Anger

Do you want to know what really pisses me off?  The number of people who treat me like the freaking plague after I tell them I relinquished my child.  Yes, hells bells, I relinquished my child!  It was 100% my decision.  No one forced me (then again, no one tried to stop me either, but that’s, perhaps, for another missive).  I get that people who haven’t been there cannot understand, cannot even comprehend what would lead a person to do such a thing.  I get it because I cannot even understand or comprehend it now that I’m on this side of it.  Even people who, at one time, I was close with have closed the door on me (and going about it politely doesn’t make it suck any less, by the way…).  I feel unfit for this world because I felt unfit as a mother all those years ago.  But (and I want to use the gd word so very badly here, but out of respect for the One who has upheld me and stood with me and by me in the face of it all I will refrain), I am still a human being – and not a monster!  I didn’t kill my child.  I didn’t abandon my child – even if to you, little Ms., Mrs., and Mr. Ignoramus, it seems like I did (and if you have been kind to me, you know, then, that this is not directed toward you…and, thank you for your kindness and for not turning away).  I think about my son EVERY DAY!  I worry for him like you worry for your children.  I pray for him to avoid the pitfalls I fell into like you do and wish for him to not make the same mistakes I did.  And I just want to say here and now that I am not a freak!!

I know I’m not really angry at people who cringe away from me.  Although it hurts – like hell, in fact – it doesn’t hurt any more than the damage I’ve already done to myself and also to, God help me, potentially, my child.  You can’t hurt me any more than I have already proven I can hurt myself.

You can go your way and push me out of your thoughts, but you cannot push me out of this world.  I live here too and have to live with the choices I’ve made like everybody else does.  Even if it makes you uncomfortable, I am still here.  I am still, bleeding, HERE!  And I am one in a number of bleeding heres who are a signpost that points to something in this world that is very, very wrong, and very, very broken, and very, very much needs to be fixed.  No woman should be made to feel – either by silent signals or by very loudly vocalized ones – that she is unworthy of her own child.  And I also want to say to you, judgmental society, that conceiving a child is never a mistake.  Even if the relationship between the 2 people who’ve conceived is all wrong, or doesn’t work out, or what-have-you, it is never a mistake.  I’ve never believed that conceiving and having my son was a mistake, and I never will.  In the hearts and minds of the judgmental public, a change must – and will – come…if I have anything to do with it, anyway…

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2 thoughts on “Anger

  1. I think I’m still in limbo about what hurts more: being ignored to death or being critiqued to death over things. You’re right people don’t understand what it’s like to walk in your shoes. For whatever it’s worth I don’t condemn you nor will I pretend to know what it’s like to be in that situation. You are quite correct about the One who has stood with you (and will continue to do so). May He bring grace and healing to you my friend.

  2. Thank you for reading and for taking the time to allow understanding to come. For so long I was in what some like to call birthmother denial, this thing where I painted on a brave face and told everyone, including myself, it was all for the best, when I didn’t really have a clue if it was best or not. I didn’t have any idea what a profound effect it has on person to have their biological link to this world – the thing that’s supposed to help people make sense of the world around them – severed at such a young age. I didn’t have any idea the conflict, confusion, and burden of divided loyalties it puts a person in…so, so many things. And then I started listening to people’s stories, those who’d grown up adopted, and had to face the horror of what I’d created – both for my son and for me. That’s what this blog is about: processing the horrors that have been there screaming within me all along but, for the sake of upholding the social norm, I bit the bait and chewed on the hooks – for years. I’ve got to process all of that somehow…writing is the thing that seems to help me the most.

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