Birthday. On a list of things I have a love-hate relationship with, my birthday definitely ranks pretty high. Well, it did for a very long time. Now that I’m getting older, my point of view is changing a bit and that certainly took quite long enough. Actually, birthdays are a joyous milestone to be celebrated with family and friends, a birthday cake, candles to be blown out and a wish to be made. What’s not to love?
In my early teenage years I found out about having been adopted as a baby. Unfortunately I didn’t learn this from my parents, but rather through other kids teasing me about it. In hindsight, this may have been the beginning of my “dark days”, because withdrawal and sadness were my response for a long time and have been returning ever since. How could my biological mother refuse me? Right after bringing me into this world, she allowed for her own flesh and blood to be shoved off into the arms of complete strangers? No desire to be involved with regard to who I would grow up to be?
Slowly, the sadness turned into anger towards this woman who gave me life, but had no interest in being a part of it. There were a lot of conversations with my mom. All the good arguments she gave me, the very scarce information she had about my biological mother and her reasoning behind the decision she made, nothing helped change my mind. My birthday became the most hated day every year. I got so angry and frustrated, that I wanted to find this woman and confront her about her choices. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, with all the choice words, the German language has to offer, inclusive. Fortunately I never followed through with it.
In my thirties, this anger started to fade slowly, allowing for a more positive perspective. Everything my mom kept telling me throughout the years finally inched its way into my heart. Actually I could call myself lucky! Because I was raised by people who truly wanted me. They gave me love, safety and everything they possibly could to ensure a bright and happy future. There certainly was, and still is today, a whole lot to be incredibly thankful for. Why did it take so long for me to understand this blessing? My life could have turned out very differently, in a negative sense. My mom encouraged me for years, to consider these positive thoughts. But by being so consumed with sadness and anger, there was no way of getting through to me. I had to come to this point of view on my own terms, in my own time. Luckily I did, better late, than not at all.
I still don’t celebrate my birthdays in a grandiose manner, with a party and lots of people. I am thankful in silence, however, for being healthy, for every blessing along the way and for the privilege of reaching the age I am. There are so many children, terminally ill, who never receive the opportunity to become adults and create a future for themselves. Way too much of my adult life was spend in anger towards my biological mother when instead, I should be grateful to her. By giving me up for adoption, she made a good life possible for me knowing, that she was not capable to do so herself. This decision was my birth mother’s way of loving me. How lucky am I?
Trivialities & Intricacies 