would have been an engineer.  His mind just worked that way.  Not that I'm not incredibly proud of him.  I am.  I'm proud my grandfather worked on the alarms for Boston Fire Department.  He had a very noble job.  And he worked hard to support his family.  But his mind worked a certain way, and mine was similar.

My maternal grandparents are amazing people.  They raised eight children and have an awesome family.  We're all very close to each other, and I think that's saying a lot.  I haven't always seen eye to eye with them (they come from a different generation) but I love them despite that.  They are there for me in whatever way they can be, and as I gotten older, we've become a lot closer.  I don't know what I would do without them these days.  A while back, I told them I had found my first family.  I didn't give them details, but shared I had found them in order to get medical information.  They were very quiet (which I expected) and I let them know what was going on without sharing too much with them.  They don't want to know.  I get that and respect it 100%.  They don't know that I've met my first father.  We haven't talked about my reunion in a long time.  It's not that I'm not willing to be open about it, I just don't want to shove it down their throats.  And if they ask, or if it were to come up naturally, I'd tell them.  I feel I can be open with them.

My paternal grandmother is a different story.  I love her to death.  I do.  But she can be a challenging person to deal with.  I have lived with her off and on since my grandfather died.  I spend weekends there  now and then (and now that she has wireless, I'll probably be spending a lot of weekends there in the future).  She gives me a nice place to escape to.  However, ever since my grandfather died, she's been different.  My grandmother has a lot of time on her hands.  And she knows how to use the phone.  So if there's any type of news ever, she's on the phone sharing it with others.  And she tends to spin things her own way.  She leaves out key details to make things look horrible for whoever has pissed her off the most lately.  As her family, we know this and know to double check things.  But others don't always know this and we've often had to clean up her messes.  She's an old lady and I don't think she always does it on purpose, but it happens.

I used to be scared of this.  I know how my grandmother feels about my adoption.  She's the only one who remembers my adoption date.  She sends me cards on the day my a-parents brought me home.  She tells me all the time how thankful she is that I came into her life.  I don't see her being happy about me finding my first family.  I decided not to tell her and asked my family members not to say anything to her.  They all agreed.  My adoptive parents were very supportive of everything, but they asked me not to tell my grandmother.  And my aunts and uncles all asked the same thing.  So out of respect for them, I haven't told her.  But I've also decided not to keep it a secret anymore.  I've been spending less time at her house because I don't want her to see a text message, or overhear a phone call between me and my first father.  I've decided this needs to stop.  If she sees something, then she can ask about it.  And I'll explain as best I can.  But I won't lie.  My family will just have to deal with it.

I'm tired of treating this like a secret.  It's not good for me.  I'm too stressed out about it.  So I'm taking that stress off the table.  The chips will fall where they may.  I won't instigate anything, but I won't lie about it either.  From this day on, I'm being 100% open.  No more weirdness, no more awkwardness, and no more hiding things.  Welcome to the new age of Jenn's life.  Enjoy the ride.