Six months

I feel as though I need to start this entry with an apology to anyone who reads here regularly. I have clearly been inconsistent as a blogger for a while now and I realize how unfair that is to readers. But, as all of you probably well know, life gets crazy sometimes and before you know it, a few months have passed. So, I apologize. I thought about discontinuing this blog, but a little bit of my old fire is slowly warming up again and I don’t think it’s quite yet time for me to leave this. One day. Today, however, is not that day.

Last time I wrote here, I was feeling down and hurt about my birth mother. Today? Well, today I’m not sure that much has changed on that front. I’ve been battling all manner of issues recently, leaving me to again put my (what I perceive to be) failed birth search on the back burner. And then yesterday, out of absolutely nowhere, I ended up bawling about it on the phone to my mom. I can still say with complete conviction that I do not regret initiating the search. I am bound and determined to reach the other side of this hurt to find a wiser, stronger me. It just hasn’t happened yet. I’m still caught up in the hurt and grieving. How long will I be in this place? It feels so frustrating. So unproductive. I was hoping that half a year later I’d be farther along than I am and I really need to work on being kinder to myself about that. It’s okay to not feel okay. It doesn’t make me a weak person or an inferior person. It makes me human. Just have to keep reminding myself of that.

I just realized that I used the term ‘grieving’ in that last paragraph which I had never articulated before. This is grieving. My omoni’s refusal to have contact with me feels like losing her again. It is an ambiguous loss, to feel hurt and rejected by someone I don’t even know. The social worker me understands how so many factors could have contributed to my omoni’s decision. Factors that do not necessarily have anything to do with my own inadequacy, but with the greater society’s view of a woman having a child out of wedlock. My omoni is married with a child. Her reaching out to me could disrupt that life. If her husband does not know about me, his finding out might hurt their relationship. For her to reach out to me could potentially come at a great cost to her family and her reputation. I don’t want to cause her hurt in any of this.

And yet, a selfish part of me wants her to make the leap and take that risk. To be the rebel. To flip the bird to society and shout out loud that I am hers. I’m asking a lot. Maybe too much. I’m asking her to make the harder choice to choose me. She gave birth to me. I am and always will be her daughter, whether or not she acknowledges it. If she made contact with me, even just once, it would show me that she somehow determined rebelling was worth it. That I was worth it. I may never receive that affirmation from her and I really need to figure out how the heck to live with that.