All roads lead to enough
Woman goes on journey, comes home changed. The journey was a short trip to Arizona to visit Tin. It also happened to be the weekend before his 16th birthday, an event that is always laden with ambivalence. Not mine, his. The journey of an adopted child is lifelong. I remember a man in an adoption group I belonged to insisting that I look at adoption as trauma, and I insisted I was not going to teach my son to be the victim in his own narrative. The man was right.
To be adopted is to begin your life wondering why.
I wanted to be a mother so badly, I left the man I loved to become one. I read, spoke with, participated in adoption groups and tried to become enough for my son. I immersed myself in his culture, trying to be enough for him. I’ve pulled in mentors, teachers, rabbis, artists, family and friends to help me navigate being enough of a mother to an exceptional learner and creative spirit.
This weekend, I felt the tension that coexists with loving a person whose trajectory is always moving a step away not towards. He is moving towards self discovery, self identification, and his grand desire to be free is always at odds with being present. To be present means to accept what is here, what is in front of him, what is his reality. Our struggle is born out of his living in a future not yet realized and my living in a past that has never been enough – between my desire to be a mother, to have a family and recreate my family of origin and his desire to be who he is, unencumbered by my history, my expectations, my needs. We struggle.
Our struggle is based in fear. Mine has always been I’m not enough to mother him. His is based in fear that he is too much. I crawled deep into the cave of disappointment on this trip. I find it hard to be present because I can’t let go of my expectations or my desires or my vision for him. I can’t let go of wanting to protect him from harm. In his upward spiral, he is willing to risk everything for his freedom to be who he is, to do as he pleases, to be cut loose from the control of adults. This energy feeds a flame of fear that makes me grip tighter. When I need to be letting go.
I always reach across this chasm to say I love you, to touch, to breathe, to be with him. My past is always future-forecasting my future, I’m the one who needs to break free and let go. All of my growing into being enough has been to let go of the dream of who I wanted to be, to accept the person I’ve become. To know that I am enough. I struggled. I have to have faith his struggle will lead him to a similar place – to know he is enough.