Getting started

It's not easy keeping a secret for 15 years. Being a teenager and making the decisions I had to make alone, you know in the back of your head that there will come a day of reckoning, where the secret will bubble to the surface one day. And you think, "I'll deal with it then" and dismiss the thought with naivete that your thirties are SOOOOO far away. You'll be older, wiser, more emotionally stable then. You'll handle it. And you move on.

Now I am that thirty something I passed the burden of this secret onto. I'm older, I'm wiser, I'm more emotionally stable. But when it comes to my reveal, my journey of facing exactly what I did, how I did it and admitting that, to my family, to my friends, and to the child I gave up, I'm still that terrified teenager. I know I'll be judged, unfairly by some. I know those I love will be hurt, disappointed at my actions. I'm supposed to be the responsible one. What I did might have been responsible, what I did was the best possible thing I could do at the time. I always stood behind that. But I know that will get lost in the questions that will be asked.

I'm not ready for this, to be honest, I don't know when I'll ever be. I've come so far within myself, taking the secret I so wanted to share, but was too scared to tell, buring it deep down inside because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. Fighting it as it rose up. Fearing the fact that it would come out. Wanting it to come out. Realizing that my secret cost me a realtionship with my little girl. Admitting I wanted that relationship. Admitting I had a child that I placed for adoption. Reaching out again to her family. Rebuilding that realtionship. And realizing that this was the most important thing I have done and will ever do.

I still struggle. I struggle with the fact that she is not ready for me yet. I struggle with how beautiful she is, how talented and how smart. I struggle with the fact that I can't experience her life with her. That I have to look from afar, that I can't know more. I struggle with the fact that her adoptive mother hasn't told her yet that I am interested in her. I struggle with the fact that I didn't keep the adoption open like we had planned to, and I hate the fact that this might have caused anyone any pain.

I struggle with the fact that her birthfather and I have such an awful relationship. I hate that he hates me. I hate that he put me in the position in the first place, and I hate that he is still a factor in my life, even though we are committed for life to other people. I hate what he did to me, how he treated me then and now. I hate that it bothers me so much. I hate that I want to reach out to him while I struggle with my own issues.

That's why I need this right now. Writing is the only thing I have ever known how to do. It's my therapy, my way of dealing with this. My friends, my fiance, they know, but can't possibly understand. They try, but I don't exactly let them. My relationship with my daughter's adoptive mom is just beginning to be rebuilt, it's too delicate to burden her with my issues of self exploration. I have my other birthmom friends, those who understand, but they don't know. They didn't know me then, they don't know my surroundings or my upbringing. They don't know the whole story from the beginning. I post, I journal, but some how, it just doesn't feel enough.

The only place to start, to get some clarity, is to start at the beginning. To get it all out, once and for all.

Welcome to my journey.