Alienation

My mother and I have been talking a lot lately about communication and why it's been so essential to the "success" of our reunion.

But is our reunion really a "success"?

Really, is ANY reunion of people separated by adoption really a "success"? How do you even begin to measure that?

Okay, let's look at the bright side. Confronting all these emotions, even sharing this blog, has been very healing for both of us. My mother has come out of the fog and is starting to learn how to feel again. I am learning how not to feel guilty for feeling. I have met three people - my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother, who I have grown to love dearly - not just because they are part of my flesh and blood, but because I think they are genuinely good people...people that I would be honored to know whether they were my own flesh and blood or not. Yes, in that department, I consider myself extremely lucky. They are worth every bit and more of searching hell - all 17 years, including the years that my mother refused contact because the fog had gotten her so bad.

I'm sure our little "reunion" would be perfect on Oprah or something. Oh look how WUNNERFUL it all is. Gee, we look SO MUCH ALIKE. My mother is continually amazed that the very same people who would have trashed her and thought she was a slut for getting pregnant would be the very same people who think it is so WUNNERFUL that we are reunited now.

Yet here I am, still a fucking alien. Here is my mother, still feeling like the Sainted Slut.

I shouldn't feel that way, should I? I got the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, at least in Adopto-Land. I am on the Path Of Healing. I am Out Of the Fog. I have Stopped Drinking the Fucking Kool-Aid. I Found A Great Family Who Loves Me And Accepts Me And Is Relatively Drama-Free. I don't have to hide from anyone. I don't have any half-siblings on my mother's side that don't know about me. My mother's husband actually seems to like me and like my son too. My aunt and my grandmother act like maybe I just went on an extended vacation or something and they missed me for a few years - I think it's their own way of coping with the weirdness. My adoptive family just chooses to ignore the whole thing, but both of my parents told me at one time that they were happy for me, and underneath all the hurt, I know they secretly still are. That could be a fuck of a lot worse.

So if my newly found family so readily accepts me, why the heck can't I just embrace them and stop alienating myself? I hate to use the term, but why can't I just be grateful?

I know why...because I have gotten too comfortable with being the alien. I'm not comfortable being on the inside. I don't really know what unconditional love is outside of my relationships with my husband and my son. When I first met my mother, I looked for similarities. Now sometimes I look for ways that we are different and use it as an excuse to alienate myself a little more. I can't bring myself to go back to Ohio again. It's too comfortable, therefore it's uncomfortable. One of the hardest things in the world for me to do is sit around the table and eat a meal surounded by people who look and act like me, people I don't have to struggle to find something to talk about with. People I don't worry about offending because we agree about almost anything, or at least see each other's logic chains and can very amicably agree to disagree with no hard feelings. It's stupid. That actually HURTS me.

It's awful in some ways, I think, having a "good reunion". It reminds me too much of what I missed. And I can think of about 1000 people who probably want to bitch-slap me for saying such a thing that would kill for the situation I've got.

Be that as it may, tonight I am feeling that deep, awful adoptee anguish again.

It's never going to go away, is it?