Hello everyone and how are you doing today? Today wasn’t a good day for me but I’m going to write anyway! I feel like it’ll help me get some weight off of my shoulders. The point of my writing style and this blog is to make it feel like you’re talking to a friend. And so from a friend to a friend, I need to get something off my chest.
Most people that know me, know this piece of information in my life, I never kept it a secret. And whether it be that someone asked me or it just came up in a conversation, I had no problem admitting that I was adopted. It’s not a frowned upon thing. It’s a special little situation but for most people it isn’t the best stories ever.
I’m a deadbeat cousin. When I lived back home in New Jersey, I spent more time with family friends than actual family. And when I would see my actual family at family events it felt like I didn’t belong. I still feel like I don’t belong. It’s tough for me now. I hope you guys are following this. I just feel like I have all these people in my life but I don’t know what they are. I feel such a huge disconnection to other people in my family besides my parents. Family gatherings were always awkward for me IDK. I was there for the Golden Retrievers. And I LOVE Golden Retrievers.
When I was in the second grade my mother and father sat me down and told me I was adopted. They made up some fairytale story about how they needed a princess so they travelled to another land to get one. That princess was me! I took it so literal that the next day of school, I went and told everyone I was a princess. The adopted part went over my head, I didn’t care. I thought I was a real life princess. So throughout all my life, I never gave a shit that I was adopted.
Of course I would get low key offended when I hear those “you’re adopted” jokes. And I sometimes would wish I knew where my nose and eyes came from. I just never really did anything about it until senior year of high school. An ex and I decided that it was a healthy decision to discover my birth parents. And with my parent’s hesitated permission, I was ready to see where exactly my roots came from. So with a little bit of deep internet searches, we finally found someone. It was my older brother. It’s funny because I always felt like I had an older brother when I was younger. Therefore I was more inclined to hang out with my family friend’s sons. So after finding him, I found my birth mother and my birth father.
I was happy and overjoyed that I now could see myself in these other people. But we were strangers and now that I saw them, I wanted to speak to them. I wasn’t going to send an angry message and ask “why did you give me up?” because I didn’t care. I already knew that there were some dark aspects of this adoption. Some of these people had some shady skeletons in their closets. I knew in a way, I get the gist of it. I just wanted to speak to them and get to know them for a little bit and take it from there. So I went and sent everyone a message. The responses took a while, I think either they don’t know how to properly use technology, or they didn’t know what to say. Then finally after two maybe three days people started sending me friend requests. It was my aunt’s and uncles. My grandpa. I never had a grandpa that was alive before! So that was exciting for me. I asked everyone questions about our nationalities and old family stories from like the 1800’s and what not. I wanted to know everything about my family tree.
There was a reunion and everything was cool. My brother and I started getting closer and we discovered a lot of similarities between us. Our lives and upbringing were just completely different.
Things changed though. Six months ago he was struggling and basically ran out of money. So I transferred $40.00 into his bank account. It’s not a lot but it’s straight out of my paycheck. I work really hard in my retail job and I don’t make a lot lol. I get an allowance and what not but this stuff is my spending money. It’s my makeup money basically, it’s how I treat myself. He only asked for twenty for gas but I decided since he’s going through a tough time and that I loved him, I gave him an extra twenty just to have for emergencies. Like when he needs to stock up the fridge, or whatever. I told him specifically to not buy alcohol or weed. He promised he wouldn’t and since I thought he would respect me, I didn’t think twice about it.
Just today he went off on me because I said his glow in the dark tattoo idea is stupid. Then he decided to tell me that he actually spent that $40.00’s on cocaine.
Do you guys reading this understand how disrespectful that is? He just lost the only person in his life that gives a shit about him and can actually help him. So I told his father, the one that raised him, and he basically doesn’t care, because he never answered me back. My brother told me he called before I could reach to him.
(I told him I was telling his father. Such tattle tale I know!)
Really that’s as much as I want to get into it, I’m not saying what these people said or didn’t say to me. I’m so fucking tired of these people my age abusing these stupid unnecessary drugs and thinking they’re at a higher standard than me. I don’t like being used. And I don’t like having my money messed with. And the worst thing is, is that he won’t care. He won’t care how much disrespect was thrown in my face. He won’t care that he lost his sister and only person that gave it to him straight and helped him out when no one else would. IT’S DISGUSTING to be quite honest. It’s also gross how my birth father doesn’t care lol. If you fuck people over like this please don’t read my blog and don’t look at me in public because I don’t want to know you. If you choose drugs over friends and family, I’m sorry to say this but you have a fucking problem and the people you’re using low-key hate you.
I decided that fighting with him was pointless and I blocked him from everything. Blood or not. I don’t know these people, I don’t want people to identify me by these people. My mother and father, Joy and John, raised me and I couldn’t be more proud for them. They raised a normal kid and that’s fucking awesome. Gold stars for you mom and dad because some of these kids are fucking ruthless.
So therefore this whole adoption thing has gotten quite sad in my life, in my opinion at least. I’m so beyond grateful I was raised by my parents. Like, they’re my angels. I’m not kidding. They saved me from a lot of tragic situations that I just know I wouldn’t have been able to handle. I’m such a sensitive person and I needed a life in which people actually wanted to have me. I WISH MY PARENT’S COULD’VE HAD A KID OF THEIR OWN. Because that kid would’ve been fucking awesome.
My life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies. Everyone is going through something.