It’s kind of a beautiful epidemic

Alright- So.

You made it to my second entry (and if this is your first time to my site please take a moment to read “The words I tried to say”) Which is the preface to my blog as a whole.

I debated back and forth trying to decide if I should go straight to the nitty gritty or do something a little more “polite” if you will.

But then I would be going against everything this blog is meant for. So I will swallow my fear and just jump right into it.

Often there is a moment in time that sparked a realization that then, brought into fruition a deeply rooted passion.Other times it is just a matter of being told “no” or “that’s not true” or “you can’t do that” But for me- I’d say it was a mixture of both .

So growing up people would ask, “Where are you from?”

I would say.. “Jackson Mississippi. I lived there 7 years, Kentucky 4 and Ohio 12.” I’ve rattled that sentence off so much as if I  got paid every time I said it. I would keep it simple in hopes the conversation would quickly change…and some people either would respond with “Are you an army brat?” or “Man! just keep working your way up North don’t you? What’s next? Canada?”

I just respond with “No, I’m adopted.”

after a weird silent moment- not awkward or rude, just a different kind of silence. They would say “Oh, that’s cool.” Because they clearly can’t think of anything else to say

of course- me being the worst at faking things I would just go

“….yup.”

in a way that clearly said “No its not, you insensitive ferret!”

Well then it was just a slippery slope down hill from there because being adopted is not cool. It’s not cool by any means. If you were adopted into a picture perfect family I guess it would be a little cool. like way cool. But why would it be cool to have 5 different dads- a sister that was like an in home bully and a mother who threatened your life and…oh wait. It’s not polite for me to bring that up right? I’m getting ahead of myself (hi adopted mother- are you reading this? Oh that’s awkward…the truth isn’t pretty is it?) Anyways–we will save that for another day. *ooo tension rises in everyone reading- did she really just say that…YUP*

Okay- so as you can imagine, being adopted and moving as much as I did you get real good at introducing yourself. You always give your audience the choice of the short edited version or the long soap box version. Most of the time they chose the latter unless they were an employer and you some how misunderstood his question and get into a big schpeal about your life and he says “Sorry I just meant tell me your story as in- educational, carreer etc”

Ya, I did that.

Anyways back to what I was saying.

Why do I call them an audience? because by the time I’m done with my narrative, I constantly got the “You should write a book!” or “This really needs to be a movie.”

So at the core of you there is an identity right? Like you are either a sporty person, an equestrian, a singer, a skater etc you get the point. We all have identifiers. Well all of my life I was the ‘girl with the story’ and if it wasn’t that stigma it was the ‘girl with the long hair’ or the ‘crazy horse girl’ or my personal favorite is “Jesus Freak” –why is that my favorite? because that meant I was doing my due diligence as a Christian.– [at least that was my perspective\please don’t take this as fact]

But imagine with me for a second. Imagine any friend group, social group, or team. In each group you can pick out one person (if not 15) who grew up with a not so normal upbringing. Such as raised by their grandparents, adopted, divorced parents, abuse, neglect, etc.

Now take a step further. Imagine that you are that person. [[don’t waste your time- you can’t, none of us can truly ever imagine the life of another- isn’t that why we say “I can’t even imagine” so yes it was a rhetorical request]] On the other hand maybe you are that person-like me. And if that is you, Hello friend! I’m writing to you and for you.

So unfortunately, growing up with divorced parents is more common than we would like. Divorce is not going to be disappearing anytime soon, we all want to believe that marriage lasts forever. We all want to believe that our spouse will never become abusive. We all want to believe that our loved one will never cheat. And for a lot of us that [happy marriage] will be our reality. But for others this will not be our reality by any stretch of the imagination.

Why? Because we live in a sinful world. A world that is hurting. A world that has it’s priorities all outta wack.

My question is, why do we ignore it? Why do we act as if it isn’t real. Or worse, why do we punish the product of a failed {failed being the common definition of ‘society standards’} marriage, a failed condom, a failed life path. The child ultimately is who suffers no matter what.

Side note- I didn’t grow up with divorced parents. Well, the person who “raised” me did get divorced. Multiple times. So that part is relevant however the term parent(s), I would use loosely. very, very extremely loosely. rather-not at all.

WHY does society punish them. No I don’t mean intentionally. I mean how is it that other children have some how found a way to alienate the children who grew up like this. Why is our natural response to anything that’s different, negative?

“That kid grew up different than I, so he must be weird. Something must be wrong with him.” No one ever says this out loud- well not that often, they may, but typically its all in their body language and lack of inclusion.

More than likely there is something not right with them, because they spent their life wondering “Why me? What did I do?” Then all sorts of psychological issues arise and  scenarios I’m not licensed to evaluate.

Society could have been any other way. I picture teachers swooping in these children. Cultivating an atmosphere where other students are encouraged to embrace these children. Just as much as they are encouraged to share etc.

I guess that’s just my dreaming heart speaking.

Call me a bit dramatic, emotional or sensitive or whatever you wish. I’m not the problem I’m addressing, the problem I’m addressing is, you.

This is a beautiful epidemic and your mockery, puny minds, insensitive, judgemental way of thinking is ruining it. Ruining people. Ruining children.

Every person has a story to tell. A story to be celebrated.

When will you get that you are just as messy as us–and beautiful too.

Change perspective, Cherish Narrative and Empower to Embellish.

Yours in the most humblest way,

~A Genuine Destiny