You are special. You were chosen. Special. Chosen. Was I chosen or abandoned? For an adopted person chosen and abandoned are separated by a very fine line. Chosen sounds god like, doesn’t it? It sounds superior. I was not flung onto someone, they picked me. Didn’t they? They wanted me, but on the other side of that very fine line someone didn’t want me. Someone gave me away. I grew up with a subconscious of never being good enough - and as much as I tried to address it and as much as I tried to muster some resemblance of self-esteem, I could never really get there. On the outside, I seem fairly normal. On the inside, well, that’s another story.
I think to most I seem like a fairly well adjusted person. I have a college degree – two, even. This would imply that I am smart. Am I? I am married to a wonderful man. I have a lot of family – double or triple the family that most people have. I am a home owner. I wear decent clothes. I drive a decent car. I have been described as bubbly. I am beautiful – that is what he said – that is what they all said. Growing up, though, something always felt different. As normal as everyone tried to make it, I was different. I could not identify why or how or where the differences were, but I was different.
This post is for RS And DR. Thanks for all of the encouragement!