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[fearoftheunwanted]

#4 01/23/2022

Alright alright so I know it’s been a while, that’s my b. 

I’ve been pretty down lately. Holidays are tough for me, but they’re over and I’m trying to do this “functioning human” shit again.

As has the average human lately, I’ve been obsessed with Encanto. I’ve watched it 7 times now, which I know others have watched it more, but that for me is a lot of times to watch a movie within about a 2 week span.

It makes me happy.

But it makes me sad too, of course. *Obviously spoiler alerts if you haven’t already seen it, in which case, quit slacking! Lolol* Mirabel feeling like an outsider in her family for not having a gift. Her wishing for a chance to prove herself. 

Obviously my situation is a bit different, since I’m not lacking a gift, I’m literally lacking the genes to belong in my family. 

The feelings that this movie has brought up has made me want to write about what I would consider one of the worst and weirdest days of my life.

The day I met my biological father and his side of the family.

So, just as a quick background story to this story. I’ve lived in Tennessee for about 13 years, but am from Michigan. Most of my family still lives in MI, including my bio father and his family. Which actually, during this trip I realized that I grew up for the first like 10 years of my life within about 5 miles from where he lived. Which was insane to learn. 

But anyway, I was going up to Michigan in October of 2020 for a very small wedding, my cousin’s wedding. Which was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. 

Anyway, my sister who is actually just one of the foster kids my parents had a long time before me, who’s just remained a part of the family. She’s I think somewhere around 40? I honestly don’t even know. My sister who, in the weeks leading up to my coming to visit, called me and talked about how excited she was to see me and that it was going to be like a sleepover and she just couldn’t wait. I hadn’t seen her since my other sister’s wedding in summer of 2015. From the adults in my family, I’ve never experienced such…eagerness to see me, to be around me, to know me. It’s something I get hung up on all the time, I’ll just sit and think about it and it’ll bring tears to my eyes. Welling up just writing about it.

So I was staying with her for a few days before going to the wedding, and I took this opportunity to message my bio on Facebook, and tell him that I’d be visiting if he wanted to meet. Which he acted excited about. We made plans to have like a little cookout at his house with his side of the family. My sister had been trying to ask me how I felt about going to do that and I just didn’t really have much to say, I was excited, nervous, terrified. I had talked about it with my old therapist right before going and told her I was scared it wouldn’t be everything I hoped it to be.

I pulled up to the house that day, and I saw him. He was standing over by a car parked in his yard with his oldest son, and someone I didn’t recognize. I sat in my car for a minute watching them, they weren’t noticing me. I shakily got out of my car, and stood there for a minute and they still weren’t seeing me. I literally wanted to jump back into my car and speed the fuck out of there. I was embarrassed. Then I can’t remember who saw me first but they came over and I think my bio hugged me? I can’t remember exactly. But slowly more family started showing up, more of his kids, their kids. His sister maybe? Some woman I knew from Facebook but didn’t actually know the exact relation between them.

So, at this point I’m thoroughly awkward and kind of standing alone at the back of the aforementioned car. It was kind of like… Have you ever been invited to a party by a friend, but you don’t know anyone else at that party, and then that friend ditches you? But for whatever reason, you can’t just leave. So you kind of pick a spot and stay there, and people may kind of walk by and chat with you briefly, in passing. But otherwise you’re just kind of sitting there thinking “Why am I even here? I shouldn’t be here.” They were having this entire cookout because I was there. I was technically like the guest of honor, I suppose. No one was paying attention to me. And it’s not like I wanted them to all be standing around me bombarding me with questions and stuff but, i don’t know exactly what I was expecting. 

I guess, in my head for 23 years I had built it up to replicate shit that I saw on tv, you know? Finding that long lost relative, running and hugging them. Crying. Talking about how your entire life you’ve felt like you were missing something, and here it was. 

But that’s not how it went. It felt so casual, too casual. Like this was something they did every couple of months with another random kid. All these expectations I had put on that first meeting, which admittedly was I guess pretty naive of me. It was an extremely crushing feeling of disappointment. 

Needless to say, when it came time to leave, I was ready. I stayed for several hours, until it was dark and my sister was texting me worried. When I got back to her house she was asleep I think, but I remember telling her that my bio took me for a ride in his caddy that he had just bought (the car they had all been standing around when I first pulled up) and she was flabbergasted that I trusted him to do that. (him and his side of the family are kind of…sketchy) But I thought eh, what was he gonna do? I was already at his house, where would he take me if he decided to take off, ya know?

Anyway, that's pretty much a recount of events of the worst and weirdest day of my life. I can’t even remember if I’ve cried over it, I’m sure I have. But it’s something I don’t think about a whole lot because it really saddens me. 

