Saturday, May 20, 2017

Motherhood Unchartered Waters

It's taken me this long to come to terms with that much of what I believed to be true probably is not in terms of my adoption. Especially this statement about my reason for relinquishment.
The child was given up for adoption because birthparents already had several daughters to raise. Birthparents were struggling to make ends met and decided it was better to relinquish her while they still would be able to raise a son. 
The truth is that my gender would not have influenced or changed the fact that I was relinquished. Due to the extreme circumstances related to my birth the fate of a son would not have ended any differently. I used to be jelous on my younger brother for in a way-taking the place that rightfully was mine. I can no longer feel those feelings any longer but I will always suffer from the trauma of adoption separation and the loss of my sisters and a childhood raised with several siblings.

What difference would another mouth to feed have mattered if a family already had exceded the accepted number of children ? None and everything. Truth is that if that statement had been true its likely that my birth parents would have relinquished more than just one child and it probably would not have been the youngest at time-and they would definetely mot have chosen to add another baby if the simple reason was for econmic reasons. Why would my birth father have been able to visit the adoption agency to try to take me back-only to discover I legally no longer was theirs? Would he have used his connections to try to find out where I was sent and more importantly how was he able to find out what country I was sent to ? Would a parent have behaved like that if they only saw children as an economic burden as well as a necessity ? I truely believe my birthfather acted out of love just as I believe my birth mother was prepared to have a large family. I still hold my maternal grandmother responsible for my adoption, there has to be an extremely good reason why my birthparents decided to disown my mother's side of the family. What those reasons are I will most likely never know-perhaps her crime was that she decided I was to relinquished for adoption but there probably was more than that perhaps it's reasons that are connected to my birth and my adoption.



Hilarie Burton aka Peyton Sawyer, in One Tree Hill 14th episode season six "A Hand To Take Hold of The Scen"
Yet I still fear pregnancy or more importantly childbirth, especially since my birthmother was on the brink of death as she gave birth to me. Then again I am not my birth mother, its no longer the 80s and I probably will not give birth to as many children as she have.


Empress Ki


So far I have only experienced one side of loss from adoption trauma which means I'm very reluctant to raise a child all by myself without another parent. It's not nothing wrong with that, but I have my reasons for not wanting my child to experience the loss of their mother or to be born in posthumous birth and especially not a maternal death. I don't mean to say that mothers are more important than a father they both are equally as important. No matter if a child is forced to grove up with a single parent the loss of that missing parent might impact their life and shape their person and their future. I think I finally am ready to consider parenting and motherhood, given that I met the right person. Although there never are any agrantuees in life I feel like I am as comfortable in my own skin as I ever could be.

I have also been afraid of what legacy I will inprint on my child... daughters learn from their mothers... I've seen my mother as an overachiever and perfectionist for much of my life. That was how my mother was raised by her grandmother. I hope I don't walk down the same road or that my children don't mimic me as they grow up... That's the social heritage while I confess I'm also worried about my biological heritage what diseases could lay hidden in my genes... Unlike most adult adoptees I got a small part of my birth parents medical history. It involves two types of cancer, heart disease and fertility issues.

Yes motherhood, may or may not be a source of fear and worry. But I don't think it's right to say to someone that they doubt your ability to be a suitable parent for an hypothetical child. I think all birth mothers should be offered enough support and resources to enable them to raise their children. Don't threaten a young woman that she may end getting her suitability to care for a future child leading to possible loss of costudy.





Sunday, May 14, 2017

Why I stopped using the term "birth mother"




Photo taken at Museum Sisters of Mercy, Montreal 


Last fall, I was approached by CKUT McGill Campus and Community Radio about starting an adoptee-centric radio magazine, after they had heard an interview I had done with my friend Stefan on his radio show Free City Radio. I was unsure about accepting the offer, yet I also felt that I couldn’t turn down such an amazing opportunity. After thinking about it for a week, I invited my friend, filmmaker and adoption prevention activist Pascal Huynh to collaborate with me on what would soon become, Out of the Fog Radio

For us, Out of the Fog is not only about bringing greater understanding about adoption issues and family separation to people outside of the adoption community-- it’s also about empathy and vulnerability in storytelling. In our past episodes, we have covered topics such as adoptee gratefulness and reproductive justice, the 60s scoop and Indigenous child removal, mothers of adoption loss, infertility and creativity and the importance of relationships in social services

While Out of the Fog started as a platform to creatively disseminate important information about issues that are close to us and our communities, I quickly found myself being challenged personally by some of the content of our episodes, particularly the episode on mothers. As a politically-aware adoptee and feminist, it hadn’t dawned on me that I knew very little about the plight of mothers, until I did more research and interviewed guests for the episode. But even after the episode came out, I was repudiated a number of times by mothers on Facebook groups about using commonly-used terms and expressions like “birth mother” and “surrendering children to adoption”. I was alarmed and very embarrassed because I was trying to be “in solidarity” with them, yet here I was deeply offending them by using words that obscured their experiences as mothers having been forced to give up their children for adoption.

