Friday, May 17, 2013

The Introduction to My Confessions (2)

There's so much detail of my story embedded in to my memory, so much that I think it goes beyond my memory, it's found inside the deepest parts of my soul. Growing up, I found that I had been gifted with a photographic memory which probably is tied into my ability to have a keen eye for the photos I take today. But, my photographic memory has felt at times more like a curse than a gift, I can remember hundreds of events from my past, my childhood that haunt me at my weakest moments.

I've always known I had a story to tell, although part of my conscience has always scolded me and reminded me that my story is nothing compared to those who have known true abuse. But, without justifying my reasons for telling a story, I've learned that 'abuse' is abuse, no matter what form it is. I've always looked at my childhood as a dark place, filled with so much confusion and hurt. I'm 30 years old today, and I've found healing, forgiveness and have overcome issues that were a result of the lifestyle I was forced to live in. But, I'm very afraid that as much as I've grown and healed, there is much more to be done and I fearfully question if I'm willing to take necessary steps to continue to heal. I know I can do it, I've come this far, but, I 'have' to keep healing and allowing myself to heal if I'm going to end this story with complete victory and triumph. As I tell this story in parts/sections, I want to remind readers that my aim and goal in telling the story is not to attack the people in my life that hurt me. Some of the people in my story have made it very clear that they have no desire for me to be in their life or to have a relationship with me. For this reason, I am able to go forward with my story as I cannot just sit and allow myself to keep silent while waiting day in and day out for any kind of relationship to form. As I mentioned, I am now 30 years old, almost 31, it’s time, time to be a voice for those who do not have one and come out with ‘my’ story, a story that sadly is the story of many out there. 
Also, let me state that as I tell the story, I am telling it as I remember it, I have no reason to lie about the things that happened, no need to exaggerate truth or facts. It is how I remember it, how I see it being played over and over again in my memory banks. Memories do not lie, they can't lie.
I have found that as I tell my story, many are coming forth from my childhood who are now validating what I'm saying. The story is true and what I share is truth, confessions that I must tell. 

Please also keep in mind that as I tell my story and portray and list issues that occurred, I am a HUGE advocate for adoption and I encourage it, but I want to encourage it for all the good that it can be for those out there that need a home and more than that, need a family to call their own. I will cover the positive side of adoption as I go along, I will cover tips and insights from those who have had successful adoptions, in hopes to help those who need advice and encouragement in their journey of adoption. With that in mind, let the story begin. This is my story and this is my song. 
Be Blessed, Inspire to Make A Difference!
~The Adopted Child 
 (To read the blog/story in order, read from top to bottom and at then click on 'Older Posts' found on the right hand corner at the bottom underneath the last blog post) 

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