Writing My Wrongs

The photo left (click for larger view) was taken today at a good luck/going away party for my niece. She is on the left, me on the bottom right.  It was an emotional day.  I gave her a recordable book (fabulous idea, Hallmark) to which I recorded my voice (and my sons) to various pages of the book. I also gave her a Tiffany key and wrote in the card that the real key to her success lays on opposite ends of the pendant when she wears it, more specifically, her own head and heart. When we left, she walked me to my car, told me that I was the only one that was supportive of her, she really appreciated it, loved me and more. Major blubber fest between us.

I wish her only the best. She deserves it.

In other news, a dear friend was reunited with her son today.  I am thrilled for her and as usual, green with envy.  He is “open and excited” at the idea of meeting her and since they live only a few towns from each other it will likely be very soon. As usual, its bittersweet for me. I am happy she shared with me. I want her to. I want all mothers who finally get to hold their children again to scream it to everyone they know.  Strangers in the grocery store, the 411 operator, whomever you encounter. Tell everyone. Show pictures and be proud.  Take back what was taken from you. Never hide. Not even from me.

Sadly, many people do.  They feel (understandably so) that telling me about their good reunions is rude for it may be rubbing my nose in my bad reunion. Trust me, you don’t have to tell me about your reunion for me to think about mine. It is with me daily.  So don’t hold back. Blabber on. I want to see you foaming at the mouth with the joy of finding your child. Do an Elaine dance while you foam.

And because I like the photo so much, I share this second photo, also taken today, of me and my darling Rich.

Godspeed to my niece and to my friend on both of their new phases of life.

I am kinda done for now on the whole gay/queer topic.

This is largely due to the ridiculous and yet, at times amusing, commentary my daughter and her girlfriend have received and answered via my daughters formspring.  It feels a bit like a train wreck where you feel compelled to look (read) but it is unsettling and you want to look away because it is unsettling yet you still look.  I really don’t want to read because part of me really would prefer to hear those things directly from my daughter and reading them just seems to rub my face in my reunion much like a person would rub a dogs nose in their own feces.  Its not appealing or productive. I also, oddly feel like I am some kind of peeping Tomasina or something.  It is just odd.

Next topic.

I am going to be using this blog to process my feelings related to my daughters sexuality “outing”.  If you are disturbed by this, I am not sorry (LOL). . I hope you will at least hang around to read for perhaps you will learn something about others, the younger generation, perhaps even your own child.

I know in the few days since I learned the news I have learned much. I want to archive and at the same time share what I am learning and others are sharing. One such example comes via  the text of an email I received from a blog reader/friend. I wont give too much detail into her identity as she would rather not be further “outted”. I do have her permission to share the below.  I encourage you to open your mind and consider what she has to say.

(Did anyone besides me find it strange that so few people commented on this topic? Should I take that as a sign of reader discomfort or should I perhaps assume maybe my readers aren’t all here yet due to my platform change? Regardless, I do find the lack of commentary on this recent topic to be very telling. Equally so that many wrote me privately but would not comment here. No judgement from me, just general observation and the usual over analysis by me. But right, my friends words..)

She said:

There is a very newish culture of gender / sexuality coming about where people just don’t want to identify with any of it. For example, technically speaking, I am a woman, and I am bi-sexual. But, when I start talking deeply about myself to another person who understands, I don’t really identify with a gender or sexual preference. I’m not a woman or a man, or transgender, or androgynous (though it most closely resembles what I am) but, the fact is that gender roles tend to define all of these. Butch lesbian or femme lesbian? Masculine gay man or fairie gay man? The thing is… is that most people are a combination of “masculine” and “feminine” traits. And, historically, most of the ones that are perceived as negative, come with a label. Women who are assertive are a bitch. Men who are sensitive are pansies. And, humans are amorphous, one day sensitive, the next hard inside. We are flexible, striving to be authentic, and finding that these labels tend to restrict us. Some of us accept some of them, but many of us, secretly or out loud, refuse to define ourselves this way. In a patriarchal system, it is all so negative.

In terms of sexuality… when a person does not fit in to a gender, how can one say what one’s sexual identity is? If some days I feel like a man, and I’m attracted to men, am I gay? If one day I feel feminine and am attracted to a woman, am I lesbian? If one day I feel a bit of both, and am attracted to men or women, does that make me bi? And, what if I am attracted to others who also do not identify with a gender? Well, if there are only two genders, than bi-sexual is also limiting. And, to identify as any one of these sexual preferences, limits one’s ability to change.

It limits one’s ability to be attracted to a person, rather than a gender. Identifying as a gender limits one’s ability to freely associate with all human traits.

The above paragraphs educate, intrigue, and simultaneously mystify me.  I have more to say, much more, but for now, I will leave you to chew on the above. And maybe comment? (Comments of disagreement are welcome provided they are respectful. I encourage differing opinions).

Spent the day with a dear friend today. She is in the picture below (left) and I am right. She is one of the many Easter House adoptees I helped to reunite.  She, like me, has not had an ideal reunion but she has no regrets in her search and is glad she found her mother.

I am personally glad I found her and was later able to find her mother for her.  Having friends like her, friends who “get it”, friends that you can cry and scream and rant about adoption with, make the pain much less.

Love you GF!