Soooo, that’s all for now, sorry this is supes long. Probably gonna take some time after this to cry. Definitely going to be bringing it up in therapy this week…

Til next time ✌🏽

[fearoftheunwanted]

#3 12/10/2021

Anyone else have a hard time watching a lot of tv shows and movies? There’s always some plot line about how important and never ending family is.

I remember being a kid and watching Rugrats in Paris and when Chuckie is sad about his mom being dead, and feeling that same sadness. Him watching everyone else dance with their mothers. Feel alone and like an outsider. Even with the 3 parents I had at that time, alive and well, I felt like I was living that pain. And I was very young at that time. To this day the song “Go the Distance” from Hercules gives me chills and makes me tear up. I mean literally just the opening line “I have often dreamt, of a far off place. Where a great warm welcome will be waiting for me. The crowds will cheer, when they see my face.”

I think growing up I must’ve associated that with one day being welcomed in by some part of my biological family. Even though sadly, little me didn’t realize that 23 year old me wouldn’t have such a sentimental first meeting with her biological father’s side of the family. That’s a story for another day though.

I remember being in middle school, and being in choir. We were doing one of the songs from Annie, Maybe. I had never heard it before. It broke me. To think and dream of a mom and dad who loved each other, and show it with actual affection. And genuinely provided warmth and comfort to their children. It’s really sad, and it’s sad that I had to think that even though I had parents. I hate that anyone has ever felt that way ever. It sucks, it hurts, it literally burns a hole into you and your self worth.

The show that I struggle with the most lately is the show “This is Us”. It’s a fantastic show, don’t get me wrong. Outstanding acting, and a story line that at best for most viewers, tugs at your heartstrings while you’re watching it. But then you turn it off, and it’s over. Not for me. When I do watch it I have to go literal months between watching episodes because it tears me apart. I get that it’s a drama, and a sappy emotional loving drama. About family, adoptive and blood. About how there is no stronger bond than family, and that as long as you have family, you can get through anything and everything. **Spoiler Alert** Last time I watched was when Randall was finding out about his mother. His mother that apparently had not actually passed away from a drug overdose as they lead you to believe up to this point, lived a long challenging yet beautiful life. And of course had nothing but love for her estranged son. And he finds this all out seasons after also having met his bio father who also loved and cherished him.

Like cmon, really? As if that’s realistic AT ALL. I know it’s possible and very real that many people give up kids for adoption, not because they don’t love them, but because they don’t feel fit to raise them. But to me, to be a kid that’s product of a drunken one night stand, both parents having drug issues, one not really knowing you existed for most of your life. And another who was always around but never put a single OUNCE of effort into knowing you? That’s all bullshit. And I obviously know it’s tv but watching that shit literally makes me spiral. Why couldn’t I have had just one, JUST ONE out of the 4 parents I ended up having, love me like that? Love me like a fairytale, love me like their world actually revolves around me and that they’re just so lucky and happy to have had me.

I know that I can’t have this as a crutch forever, but it is something that will forever be this cloud over my head. To be raised in this world without any nurturing, to be emotionally stunted at such a young age. I can guarantee that I will never get to a point in my life where I don’t lay in bed late at night and sob at would could’ve been. To have the support of a family.

Just as a side note that always gets me upset, I was in choir throughout my school ages a total of 6 years, that’s 12 semesters. I don’t even know how many concerts I did in that time frame. My mom might’ve been to one or two when I was in middle school because she had to drive me, but even then I’m pretty certain she just dropped me off and picked me up. My dad came to one in high school I remember but it was because my niece begged him to take her. Which she did then follow me and do choir in high school too.I played a few sports very briefly in middle school, basket ball and swimming and cheer. Not one game, meet or event. I only remember being dropped off and then picked up afterwards.

I wish they could know how that hurt me, and hurts me to this day.

I talk with my therapist about it nearly every session.

Anywayyyy, that’s all for today. I think I got enough out that I can relax my shoulders for a little bit.

Until next time ✌🏽

[fearoftheunwanted]

#2 12/5/2021

It really sucks being a giver when all you’ve ever known is takers. Just once I would like even just a little bit of effort put into me that I put into others. I’ve talked about this at great length with my therapist and with my boyfriend, but it never seems to actually get better.

I spend so much of my time thinking of others. And what I can do for them or what I could say to them to reassure them that I love and care about them. I’ve played the therapist role, I’ve played the hero role, hell I’ve even played the punching bag role for nearly everyone in my life. But a lot of the time I feel like I don’t have anyone I can really reach out to. Everyone’s got their own shit going on. Everyone comes to me with said shit, which on one hand I really do love. I love that people trust me and care what I think and know that I’ll lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. I really do treasure that. But I want that too. I want to feel like I could break down to someone and feel the unconditional love and support that I provide them with.