Up until that point, I was ignorant about the origins of these terms and how triggering it could be for mothers to be referred to as “birth mother” or “biological mother”. Yet, it is true that these terms are highly reductive because they focus only on their biological function, and by doing so, do not take into account how their experiences were shaped by gender, class and race. Moreover, “birth mother” is a very static term that insinuates a mother's parental role stops at birth, whereas she still may play an active role in her children or adult children’s lives. 

I understand the desire to distinguish between one’s family and one’s adoptive family, but there is an indelible power in language that should not be ignored. Whether you acknowledge it or not, your choice of words holds power and it affects people's interpretation and understanding of the issue. These terms are problematic because they do not convey what actually happened and what is still happening today: mothers and fathers are forced to give up their children, usually because they are young and unwed (which still happens in some countries) or because they lack the financial, psycho-social support or tools to raise their children.

I’m truly happy that I got called out on my use of “birth mother” because it forced me to look at how mothers of adoption loss do not get the recognition as mothers that they deserve. Since then, I no longer use these terms out of respect for both mothers and fathers. If I need to assign titles or make distinctions, I use "mother" or "Ethiopian mother" and "adoptive mother". In doing so, I'm stating the truth in a way that is recognizing Ethiopian mothers motherhood, even if they rarely have the power to an play active role in their adopted Western children or adult children’s lives. Still, their loss and grief is not widely acknowledged. I think partly because there is a pervasive idea that it is a “good thing” for children to be placed; that the mother made the “right choice” and that her children are better off. In fact, it’s almost seen as a heroic and selfless act that is done out of love. People tend to either commend or shame mothers for giving up their children (especially because we are extremely quick to judge women for being bad or unfit mothers), but one of the misconceptions is that children are given up out of love when it's really desperation and survival. Kat, a self-identified birth mother and PhD student, who appeared on our episode on mothers, describes how mothers are told to forget about their children or that they will forget, but that it’s a myth. The loss and grief that mothers experience is long-term, possibly lifelong and because of this, they tend to have higher risks of suicide, mental illness, higher instances of secondary infertility and to make matters worse, it’s difficult to find adequate counselling services. 

Hearing Kat's story and others similar to hers made me realize that my adoptee advocacy was lacking; how can I talk about reproductive rights and family preservation without learning from and partnering with those who are directly affected? It also made me reflect on the importance of creating more spaces for open discussion with mothers and fathers of adoption loss, because the more adoptees’ create alliances with mothers and fathers; the less shame, guilt and secrecy will exist. Similarly, the more we understand each other's struggles, the more empathy we create and hopefully, the more we can heal. 


Kassaye co-hosts Out of the Fog, a podcast and radio show on CKUT 90.3 FM. She is also co-editing Lions Roaring Far Home, an anthology by Ethiopian adoptees, which is set to come out towards the end of 2017. Besides writing and radio production, she mentors youth living in group homes.





Monday, May 1, 2017

Rooted to Resiliency: Panel Discussion in Covent Garden, London

The Library, Covent Garden, London 30 March 2017





Dear Sisters of the Heart,

Last month I had the privilege of hearing these stories of fellow writers, and even though they are not directly adoption-related (except for my presentation), I hope that they might inspire you, too, as they are all stories about resiliency.

You've been in my thoughts a lot these past months, and I hope to share more thoughts on resiliency this summer! Meanwhile, this story of fellow panelist TOM KEARNEY is amazing! I can't believe that he survived this coma, and lived to tell the tale. 


Part 1 of 3: TfL Bus Crash Survivor and #LondonBusWatch founder, TOM KEARNEY, discusses his forthcoming book "Death, Life and The East German Ladies' Swimming Team" about being hit by a London bus on Oxford street and recovering from a near-death coma to take on the Mayor of London and learning how to swim outdoors all year-round. 

JENNIFER JUE-STEUCK discusses her forthcoming INSPIRATION ICE CREAM: A MERMOIR, a book inspired by her (adoptive) mother's battle with ovarian cancer.

