I have always loved to dance. As an adult adoptee, a bio mom, and an adoptive mom, I dance between love and loss regularly. I dance with joy over small victories and small signs of acceptance. I dance to escape pain and to avoid obvious rejection from my family(ies). Let me continue to dance with the pain, the understanding, the surrender, His plan, and not faint.

 I was always told that “your birthparents loved you sooooo much, that they wanted a better life for you . . . ”

My birthdad doesn’t love me.  When I saw him face to face, he glared at me and then looked away.  Glared at me and then looked away.  He then followed with a legal-type letter threatening me not to go any further with my visits/my search.

Did he glare at me when he saw me come out of my birthmom’s body that day?  Perhaps.  Did he not love me in that moment of my birth?  Did he not look tenderly at me in that moment?  Did he stare at me with that same glare he gave me when I stood before him as an adult woman?  Did his heart not hurt to give me away?  I want to know how he felt–from HIS mouth.

This affects me now:  If you look at me tenderly once, and then you don’t . . . that replicates this experience for me.


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