Dear Ms. Feverfew –
Well, actually I don’t know if I am your mother’s worst nightmare or not but I certainly know I am a nightmare scenario for some adoptive mothers out there. Maybe a more appropriate title for this would be “I am Some Mother’s Worst Nightmare.”
Why, you might be wondering?
Because I am a mother who has found her voice. Because I am writing with the “freedom of those who are marginalized to the establishment” and “with the zeal of those who are creating and affirming themselves by writing” (Rainer, 1997, p. 28). Because I write with complete abandon. Because I have already lost you, I have nothing to lose by risking it all.
Not only have I found my voice, but I have found my backbone. The truth is it is was there all along but the lies of my parents and my culture were a scoliosis of the soul. I am no longer the scared 20-year old mother who kowtowed to her culture and priesthood leaders. I am a fully mature woman, intelligent, articulate, and well-read. I am a woman who has plumbed the depths of her spirituality and discovered a spine straightened and steeled by the Father’s love for her.
Not only have I found my voice and my backbone, I am not going away. I am no longer willing to sit in the back of the bus. I am no longer going to hold the coattails of the adoption industry. I will tell my story until it is all told. My hope is that in telling my story – in speaking my truth – it may be a pathway for other mothers and adoptees to tell their parts of the story we call Life. Each of us has a unique and valuable contribution to be made to the Truth–the world needs our wisdom, our life experiences, our truth. “Although each of us gets a different life story–a different piece of the puzzle–our tribe needs the wisdom of us all for the truth to emerge” (Rainer, 1997, p. 36; emphasis added). The long arc of justice demands the scales be balanced–telling my story is part of the balancing.
There is a certain raw, unbounded beauty in the liberating experience of “becoming fierce with the truth” (Rainer, 1997, p. 97). I hope you can discover this beauty yourself someday.
Oops. Forget the reference. Here it is.
Rainer, T. (1997). Your life as story. Penguin Putnam, Inc: New York.