MARTI LEIMBACH is the author of many books, including DYING YOUNG, THE MAN FROM SAIGON and  DANIEL ISN'T TALKING. She talks about her experiences raising a child with autism.





Native Province: Taipei and Jiangsu (mainland China) Hometown: Laguna Beach (OC), California Arrived in the USA: Dec 1979 / Jan 1980 Education: NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts & Harvard Generation: G2, “A Global Generation” Proud Big Sister of: Chris (from Seoul, South Korea) Why This Blog: “Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” Helen Keller

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Chronic Ancestral Amnesia

Andy Leppard via Flickr

The other day I had a conversation with a friend about hair dyeing. She was lamenting how often she needs to cover her grays these days. I told her I was sorry, I’ve never had to color my hair and have never wanted to. I told her that recently I’d seen an article saying redheads don’t go gray, and that it gave me hope that maybe I’d not have to worry about whether or not to dye my hair. She talked about the onset of gray hair running in families. I shared stories about my husband and my best friend from college, both of whom went gray very early in life.

Later, I realized how strange my half of the conversation must have sounded. I didn’t say I thought I wouldn’t go gray because others in my family hadn’t; I talked about an article I’d read. I talked about the heredity of other people close to me. I didn’t talk about my own, because I couldn’t.

I’m not sure of my mother’s natural hair color. I’ve only seen it bleached very blonde. In faded older pictures, her hair appears a shade of red that could be similar to mine, but I don’t know that it wasn’t dyed then, too. I’ve never seen a picture of my mother or any of her siblings as children.

I’ve never seen a picture of any of my grandparents as children, though it probably wouldn’t matter much since those photos would likely be black-and-white. I’ve met a paternal aunt whose hair color is similar to mine, not at all gray, though again, I have no idea if her color was natural. My father’s hair has become more gray since I’ve known him, but I don’t know if it ever had as much red in it as mine.

I’ll find out how my hair will age the same way I found out how puberty and pregnancy would affect me—via firsthand experience. I’ll learn about menopause this same way, without the guidance of elder female relatives. I suffer from ancestral amnesia that—unfortunately, in my case—reunion has been unable to cure. Thankfully, these days I’m able to go through entire weeks forgetting that I used to feel I was dropped down on earth from the sky rather than grown in another human’s body. And then, in an unexpected moment, that feeling returns.






Karen Pickell
Karen Pickell was born and adopted in Ohio in the late 1960s. She reunited with her birth mother in 2005 and with her birth father in 2007. Her husband is an adoptive father of two children, now grown, from his first marriage, one of whom was adopted from Korea. Karen and her husband live in Florida with their two biological children. She is the founder of Adoptee Reading Resource, a catalog of books by and for adoptees. She blogs about writing, adoption, and other topics at karenpickell.com.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Living With The Consequences


source
As a reuntied female adult adoptee that currently struggles to manage a life filled with the constant feeling of rejection and abandonment due to the fact that I am the youngest daughter to my birth parents. I was not raised by my birth parents although I think I could have and honestly I would have prefered that. My older sisters was never forcefully nor voluntarilly separated from our birth parents I was the only one who was given that unfortunate fate.

It's a fate I despice yet has been forced to accept, it is also a fate I share with many adoptees - the thing that I still struggle to accept is the fact that my birth parents was able to keep raising their older children yet they couldn't keep me. To know that you have full birth siblings that has been able to be raised in a family by the same parents is hurtful.

Of course the roles might have been reversed, my birth parents could have decided to surrender my oldest sister for adoption while they very well could have decided to keep me. Now my birth parents didn't change their minds, but to know that your birth parents went on to have more children or raise your older siblings when they could not raise you, that is a most cruel fate that I do not wish on anyone.

Like Teen Mum's Catelynn Lowell and Tyler Baltierra, my parents would place me up for adoption while they eventually would end up having another child years after my birth and adoption. My birth parents were not teenagers, they were middleaged and married yet the betrayal, abandonement and ultimat rejection will remain the same. The circumstances and the situatitons may differ slightly.

I was given up for adoption due to the hope and belief that I would get a better life, and I gained another life with a wider access to material things, education and a better social security. Those were things I gained but I was forced to give up so many other things-things people and the Western world often and generally takes for granted.

I am a mere stranger to my birth sister and younger sibling, legally speaking and in reality. What does it help now that I managed to reunite with them at fifteen and met them nine years later? Our roles had already long since been assagined and cemented. My oldest sister was over forthy my youngest sister was only a year older while our younger sibling only learned of my existance a few weeks before my first reunion.

