For many years, I have held onto the weight of my biological family, not sure whether to let go- how to let go- or how to face it.  Part of me was convinced that I was okay with being adopted.  That I loved the life and person I had become as a result of being adopted.  That I was able to manage the fact that I had two families, two mothers, multiple sisters and brothers- only one of which I had ever actually met.  I had perpetuated a relationship with them over facebook, conversation and even visits as though they had never 'given me up' and I was raised in an entirely different world from them.  I had defended my relationship with them to anybody who felt I should have let them go.  I guarded what I had with them... because I was so afraid that giving them up...  would mean giving up a piece of me.  So, I went about my life living parallel to them- never truly intersecting...  only watching and waiting for the other to make the move...

The issue of my biological family has finally reared it's head and demanded it be dealt with. My husband forced their hand.  Called them out and they retaliated with all the fury and vigor I had come to recognize as my own... But instead of feeling relieved at their defense of our family...  our secret... our unspoken tragedy from all those years ago- I lashed back in defense of my husband.  How dare they step to him- how could they?  Without even coming to me first?  I was outraged...  So I tore at them- ripped away the facade that I had allow to exist between us and confronted them with the cold hard facts of all that I had been struggling with- all that I constantly torture myself with every single moment of every single day...  Anything that I had ever harbored toward them

 I have struggled with being adopted for my entire life.  This is perhaps due to the fact that I have known for as long as I can recall conscious thought- that I was adopted.  Not only that I was adopted- but that my biological family was still out there... waiting for me some how.  This forced a sort of baseless fantasy that they still wanted me- that I was never supposed to be with the family that I was living with- that I had been adopted by.  Never mind the fact that I was not mistreated, neglected, or wanted for anything deemed necessary to the health and well-being of a child as determined by social services.  I was not unloved- per se- and perhaps, I would have allowed myself to be feel more loved by my adoptive mother- had I not always had this secret nagging that I was merely waiting for my real family to bring me back home to them.

To Adopt or Not to

The 'John Stewart Show' was addressing the issue of abortion today. Mike Huckabee was on campaigning for pro-life. Utilizing the two-sided arguement that no one person has the right to own another human being- thus no one person has the right to end another's life. Regardless of whether or not the 'life' in question is that of a 21 day old fetus. Granted, I personally do not feel that I could ever bring myself to have an abortion. I don't feel that I could ever live with the pain of kiling my child for the rest of my life. HOWEVER- I do not feel that that is a choice I have the power nor audcity to make for any other person. Subsequentially, I do not feel men- those in positions of power nonetheless- should be allowed to make that decision for any woman.

A Dichotomy of Contradiction and Confliction

As with any situation, a dichotomy of sorts exists that allow for both contradiction and confliction. From an inital perspective, one could regard my life with the many gifts, insights, and opportunities I was provided. Unfortunately the very source of the above endowments could have also attributed to the various aspects of my life I am attempting to explore through this blog.
I was adopted by a single woman, of caucasion descent; through an open adoption from a Filipino family of ten. I was the ninth child, but the only one given up for adoption. I was raised overseas in both Okinawa, Japan and Heidelberg, Germany within military communities from the age of five months. I met and married a soldier and remain in Heidelberg. While I am a naturalized US citizen, I am very much a foreigner to US culture and society. I spent 9 months in college in the states and the culture shock was so profound I ultimately retunred to Heidelberg for, what I thought at the time, good. However, I am neither Japanese nor German- nor do I feel any cultural or national connection/similarity with them. In fact, I grew up with a very significant absense of any clear cut definition of identity. As any adolescent searches for their niche, clique, or place among the world in which they ultimately belong; however, my search proved long and futile. Instead I ended up with more questions than I started with... and no where in which to find the answers.
Please do not take me the wrong way- I fully love my life, the way it has ended up and all the tirals and tribulations that shaped, guided and pushed me to where I am today. Nontheless... a very large void still exists within my soul. A void that few if any can fully understand or even begin to empathize with. If any of you are out there... I would love to know what you think, feel, and any questions that may have plagued you, as so many have plagued me for as long as I can remember...