Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Magenta ~ J. Marie



I began my reunion journey the year I turned 18. I knew nothing about where to start and was naïve about the task before me. I was nervous and scared but hopeful at the same time. I didn’t know where to begin. I had no information and the internet was not yet a way for adoption affected people to search for each other. As more time passed without any luck, I became angry and confused. Too many people flat out refused to help or told me I was ungrateful. Some were even people who supposedly loved and supported me.

When I managed, at age 22, to find my birth mom, half-siblings, grandmother, great grandmother, aunts, and cousins, I was elated. I couldn’t wait to meet them. And, I thought they were as excited that I found them as I was to find them. However, not long after my birth mom and I met for the first time, I tried to call her and found her number disconnected. Because I was aware that she had some financial troubles, I decided to mail a letter - believing that she just could not afford to keep her phone on. But, the letter was returned to me as undeliverable; MOVED – NO FORWARDING ADDRESS.

I also learned that my grandmother was not happy that I had returned and preferred that no one keeps in touch with me. Apparently, she and my birth mom had some sort of tiff with one another after I left our visit which caused my birth mom to do what she seems to do best – pack up and leave. This may sound judgmental but “running” has been a recurring theme with her for the last 20 years. I have had to search for her more than once and the connection never lasts – so I’ve finally let it go.

When my birth mom didn’t return the response card for my wedding I was disappointed, but I forgave her. I forgave her easily and still took time from my honeymoon (in the state where I was born and only a few hours drive from my birth mom) to drive to see her because I wanted my husband to meet her. When she didn’t show up - despite knowing when and where I was arriving and agreeing to meet there - I was very hurt. When my half-sister (who also lives in my state of birth) was getting married and asked me to be her matron of honor, I was excited – but - my birth mom threw her a bridal shower and didn’t include me; then I was pissed off. When I received no help from my birth mom regarding the identity of my birth father over the past 20 years, I was finally fed up. 

At the same time, I am blessed to have a half-brother and a half-sister who are interested in me; who do keep in touch and who do love me. Yet, I have aunts and cousins who barely acknowledge me.

DNA opened a whole new world for adoptees with little or no information on one or both birth parents. I had hoped things would be different when I found my birth father, two more half-siblings, my grandmother, many cousins, an aunt, and several uncles, at age 38.

Our initial meeting was good but tinged with an awkwardness I could not quite put my finger on. Most of my relatives seemed excited to meet me. I have cousins I keep in touch with and like very much while others seem uninterested. I have uncles that in all honesty, I just don’t care for and an aunt who is a little annoying but means well. My granny is wonderful and accepting; the complete opposite of my other grandmother. Unfortunately, I have two half-siblings who don’t seem at all interested in keeping a relationship with me. I wouldn’t say that they dislike or don’t accept me; they just aren’t necessarily interested in me. It hurts, but it’s just not worth me giving it any more of my energy.

Then, I thought we (my husband and I) had made plans with my birth father and his current wife to meet up in a nearby city to where we were vacationing. We had talked about it. They said they were interested. I even sent them messages about our plans throughout the months leading up to the event. The day we were scheduled to leave for this vacation, I saw a post on Facebook by my birth father about being in Europe to visit his daughter (my half-sister) and I knew we were about to be stood up. Despite emailing them the final details a week ahead of time, they had made other plans and did not bother to let me know. I “politely” called him out on his post and got an “Oops. Sorry.”, in response.

Once again… hurt, disappointment, and anger; even a tinge of jealousy toward my half-sister he chose to stand me up for.

Then, his older brother died suddenly and he must have been feeling sentimental. I got a message from him saying that he loved me. My heart wanted to soar, but my brain managed to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground because I knew better.

I don’t hear from him much these days. Even to say “rarely” is an understatement. I’m sitting on the fence between anger and numbness. I tell myself that I don’t care but it isn’t always true.

I am, however, fed up with DNA relatives always expecting me to come to them. I did the work. I searched. I found. I am the one who spent her time, money and mental energy… yet no one ever says, “I’d like to come to see you.” Or, “I’d like to meet the family that raised you.” Or, “I’d like to come to see where you grew up.”

Recently, on a return drive from a very short vacation, I was asked why I didn’t make a stop to see some of my birth relatives. Excuse me? I’ve driven hundreds of miles multiple times already to meet/see these people who have not once ever called/texted/emailed me that they would like to come to visit me where I live. Why am I always expected to go to them? Just because I am driving through or right past the town I was born in does not mean I am obliged to stop and see you!

There are so many feelings swirling around in one mess and so few words to describe it...

“Magenta…that’s what I call it when I get that way. All kinds of feelings tumbling all over themselves. Well you know, you’re not quite blue, because you’re not really sad. And although you’re a little bit jealous you wouldn’t say you’re green with envy. And every now and then you realize you’re kind of scared but you’d hardly call yourself yellow…I hate that feeling. Just hate it. And I hate the color magenta. That’s why I named it that. Magenta. No way to really explain it but, fortunately between friends you don’t have to.” ~ Blanche Devereaux, The Golden Girls

Yep. That’s EXACTLY what reunion feels like – for me.

J. Marie Jameson

Adoptee

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