I wish society could begin to realize they would have to reform their thinking that very often is a backwards thinking. Korean adoptions has existed ever since the Korean War, these days the Korean orphans very often are not real orphans but mere paper orphans.

As long as there is this general notion that poor orphans need to be rescued from a live in poverty, or homelessness. The priviliged people will continue to request approval of intercountry and interracial adoption. Thus the demand will continue to be greater than the supply for a cute Asian infant adoptee or whatever other ethnic race.

It's the adoptees that has to live with the consequences that adoption separation caused, sometimes the birth parents and birth family will have to suffer too.

I don't like this talk about adoptees in this context, but I'm trying to prov a point here.

Perhaps there is no possible solutions that could garantuee a happy, harmonious and stabile adult adoptee... Is it possible to overcome the loss and separation... Maybe open adoptions is the next best thing since the adoptee still would have knowledge and some sort of contact with their birthparents without having to severe all ties for eternity.

It's taken me this long to accept and come to terms with the many lies that I believed was true for many years. My reason for relinquishment and especially knowing that this particular sentence seems to be false.
The child was given up for adoption because birthparents already had several daughters to raise. Birthparents were struggling to make ends met and decided it was better to relinquish her while they still would be able to raise a son. 
The truth is that my gender would not have influenced or changed the fact that I was relinquished. Due to the extreme circumstances related to my birth the fate of a son would not have ended any differently. I used to be jelous on my younger brother for in a way-taking the place that rightfully was mine. I can no longer feel those feelings any longer but I will always suffer from the trauma of adoption separation and the loss of my sisters and a childhood raised with several siblings.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Being an Asian Adoptee in the White Church [in the Era of Trump]




I recently posted the following to my personal FB page, and I ended up getting more feedback on it than I expected:


In the era of Trump, one in which White Evangelicals are playing a crucial role in propelling forward a White Nationalist [Supremacist] agenda, I am realizing that as not only an Asian woman but as a transracially, transnationally adopted Asian woman, the White Church in which I was raised and groomed to uphold Whiteness has become a decreasingly safe place for me (and for my kids). If this statement alarms you, it should alarm you. But perhaps not for the reasons you think.
White Church has increasingly become a source of burden and dread, because it is a place where the experiences and perspectives that define who I am as a person of color and as a transracial, transnational adoptee are fundamentally neglected, dismissed, and rejected. Therefore, I have increasingly come to realize that there is no place for me within the White Church, because the White Church can neither acknowledge nor meet the needs of my personal, familial, and social reality.
I have learned over time that Whiteness, and in particular “good Christian” Whiteness can rarely handle being challenged or made uncomfortable--and ultimately it is incredibly resistant to change.
It will perfunctorily smile and open its arms to you, but it will not try to understand you or enter your world. And if you dare to challenge it or make it uncomfortable then the deflective tool and manipulation of false victimhood will manifest in the form of the ever-flowing, eternal fount of White tears to shut you down and accuse you of perpetrating some terribly hateful act upon their Whiteness--simply by doing nothing more than expressing your reality as a person of color.
White Church, I don’t despise you. It’s just time for me to stop trying to fit into your tiny White box. There’s a whole wide world out there full of beautiful, diverse people. Who love and want to be loved.
I hope you find your way out of your dark slumber.
Until, then, farewell...not forever, but for now.

* * *


I had several people private message me who wanted clarification or further explanation.


I don’t in any way feel obligated to explain myself. But I do hope that by providing further clarification, those who expressed they can relate will feel further understood and that those who expressed concern will further understand.


First of all, being aware of my personal context as an Asian person who was adopted into Whiteness is crucial. I grew up in the unique position of being raised in a White family within the White Church within the White community as though I was a White girl, despite the fact that I am obviously Asian.




In short, I was an outsider given an inside look into Whiteness due to assumed assimilation conferred [forced] upon me by adoption.


That inside look was not flattering to Whiteness.


Being an undercover Asian showed me that Whiteness ultimately wants to subjugate people like me to it to ensure the perpetuation of a system that favors and upholds Whiteness, especially if it can do so under the guise of goodness and godliness. (I’m not saying that my personal experience can be generalized to everyone, but after spending more than four decades living as an undercover Asian in a White World, my experiences and perspectives are certainly more than negligible and no less than valid.)


I was raised going to White Church surrounded [indoctrinated] by White experience and culture. As long as I assimilated and internalized the perspectives and views of Whiteness, then ultimately my Asianness could be used for the purpose of supporting and upholding Whiteness.


