Update on the whole “I did a DNA test and got in contact with my biological mother, this is weird shit” deal:
So I’ve talked to E three times on the phone, and it’s been wonderful each time. She’s really kind and just--like, what I appreciate the most is that she doesn’t want to push herself into my life; she doesn’t expect me to call her mom, and she doesn’t expect me to, like, change my life for her. She just wants me to be comfortable, and whatever I want to give. Which is nice, and has done a lot to destress me and calm my general anxiety about all of this.
And it’s just really strange--flattering, but also super strange--to have someone so invested and interested in my life. Like, for someone to want to hear more about my life and my childhood and my thoughts and stuff, and to not get tired of me talking. And I’m not really used to it yet, and I am trying to learn that, like, she wants longer emails, not shorter. And it’s just. Yeah. It’s strange. Flattering but strange.
And it’s also just so strange to have someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger, to genuinely care and love me? Like. It’s just so strange to know that there is a woman who is--in some ways--as invested in my life and wellfare as my parents who raised me. So it’s just. It’s very interesting, and also just. I dunno.
And like. There’s just a lot of bittersweetness to this. She’s told me several times how happy she is, and how grateful she is, that I had the childhood that I did, that I had all the opportunities and support that my parents were able to give me, that she would not have been able to give me herself. And I’m really grateful, too, because I did have a good childhood. There might’ve been shitty parts, but the vast majority of it was wonderful, and I was blessed in so many ways. And I really could sing my mom’s praises for fucking years and have barely scratched the surface. So yeah, I’m also really grateful, and that’s the sweetness.
But then I also think about, like, how E lived for thirty-two years, not knowing if I was even alive, if I did have a good childhood, if she did make the right choice. And like, I know that I felt guilt and confusion and uncertainty about it, and that’s just from my side, as a child--I can’t begin to imagine what it was like for her, as a woman who carried a baby for nine months, and loved that baby, and released that baby because she thought that was the best chance the baby would have for a happy and healthy life.
So there’s the bitterness--thinking about how much that must have hurt for thirty-two years.
And like, E has told me that one of the things that she’s really happy about--and she’s told me so many things that she’s so happy about, and that make me happy, too--is that now she knows that she made the right decision, and she has that assurance that she did the best thing for me. And I do think she did, I really do.
And like--my birthday is this Friday (May the Fourth, you guys! I was doomed to being a nerd from the day I was born, hahahah), and last week she gushed at me about how excited and happy she was that for the first time, she’d be able to go shopping and buy me a birthday present. And just, like--she sent me a birthday package, and I picked it up today, and everything inside of it was so sweet, and so thoughtful, and just--each present shows that she has listened to the things I’ve told her, that she’s noticed things that I haven’t told her, but that she saw in pictures that I’ve sent her, that she’s actually paying attention and that she, like, really is interested in and cares about my wants and needs and interests, and it’s just. I’ve never had anyone show that much love and attention to me, other than my parents. And like. It was just like, “holy shit, this is, like, another family member.” And of course I started to cry, because she gave me too much. I just. I’m happy, but it’s also breaking my heart because I just keep thinking, “holy fuck, how would that feel?”
IDK. It’s just. It’s a lot of feelings that I’m having. And she’s really wonderful and not pushy. I’m just always stressed out by emotions and any kind of, like, familial intimacy, through no fault of anyone around me. Just me being me. But I’m also just so grateful and like. It is just. It feels really strange to know that someone other than my parents loves me. That someone other than my parents loves me, and doesn’t want anything in return. That it’s not a give-and-take situation, that she has no expectations for me, that she doesn’t expect me to give her anything in return, unless I want to.
And just. I’m sorry, I’m still going on--and holy fuck, I’m super sorry if anyone is actually reading all of this, but I just need to, idk, spill it all out like spilling out my guts on the floor--but I had spent so many years wondering if my birth mother had seen me as a regret, if I’d been a mistake, if I’d ruined her life and her chances, if I’d hurt her future life, if I’d been the result of rape or abuse or anything painful like that, etc., etc., etc. Like, for twenty-something years, since I was around eleven or twelve, I just always wondered if I’d been such a mistake, that it would’ve been better if I’d been aborted. And E told me--I haven’t told her any of that--but E told me, just of her own volition, that I had been the best thing to ever happen in her life. That her life had been a mess, but when she found out that she was pregnant, that she cleaned up her life, that she decided to change her life and do better. And she told me so many times that I changed her life completely, and that I made her the person she is today, and just. Holy shit. Holy shit. Like. My self-esteem is shit and I drown in self-hatred on a near daily basis, and the only reason I want to teach is because I want to try to help people. I want to make people’s lives a little bit better, I want to make young people excited to learn new things, and to maybe make their time in school more enjoyable, and basically. I don’t know. I want to make people’s lives better. And I know I can never change the world, and I know that I can never fix anything entirely, but I just always want to, I don’t know, make someone’s day a little bit better, because then maybe I really am doing something worthwhile? And then maybe it was okay that my birth mom gave birth to me? Then maybe I was worth the expense and the pain and the anguish and the time and the resources and everything else that my parents poured into me for years and years and years, even though I’ve been such a fucking disaster so much of the time. So just. To hear her say that just by being conceived, and by being the potentiality of this life, that just by that, I made her life better, and made her the person she is today? And to hear her say that I was the best thing that ever happened in her life?
Just to hear that I wasn’t a regret. That just. It means so much to me, because I think I’ve felt like I must have been a regret for most of my life. Not from my adopted mom--she would never, she’s amazing, and I know she loves me more than anything--but that I was a regret to other people. That I was a regret to the woman who had to be pregnant and give birth.
I don’t know. There’s just a lot of feelings. Blah. So like. There’s a lot of catharsis, but it’s also just really emotionally draining, and y’know. It’s like, even when you’re purging something, you might be getting rid of all the bad shit, but it’s still a painful process. So I guess that’s what’s going on. idk.
And now I’ve been crying and I’m all snotty and my head hurts, so I’m going to go to bed. But like. Thank you, you guys, for all of your support and comments and just keeping in touch with me during all of this. I really, really can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate it, how much it means to me. (And now I’m crying again. D: You guys are wonderful, thank you.)
OH AND ALSO, E and my mom have started exchanging emails, and E’s dad has started emailing me, and he and my mom are going to exchange emails, because my mom’s family and E’s family are all from Oregon, so they wanna see if maybe there’re any connections there. And also also, E invited me--if I want to--to come visit her this summer; she said that she and her dad have been arguing over who gets to buy my plane ticket if I go out, because she wants to, but her dad wants to, too. And like, she said I could stay in her house, or I can stay in a hotel if I don’t feel comfortable, and just, like. Just how much she cares about not pushing me is just. Idk. To be honest, I kinda feel like I don’t even deserve it, hahaha....ugh, okay. Goodnight. D: Thank you all again.
