for the last weeks, maybe months, i have been up to something, well, kind of bold, for me. i started to write about my story here on these cyber pages. i called it becoming. the process of starting to write so vividly about who i was and who i am now asked me to ride deeper into my own story. it is the reason i have not continued with writing those stories out loud. i am writing them. i have just been doing it while quietly sitting alone in the sunny spot of my favorite coffee shop. sometimes i just sit there and think and then actually push myself to do something i thought i would never do.
i am looking for my birth mother.
wow. i can hardly believe i actually typed that statement for now more than only me and mine to know. i am writing it here so i will remember when i actually had the courage to make myself so very vulnerable. and then there is the slight chance that my birth mother or sibling or someone who knows me might actually read these silly pages. that would be wild. maybe it would scare me. it actually makes me laugh to even consider the scenarios.
it happens to also be that i am reading a book where the main character searches for his father. i had no clue this would be part of the book. of course. everything in our life is moving. and everything was meant for these days.
i am not sure what more i will write here about searching for her, the one who carried me under her heart. she has a story to tell. i have a story to learn. maybe one day we will have that conversation. and then, maybe not.
when i am not writing here, rest assured i am sitting under warm sun flare somewhere, organizing and stringing words together. it is the offering i have to give.
love,
d
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