(Originally published: July 2009)
When I began this blog, I viewed it as a way to give myself a voice; a voice which has been up until recently, stifled, ignored, shut down at all cost. I have always loved journalling and writing; using words to convey how I feel. For a long time, after losing Amber and after a previous trauma in my younger life, this part of me shut down. I had a block, words just wouldn’t string themselves together the way they used to. When I did start to write again, I cared to much about what people thought about my words, how I conveyed the deepest parts of me. In sharing myself this way, I felt I was giving others the power to hurt me. Until now.
Now, I realise, the only power they have is what I allow them to think they have. And that is zilch.
I realise it has been some time since I posted anything here. I have had a rough month, in fact, I have been down to my lowest points again, to the point where I experienced the longing to cut again, to see the beads of blood along my arm to prove I was still alive, still breathing. I managed to resist this urge and came out of my ravine. What plunged me there? How did it come to be that I sunk so low, so very, very low that it was scary low?
About six weeks ago, I took a deep breath and decided to share my blog with my non-adoption world; that is to paste links to my story on my normal Facebook page. My reasons for doing this were to share with friends whom I haven’t been in touch with for a long time and wanted to know what my life has been like in the last 10 odd years, an explanation without needing to find the mental energy to do it several times. I also wanted to be brave; to show my other side to those I see almost daily.
In doing this, I totally forgot, that out of several thousand words, a couple of lines briefly mentioned one person, NOT by name, who had been very pushy with the adoption, although in her eyes, she sees her actions as supporting a decision I apparently had already made. This person was also connected to me via Facebook. Given her views on my situation and the case, I didn't think she would ever bother reading the link... not that I even had her in mind when I posted on Facebook! But read it, she did.
Without compassion or asking how she had been so hurtful, she sent me an email defending herself, telling me to change my story. Not only that, she went through my mother first which really angered me.
I did not respond to the email she sent me, I was in shock and the further I tried to sit on it and do nothing, the angrier I became. Then I asked myself why was I so angry? How did this have such a devastating effect on me to the point it hindered EVERYTHING I did? I mean, yes, she did have a minor point in her email but why were her words so harmful? Then I realised. It clicked. What she was doing now, pushing HER feelings on me, telling me how to feel, what my experience had been and omitting her very real part in my ACTUAL story was doing the same thing she did to me all those years ago when I was vulnerable and pregnant and alone.
SHE WAS TAKING AWAY MY VOICE, MY POWER and that is what angered me more than anything else. Infuriated me and yes, I am still angry for she represents all who do this and refuse to see their part and take responsibility for their actions in other’s lives. While I don’t question her intentions were not malicious because I don’t think they were; (many did not have nasty intentions, they were mistakenly doing what they felt was right) I am enraged after reading the full account of what happened to me, she could not take herself out of the situation for one moment and see someone else’s pain, see the experience of another human being who has suffered. Instead, all she cared about was herself. Her name was never mentioned, no one would have known it was her yet still all she could think about was two lines out of hundreds... all it does is confirm how correct I was in my original estimation of what really went down.
People have to come to terms with the fact there are consequences to their actions, their words. They have to see that sometimes, “The greatest Harm can result from the best Intentions”. This well meaning person forgets that she played more than one part in my story and I do not have the energy to argue with her about the part she played in my experience. Because at the end of the day, it is my story, my journey. My daughter that is lost and not hers. This is why I am taking back my power. I am sharing this with everyone because it happens to all of us at some point when those who do not want to accept responsibility try to shut us down or make us change the facts. We can’t change what happened to please others, to make them feel better. We shouldn’t have to either.
So, in closing this post, I want to offer a word of advice for ALL who read my posts. This is MY VOICE and I will post what is pertinent to my journey. If you don’t like it, tough, I don’t make you read here, that was your choice. If you have appeared in my account and can recognise yourself and don’t like that representation, again, TOUGH. Karma is a bitch they say...
I don’t do this to be unkind but I have had enough of being told what to do by those who think that just because they are older than me they feel they have the right to dictate to me. I lived that my whole life in the church. “Respect thy elders”... what a lot of good that did for me...NOT.
So I am taking back my power and I don’t care who likes it or not.