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’m having one of those days where I just can’t seem to put my feet down anywhere.  And, I need to.  I have plenty to do–plenty of work to do, plenty of people to work with . . . .  I just need to get some thoughts out of my head.  I already did my running for the day, so I’m thinking it’s not a physical need.  It must be an emotional/intellectual need.

What triggered it?  My husband.  He is about to begin his busy season, and I can see the pressure in his face.  He becomes preoccupied.  He carries stress.  He looks low and tired.

I want to be able to handle this again this year.  I want to be able to be supportive.  I don’t want to resort to separating myself from him in order to not feel “left.”  But, that feeling hovers over me.  I am more aware of it now–having gone through all of my birthfamily search, coming close to them, and then having no allowed contact with my immediate birthfamily . . . .  I am more aware of it now–having lived for thirty-seven plus years without facing that before I had been chosen, I had been given up/placed/left.  I am more aware of it now–having been married for eighteen years and recognizing damage we have both done to our relationship by separating both emotionally and physically.

I want to be able to be the wife I have always been–the one who can hold things together.  Actually, I still seem to be able to hold most things together–except myself.  The pain I feel over being rejected, on some days, is more than I can hold.

Today, I am breakable and vulnerable.  It snuck up on me.

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