An hour into a rather tedious interview with a reporter…
Reporter: So, I am not sure I understand. If your daughter had a good life, is fine (or happy or whatever one says with being adopted), why won’t she meet you.
Me: You would have to ask her that question. I cannot speak for her.
Reporter: Surely you must have some idea?
Me: Surely I do but again you are asking me to speak for her. I cannot. If you asked me why I won’t meet her (if that was the case) it might be a different answer.
Reporter: Uh. Um. Okay. Well did you do something to her?
Reporter: Yeah, like offend her, upset her, or something.
Me: Again, you would have to ask her.
Reporter: Surely you know if you did something offensive.
Me: Well I did leave her with strangers at 3 days old.
Reporter: But … she had a good life…a better life.
Me: Did she? We don’t know that. All she knows is I left her with strangers.
Reporter: I am struggling to understand.
Me: That is obvious. Let me put it this way. I believe her sanity requires denial of my existence. She is not adopted. I do not exist. She has no need to know me or her origins. My sanity requires that all acknowledge she does exist. She is real. She is alive. She is my daughter. I love her. Hard to have a relationship between two people when only one of us exists in the mind of the other.
Reporter: Uh. I don’t know what to say.
Me: Nor do I.
( I don’t think I will be used for the piece the reporter was investigating. I am good with that. )