I’m never first for anyone. No one in my entire life has ever put me first. I love my boyfriend, I really do. He’s my person and I would do anything for him. But it’s something he struggles with, showing me the same. And not because he doesn’t feel it, because he just was never taught how to respond to someone’s love, with love. Which I was never taught either, so I’m really not sure why I’m even the way I am.

But most of the time I feel so easily brushed aside by everyone in my life.

That’s probably something much more deeply rooted, huh? Being adopted and all. My bio mom has two more kids, two kids whom she did not sign her rights away on. Two kids whom she got her life somewhat together enough to work and provide for. I genuinely couldn’t tell you how old my little brother is right now, though I think it might be somewhere around 20? So he’s only a few years younger than me. So it’s not like I’m those few years my bio mom went from being a 17 year old with no idea what to do, to being a 20-ish year old with her shit together. But I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worth the effort. And my bio dad didn’t even have a clue I existed until I randomly messaged him on Facebook when I was like 12. He’s got so many kids by so many women that it doesn’t really matter that I exist.

But back to the neglect I feel from my friends, so essentially I’m a doormat. I’m a stepping stone. People step on me to get where they need to be but they rarely look back, they rarely thank me.

I give and I give and I give. But in the few instances where I’ve felt like I needed to take? I either just don’t because I feel like I’m not allowed to. Or I do it and then I’m looked at as selfish. Ever notice how when takers occasionally give it’s seen as this grandiose,out of character miracle? Like oh wow, who knew you were capable of such!

But when givers occasionally take, they’re selfish. They’re greedy. They’re unreasonable. It’s incredibly infuriating.

I’ve spent nearly the entirety of my life being a pushover. And this isn’t one of those cliche moments where I tell you I’m done doing that and I’m going to stick up for myself and become a new person. Because realistically, I’ll probably always be like this. Maybe I’ll get it right in my next life?

I just, I see these people with these fantastic family’s and friends. People who support them and cherish them. I want people to be there for me. I want people to root for me.

I just want family, ya know?

I want to walk into a room and feel that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing everyone in that room loves you endlessly.

Oh, that reminds of the topic I want to touch on next time. I should probably write it down somewhere before I forget.

Anyway, that should probably be all for tonight lest I start to truly spiral.

Goodnight friends, stay safe out there.

See ya ✌🏽

[fearoftheunwanted]

#1 11/25/2021

I don’t even remember how young I was when I felt unwanted for the first time.

Being adopted is hard. I know for a lot of people it’s a blessing, a godsend really. And I’m sure that’s the case for a pretty good percentage of people who are adopted.

Those who go to the families who prayed, screamed and cried, mourned the loss of not being able to have children of their own. Or those who go to families that did have biological children, but are maybe empty nesters and feel they have more to offer.

Those who go to families who *wanted* children. For sentimental reasons.

What’s that like?

Not me, not my family.

Here’s a little bit of background on my situation.

My biological mother was 16 years old and in foster care when she got pregnant with me, at a party, so I’ve heard. 17 years old when I was born.

Her at the time foster parents adopted me, I guess out of convenience? I’m not sure who asked who or what happened honestly, I’ve never asked and never been told.

So I’ve always known I was adopted. And my bio was around quite a bit when I was a young child. I’d go stay at her house sometimes, though I have very little recollection of those times. It would be confusing growing up because we’d both call my mom and dad, mom and dad. Because to her those are also her parents. I believe they were her last foster family before she turned 18.

So, my parents were in their 50s when they adopted me. They had several biological children that were in their 30s already. They had one adopted son, and had had a slew of foster children before me. I think there was only 2 that were still around when I was very very young, like less than 5 years old. I can’t really remember.

So, on that note, we can talk about one of the biggest things that separates me from my family. I am half Mexican on my bio father’s side.

My entire adoptive family is white, which should be and probably would’ve been fine with a different family. Something I didn’t fully realize until I was in my preteens, my parents are incredibly racist.

When I was young and in school, and we’d have to fill out those forms where you check off what race/ethnicity you are? She’d always tell me to check white.

Which I didn’t start checking Hispanic until just a few years ago, honestly. It really confused me, she would act as it why would I want to check anything other than white? Why would I want to BE anything other than white? Very confusing for child, still confusing as an adult honestly.

I think that’s something I’ll always struggle with, being raised by prejudice white people who didn’t teach me anything of my heritage. Being too white to be Mexican, and too Mexican to be white.

Well hey, I think that’s as deep as we’ll dive for right now. We’ll pick this up later.

See ya ✌🏽

[fearoftheunwanted]

Hey there, so this is something I’ve never done before.

I’ve wanted to share my thoughts and feelings while I navigate this rough world, for a long time now.

I know there’s people out there that could relate to what I’ve been through and continue to go through. I wish that as I grew up I had some sort of awareness that I wasn’t alone. That’s what I want to provide.

Join me, and we’ll get through this together.

Promise 🖤