Season 2: The Show Goes On

 

 




  It's good to be back. I've gone through some major life changes which pulled away from my blog for a while. I look forward to sharing some of those things here with those who will journey with me. If you're here, thank you. I appreciate that I can share my story with you. I titled it "Season 2", because a new reader said that it's like a television show. They're just joining me on my journey, so they are going to binge read "Season 1". I love that! So here goes Season 2....

  I was really careful after excavating the information about the incest. At this point, I approached my new found family members with caution. I sensed that my search was making others uncomfortable. This discomfort became glaringly obvious. Cousin Chloe texted me one day to ask me what high school I'd attended, and what was my maiden name. When I asked her why, she said that some of the younger family members felt that they may have gone to high school with me. She assured me that she was inquiring of this information in order to aid me in my search. That was a read flag to me. Something in me was like "This does not sound or feel right."None of this information would help her further my search. It was just more honey for the hive, more buzz for the bees. My biological parents would not have known what high school I'd attended, and they probably didn't know my adoptive parents either. I also couldn't figure out how anyone that went to high school with me would have been helpful to my process. I look back now, and giving her the information may have been harmless. But, at the time, it gave me pause. It gave me more than pause, it put me on alarm. Some of us adoptees can be quite afraid of anybody getting too close. I realized I was deeply afraid of someone traumatically altering my life again. Now this may seem extreme, but it was my fear at the time. So, I declined to give her the information, and then her end went silent. She would not say a word. I called and she would not answer the phone. I left her a message asking if we could talk. I was hoping that we could talk rather than text about such a heavy subject. But, we did not connect, and there I stood at a crossroads.
   I was hurt and disappointed. I was holding my search like a fragile glass menagerie. And, I had to decide if I was going to continue on, or slam it down and walk away from the entire process. I determined that my interaction with Chloe was but a lesson. She'd connected me with other helpful family members, and for that I was grateful. I allowed myself to feel the slight. I'd been reeled in to sharing something so personal with a complete stranger, and then she dropped me. However, I was not going to be deterred. As my elders would say "One monkey don't stop no show."