But when we have to fabricate those connections, it’s harder to rely on them. It’s harder to trust that this similarity is because we’re family, and not because we’re just two people who happen to like donut holes. Who doesn’t like donut holes? There’s loss in that sort of reality. But there’s also freedom.
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The Past Is Hard To Let Go Of, But Our Happiness Demands It
Two years ago, you’d be sure to find him sitting on the front porch, dog by his side, wagging her tail to the point of nearly falling off, anticipating our eminent arrival. It was strange to think that someone else was living in my dad’s house now. That someone else was calling it their home.
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It’s My Birth Mom’s Fault. But It’s My Responsibility.
I may be able to blame my adoption for the abandonment and trust issues I struggle with today. But how they impact my relationships is on me. Waiting for my biological mother to come clean about why I wasn’t worth holding onto, in hopes of getting some clarity about my inherent value, is to choose to remain stuck.
