I feel like I can’t genuinely come back without addressing the elephant in my room. Though no one has asked for this, its a truth I need to stand on in order to continue this journey to healing and living authentically as an artist.
But first, lets address what I’ve been up to.
I can’t believe it’s been two years since my last post. For one I learned that every piece of work you do, may seem insignificant or silly, but regardless of it being good or bad, each work is an opportunity for growth. To learn that my last post helped me land a job in my career field as a graphic designer, reminds me of all the tiny steps it’s taken to get where I am now.
I ended 2022 moving in with my “baby daddy” and we have been on quite the roller coaster ride trying to adjust. Especially me. The girl that was single till she found her self pregnant at 36 and lets be real has never been in a long term relationship. Why you ask. Well I was adopted. And perhaps there are plenty of adoptees who have healthy relationships and are perfectly content and happy. That’s fucking awesome.
That, I am not. I’m the girl in every fucking movie that makes fun of the girl who has abandonment issues and is unwilling to settle down, and runs away from a perfectly healthy relationship, with a tendency for substance abuse. As my partner just told me, I’m MJ from the newer spider man movies. To which I say, well I’m glad you finally fucking get it. Though I’m ten times cruder, have a mouth that would rip a sailor to shreds and anger that could conjure the devil. exhale.
Which i know, hang with me here. I had to take a hard look at myself. Why am i so angry. I can’t be like this for my son. Why am i hurting so much. There were unanswered questions that have plagued my whole life but having my son made me realize how much i was hurting. Call it postpartum, call it a nervous break down. I found my self paying for a dna test.
So yea. This past year has been a crazy roller coaster ride of self discovery, therapy, embracing my truth, speaking it aloud and an attempt to break free from the silence of it all.
It’s been suffocating. Still is in some ways. Because I don’t feel like I can speak authentically about it. Afraid I’ll hurt my a-moms feelings, afraid she’ll see this. Just afraid, and angry. Then you think finding the truth will help and it just leaves you just as paralyzed as not knowing. Grappling with truth. Finding forgiveness and understanding.
So as I restart back on this journey (where we divulge or deepest secrets to the abyss of the internet), while sharing my creative journey and passions as an artist. I leave you with a quote from the amazing book, Brown Bohemians, Landene Clark, “I allow my creative voice to speak when I am silent… It’s through my own sense of self-acceptance that I deal with, and combat the negativity.”
I have felt silenced for so long. Afraid to metaphorically speak, to show up, pen in hand and ready to draw, to tell my truth.
I can no longer be silenced by the truth of my adoption.