I haven't made a new post in a while. A part of me has been afraid to write anything. I met my birth mom 7 months ago and I thought it was everything that I had ever wanted. I thought it was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. And then I started to unpack all of the emotions that came with reuniting with my birth mom.
The rest of my birth family still doesn't know about me. She hasn't told any of them yet. And, while I say that I completely understand why she hasn't done that, there is a part of me that yells, screams, that she hasn't done so because I'm not good enough. The same part of me that has been yelling that the rest of my life.
If you've been following along with my journey you'll know that from a young age I knew I was never good enough. For my adoptive parents, my birth parents, teachers, friends, myself. There was always something missing. I can look in a mirror and name off the reasons of why I'll never be good enough. It's not a ploy to get attention or anything like that, it's just the imperfections that I see in myself.
When I found out that I had a half sister, I was ecstatic. For as long as I can remember I had always wanted one. I would give anything in the world for her to know that I exist, but the chance of her ever finding out is small.
Each day is an anxiety battle of whether my birth mother tells the rest of my family that I exist or not. And, while I can tell myself and the world that I understand why she doesn't do so, there will always be a voice in my head yelling at me that I will never be good enough. That my grades or academic profile weren't good enough. My social skills weren't good enough. that myself, down to the core, wasn't good enough.
And, while I have friends that tell me to only live for myself. That trying to measure up to others is pointless, that the only person I need to be good enough for is myself, it's hard to believe. Because they'll never truly understand it. They'll never fully empathize with being given up by a birth parent. By being abandoned.
Most of the time I can put on a happy face and say that everything is going great, that slowly my birth mother and I are building a relationship and that I am putting myself back together. But deep down? Deep down I am broken beyond knowing what to do with myself. Deep down I don't know if what's left is worth saving.