So, . . . these things I know . . .
That’s it. That is enough to make me crazy(ier!)
Why can’t I talk to them? Why can’t I tell them “Wow!!! Good Job!”
That is exactly what I would do. Having completed three half-marathons on my own–fueled by the pain I felt of “no contact,” it absolutely blows my mind that my birth relatives would land where I land–pursuing running . . . .
I have a birth cousin who is married to a runner, even. 🙂 She is lovely.
I’m sorry. But it’s riDiculous that I am Genetically related to a WHOLE group of people who match me in several ways; yet, I am not welcomed or allowed to converse with them
PAIN. ANGER. SADNESS. Yes, Thankfulness for the friends and family all around me who invest in me daily.
I am both–I am my parents’ child and I am biologically their (my birthparents’) child. Why can’t they recognize that I am both?
For example, I am the mother who cares for Naika, but I did not birth her!!! I get this. She is mine through adoption, and God formed her in her mother’s womb. She carries the genes of her birth mom and birth dad (who we may never know). It is truth. I embrace it. I can be her mom in all ways possible, except in a birth mom sort of way.
It just makes me crazy that I can see the similarities in tastes, conversation styles, looks, interests, etc., and yet I’m supposed to pretend that we are not related.
#that’snuts #to me. :(((