On Finding Myself

I spent years.  YEARS!  Running away from who I was. Am, even.  I did not want to be me.  I did not want to be a part of my family. I thought, I didn't belong.  I felt like an outsider looking in, an outcast, like there was something wrong with me. Did or does my family know something that I don't?  Why did my mother keep me in a  bubble, yet seem to despise me at the same time?

When I was about 11 or 12, we were walking home from the supermarket.  I don't really remember what we were talking about anymore.  But then she tells me that she has something to tell me and hopes I won't get mad about. I joyfully shouted, "I'm Adopted?!"  I'm sure I had a hopeful glee in my eyes.  I think I was smiling.  She looked at me and said, "No.  But close."  Well that left me a bit confused as you can imagine.  It was then she told me I had a sister, well half sister. She told me when, where she was born. Who the father was.  And her version of how she put her up for adoption.  Others corroborated the adoption story so I'll believe it.  She asked me if I ever had an inkling about it.  No! Of course not.  How could I?  She said my father used to bring it up in a drunken fit every so often.  Well, then how was I supposed to know???  When he would rant and rave it was always in Polish, which she made sure I didn't learn.  I can't tell you how disappointed I was that I wasn't the adopted one.  For a short moment, I had a glimmer of hope that I belonged somewhere else.

All my life, I was told what I couldn't do.  Can't be a nurse or doctor, you hate needles and blood.  Can't be a teacher, you hate school.  Can't do this, can't do that.  You're lazy, you're stubborn, you're just like your father.  I was always told all the negative she perceived me to be.  When I wanted to go to college, which wouldn't cost us a penny (community college + grants = zero cost).  Instead of supporting me, it was what do you need to do that for?  You don't need that piece of paper.  I went anyway.  I proudly maintained a close to 4.0 GPA and made the Dean's List.  That was until my Grandma got diagnosed with breast cancer.  Which was right after I secretly got married.  Then my grades went to shit and I ended up dropping out.

When I got married, I thought YES! Now I'll have somewhere to belong to.  But, that wasn't the case either.  That's whole other post entirely for another day.

So the cycle of who was I? Where did I belong? Continued. Twenty years of life with my mother. Plus another twenty years married to a narcissist. Six years of really trying to figure shit out.  I'm not a whole lot closer, but I am closer to it then I was.  I think. 

I am an individual.  I am a person.  I have feelings, I bleed, I hurt, I laugh, I cry.  I am enough, I have to be.  I am not just my mother's daughter, a label I have longed to shed for as long as I knew it existed.  I am not father's daughter.  I am a product of both of them.  BUT!  That doesn't define who I AM! I am ME! 

Who am I exactly?  Well, that's the adventure I am on.  I have been daughter, granddaughter, wife, mother.  Lover, friend. Nanny, caregiver.  But what about ME?  Am I an artist?  Am I a writer? Photographer?  All of that?  What about herbalist?  Healer? Who the hell am I?  Am I a warrior? Or am I a peace maker? Can I be both?  That's the journey I am on.

New Blog, But Not New to Blogging

Hi There!

So yeah, I have a new blog.  Another one.  HA!

I've been wanting to make one here for awhile now with my Forgotten Muse title.  So here it is.
I don't know yet what I intend to do here.  I think I want to use it to write out my thoughts, feelings, brainstorm ideas, vent, share triumphs. A place to share my art, writing, photography, maybe some genealogy.  What ever the mood strikes I suppose.

I'm just trying to find my way through life.  Figure out who I am, what I want, what my purpose is. 

Let the adventures begin!