Another Mother’s Day is here and I’m bracing myself for the yearly Facebook post of how proud you are of your two daughters. The thing is, there are three of us. I’ve been in the shadows for so long that the sunlight hurts my face now. Constantly asked to hide who I am that I ended up forgetting who I was. It’s taken me a long time to find myself again. It’s taken me even longer to come out of my shell and start to become the person I know I was created to be. I wish that things were different sometimes. I wish that my kids knew you as more than their aunt’s mother.
I won’t live in regret though. That’s not a space I choose to occupy. I did everything I could to have a relationship with you. I spent seventeen years hiding myself so that I could stay in your world. When painful things happened I wasn’t allowed to be disappointed since “I already had a family”. You’re right, I did. You were supposed to be my family. You were supposed to love me unconditionally. You were supposed to be proud of me. Unfortunately none of those things applied as far as I could tell.
Honestly, the rest of the year I don’t really think of you. I’m not saying that to be unkind, it’s just the truth. I go about my life, loving on my kids, adoring my husband, and spending time doing the things I love. On Mother’s Day though, I remember. I remember the pain of being kept a dirty little secret for so long. I remember the pain of being with you but feeling alone. I remember the pain of feeling like you were ashamed of me. That’s just not something I could have my children experience. Apparently I didn’t care about myself enough to end it but I am fiercely protective of my kids and I won’t have them feel like second class citizens. They, like I, deserve to be celebrated and loved. I’m sorry you weren’t prepared to do that even after thirty-two years of my existence.
It’s been five years since we talked. It’s been five years since I begged you to choose me over your secret. It’s been five years since you told me that I would never be celebrated publicly. Most of the time I’m over it. I’ve learned how to heal from that trauma, live life as a whole person, and truly be free.
But on Mother’s Day…I’m just a girl, standing in front of her birth mother, asking her to love me.
Sadly, the answer is always no.
To my fellow adoptees, I recorded a video for you. Know that I love you, I’m here for you, and I celebrate your existence. If you're struggling please grab my free guide here.
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