“Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion.” – C. Northcote Parkinson
Things I want to write about but don’t have the time:
How sad I find it that so many adoptees give up the chance to know/meet their first families “out of respect” for their adoptive. I find it sad because the chances are great that those adoptees were given up because their mothers were paying respect to their families and churches and other such authority figures.Â Do we pass on lack of voice/power/sense of self to our children? : (
How my fiance and I met, via an on-line dating site, and out of the hundreds (millions?) of men on that site I mightÂ possibly meet, I meetÂ one who grew up in my home town and graduated from my own high school four years before me. (We never knew each other.) This information wasn’t in our profiles or part of any algorithm we know of.Â Our “matching” was truly random. Or was it? What are the odds?
How I am doing better and better with the lack of contact with my daughter. That may sound harsh or cold. It isn’t meant to be. Her caring for me, or not, no longer defines me as it once did. I feel I am at another xroads. More to come on this.
How I am beginning to think my trepidation with the “step” title may be more about protecting myself than protecting the mother of my fiances sons.Â In summary: if my own daughter doesn’t recognize me as her mother, wont speak to me, how dare I expect my fiances sons, with no biological connection,Â to regard me in any positive light let alone call me step-something-or-other? Perhaps I am more comfortable with them taking her approach and completely ignoring me?
How I wish I had more time to donate to activism but like, right now, these days, I am suffering through a challenging workplace, decorating a fabu new home, getting my sons ready to start two separate schools,Â and loving being with my fiance and sons. Life is good.
How even though life is good and I feel better about things re: my daughter I am still pondering going back to therapy to deal with this chronic ache that exists in relation to her. I want to stop crying at the thought of her. I am getting okay with the lack of contact but I am struggling with something else. Her desire not to know me, not to be in my life is, for me, separate from how she treats me and how it makes me feel.Â That may make sense only to me. I feel as I may have hit a wall on my own and could use a bit of a jolt from my fabu therapist. Or maybe I just miss my therapist. Cuz, like, dude, he is very good.
How I listed my daughters father on ancestry, her original name and how that process made me feel simultaneously angry, confused and resolute.