French and who knows what else...

I often have the ostrich syndrome, the belief that if I wish hard enough, or hide my head in a hole, then I will somehow be...'normal.' Because opening myself up to the tidal wave of emotions that comes with being adopted, is hard. HARD. Harder than living in a 3rd world country or getting my Master's Degree. Emotions are tricky things, and I find that I am much easier at navigating the cerebral...

But yesterday, during my massage, the lovely Courtney (and if you haven't looked her up yet, you should, find her through the link Healing Nest on my page), performed reiki and my outbreaths let go of things like: shame, not good enough, closed off, unworthy, unloveable, unwanted, and on the inbreaths I took in: honesty, love, vulnerability. I'm working on opening my heart and making room in the nooks and crannies for all the various people in my life. My black and white thinking often doesn't allow for there to be more than one, like if I have one mom, I can't have 2 (and adding a third in the form of a MIL). But I can, and I do.

So with a heart open to possibilities, I shakily dialed the number and shakily spewed out "I was adopted in 1982 and I have reason to believe he is my birthfather" (like some episode of Law & Order), and there it was...me...talking to my birthfather Jim on the phone, for the first time.

The emotions are crazy overwhelming, because I already have a 'daddy,' but this man is 1/2 my genetic history and it was good to hear him say that a Dec. 13th didn't go by without him thinking of me, that when I turned 18 he updated his info at the agency so I could find him, and that he was 'so glad' I called. He even said he'd want to meet me.

What's great is that he's stable, married for 14 years, has 2 daughters (I mean, I have 2 MORE 1/2 sibs), and one of them is tall & plays basketball (this is the side of the family I get my height from I guess!). But silly as it is, the thing that stuck out to me the most, and it was good that I have been open and vulnerable and flexible...

Before the phone got disconnected I learned that his side of the family is French. This blows my entire life heritage of believing (because my parents told me this) that I am 100% Norwegian. The upside of this is I get to learn about a new country, as well as the fact that his father's side of the family has been in the country since 1620, in Jamestown...and this could possibly lead to there being some Native American blood ;) Not sure why I've always been obsessed with that, but there's much more likely a chance than my b-mom's side of the family which came from Norway like only 100 years ago.

So in order to stop sitting on the futon freaking out internally, I decided to do some art, which of course is adoption related...



And taking this open heart mentality I called my 1/2 sister and said I wanted to hang out, and I wanted to meet my b-mom, too, which is a huge step for me. Wowzers, so much emotion inside of me...

peace