Sometimes the best decisions are the hardest decisions and though I know this, with the decisions I have recently made, internally, I still struggle. I fight myself knowing that part of me wants one thing but logically and emotionally only one option is suitable. A few days ago I was given opportunity to speak with my adoptive mom…something I haven’t done in almost 5 1/2 months. Five and a half months, people!!! The conversation was smooth and tense all at the same time. It was pleasant but rigid. The purpose wasn’t to chit-chat and catch up cuz heaven forbid anyone does that over the phone anymore, instead it was to decide what our future holds. My future. Her future. Our future as a family. It was hard. It was the most respectable, calm conversation I have ever participated in with her. The main topic of conversation was my ability to be honest and safe inside a family barrier. Both things I am capable of…but that do not come easily or naturally. After a few months of being adopted, and starting to let my guard down, I disclosed to my that I had the desire to hurt her and the family. Not just punch or kick…but kill. It was more of a casual convo when I told her this because I felt keeping it casual would freak her out less, and I felt she had the right to know. She didn’t want to know. No one wanted to know! It created a fear in them that was not intended, but was desirable. Desirable because the love that I so wanted but was so fearful of was then, at that moment, put on halt. No longer did I have to worry about them wanting to get close to me because they were so fearful. Everything in that moment changed. Things between us got a bit nasty…they were fearful, which to an extent I enjoyed, but were unable to meet my needs which then made them unsafe. Anyways…fast forward a few years and I am not in the position they would have wished for, going into the adoption. I was, by law, an adult but emotionally and mentally not so much. By this time I was in college–failing 95% of my classes and struggling socially and educationally. Not something any parent wants for their child. I did, however, have a steady job [that wasn’t my favorite] that made me reach outside my comfort zone as it was a very personable job. Fast forward another year or so and now I am in a bigger-better-college passing only a few of my classes. No job because school is too stressful, etc. Then I was offered a job and took it. Not only because I wanted a job but also because I felt it would hurt my family. Our relationship [my family and my] was in a really dark place. We weren’t getting along and I was often being kicked out. I just figured this job was a good solution to everything. As time passed on I knew it wasn’t the job for me emotionally or mentally and I tried, many times, to decline but the boss denied my request. Soon after I started my job, I quit. Not because I wanted to hurt them or my family but because it was a job that brought back so much of my past that I was having a hard time functioning in a healthy way. As soon as I quit my job I got news from my adoptive mom that I was NOT to come home, ever, or I would end up in an institution. I flew home a week later and that day was the last time I had heard my’s voice in almost 5 1/2 months. I arrived at the airport to my car, packed full of everything I owned. It was a super hard day. Up until a few days ago the only communication I had with my family was through email, and it was very limited. I didn’t get the privilege of knowing what was going on…I didn’t know that one of my family members were in the hospital. Anyways…we talked a few days ago via phone. My was very open and calm, which I was grateful for and she listened. Something she hasn’t done before. Did she believe the things I had to say? I don’t know, that is only for her to say. Towards the end, knowing that I wouldn’t be allowed home, I had to think quickly and came up with 3 options. #1) To just allow her to be my mom and my family to be my family and let all things aside go. #2) To treat it how I view it, like she [they] have done exactly what my birth mom did, and discontinue our relationship. or #3) Continue our relationship, but in a friendship manner. She didn’t really want to decide and when I posed the opportunity for the entire family to be part of it she wanted it to be ultimately my decision. This is one of the hardest decisions I have EVER had to make. I have wanted a family that loves me, my entire life! After discussing each option I decided on option #3 and we will continue our life as friends. Like I said in the beginning sometimes the best decisions are the hardest…and this one was hard but I know it will work. My did explain their reasoning behind deciding to not let me come home and I do understand it logically, but emotionally it hurts. They use “tough love” and I guess tough love is just not something that works with me. They are NOT bad people, they did not have bad intentions…their intentions were very good–but because of what they expected (for me to be a “normal” functioning” person for my age) it ruined our relationship because it was something I was incapable of. I still love them…but have decided that this is what is best–no matter how bad it hurts. Family may just not be my style. Now comes the acceptance. Last, but not least, I have come to the conclusion: no child, no matter age, should have to decide the fate of his/her family.


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