I was uncharacteristically silent on my blog three years ago when I reunited. I did not announce here that I had found my original family or that I met my original mother. I mused about events in popular media in blog entries during that time, staying far away from my personal narrative. I was frozen in silence from the shock of how real my story had become. I was balancing a complex spectrum of emotions which I couldn't imagine putting into words.
Two years ago, I told the stories of opening the envelope that contained my mother's contact information, contacting her for the first time, and of our first face to face meeting. What I had gained throughout that first year of reunion was confidence. What I had received from both families was the reassurance that I could view, interpret, and express my own story, even when it intersected with their stories, in my own voice. Today, I am taking those stories I told last year and I will view them and write them through new eyes for my book.
This month marks the third anniversary of my reunion with my original family. This time of year, I again feel the need to tell a story. At the close of this past semester, we were asked to go around the classroom and say what we had learned throughout our academic career thus far. My academic career corresponded with the beginning of many things: my activism, my writing/blogging, my reunion, my unsealed records, and finally embarking on the specific career path that I know without a doubt fits my passions and talents.
To express this to my fellow students, I told a short story.
"In my second class here, we were given an impromptu assignment that required us to talk critically about the families that raised us in front of the class. I left the room in tears. I could not do the assignment; I could not talk about my family in front of the class. I have grown. The conclusions in the very papers I've written have lengthened and developed. I've come to a place where I can pull back and see a bigger picture and give meaning to tough things"
I shared how I was confidently able to critically examine myself and my experiences in my application to graduate school. I felt sincere gratitude for the role that my professors and peers have played in giving me support and skills to grow personally and professionally.
I wrote this post because it was necessary in order to introduce the story. It would also would take away from the story were it to be included directly with it. So, sometime next week, whether here or at Lost Daughters, I will tell you that story. I hope you will join me and read along.