My token presence within the White Church was not only tolerated but seen as a way to serve the appearance of “diversity,” so that the White Church could applaud itself and provide “proof” that it is indeed inclusive. (See, look, we have an Asian person here!) My Asian presence in the White Church allowed for White culture and perspectives (i.e., white superiority) to be perpetuated as the ideal, as the pinnacle of Christianity.


In other words, my presence in the White Church was acceptable, even desirable as it was an opportunity to convert me to Whiteness (under the guise of godliness), as long as I complied. My Asianness was negligible, maybe even entertaining at times, only as long as it posed no threat and caused no discomfort to the Whiteness that came to me for affirmation and confirmation.


However, the less “compliant” and “assimilated” that I have become as I have allowed my identity to become more reflective of all of who I am, the less acceptance and tolerance I have found. The more secure and the more outward in my identity as an Asian woman and as an unapologetic adoptee, the less secure my place has become within Churchianity, and specifically within White Churchianity.


In short, unapologetic Asian adoptee = very uncomfortable White Church.


In other words, they liked me so much better when I was the noble savage, when I was the quiet Asian girl who sat quietly and compliantly, supporting and upholding their Whiteness. The minute I began to challenge the status quo by voicing an alternative narrative, i.e., challenge their White Savior Complex built upon a belief in White superiority was when I no longer served their purposes and hence, was no longer eligible to be tolerated. They could no longer identify me as an accomplice to Whiteness, but rather I became a traitor. And hence, I became a threat.

* * *


I have come to conclude all of this based not on a sudden whim or convenient caprice, but based on personal, tangible experiences over the years. Rather than any single event, it is a lifetime, a collective culture of both passive and active repression, invalidation, negligence, condescension, dismissal, and the like by the White Church, whether by leadership or members, of the reality of my daily life as an adopted person of color that has led me to this place. Furthermore, I have also witnessed both overt and covert racialist practices within White Church openly and unapologetically perpetrated by White leadership and carried out by White members.
While these practices and behaviors can take on many forms or manifestations, ultimately, in my relationships within the White Church, I have experienced the culmination of the fragility of Whiteness. In particular, it has increasingly reached a tipping point as Trump has risen to power.


Despite sincere efforts to salvage and preserve my connection to the White Church, the era of Trump has forced me to come to terms with the reality that White Church is no longer a safe or healthy place for me to be. I have witnessed and experienced just how unsustainable my presence is within a Church that is blind to the reality of People of Color. There are churches that I once attended at which friends of mine are still a part, and I cringe when I hear about the way the perspectives and concerns of people of color are being dismissed, silenced, ignored, and forced to submit to the fragility of Whiteness.


But ultimately, I realize that White Church has not changed in the era of Trump, but rather I have changed. I know now, as I emerge from my stupor, that White Church has always been this way, and it only becomes increasingly so under the current regime. In the era of Trump, the White Church falls deeper into a coma of Whiteness, while I continue to awaken and shed the Whiteness that was thrust upon me.


As I continue to awaken, and as I stated above, the White Church has increasingly become a source of burden and dread, because it is a place where the experiences and perspectives that define who I am as a person of color and as a transracial adoptee are fundamentally neglected, dismissed, and rejected. But again, it has always been this way. There has never been a place for me within the White Church, beyond being subjugated to uphold Whiteness.


As I expressed above, I have learned over time that Whiteness, and in particular “good, Christian” Whiteness cannot handle being challenged or made uncomfortable. If you dare to challenge it or make it uncomfortable then the deflective tool and manipulation of false victimhood will manifest in the form of the ever-flowing, eternal fount of White tears to shut you down and accuse you of perpetrating some terribly hateful act upon their Whiteness--simply by doing nothing more than expressing your reality as a person of color.


And it is that very fact that sums up why I cannot actively choose to remain within the White Church--by doing nothing more than simply expressing my reality as a person of color (and as an adopted person of color), I am perceived as a threat to the White Church. It is a place where I am not permitted to express my reality as an adopted person of color without experiencing backlash.


Hence, now that I am an adult with a choice, I choose to no longer subject myself to being marginalized by a church that is supposed to be the paragon of love simply for sharing the experiences that make me who I am.


* * *


While my friends who are not Christians are vexed by why I would continue to associate with people within the Church, my friends who are (White) Christians border on viewing me as somewhere along a spectrum between ingratitude and secularism to heresy and lunacy. Both sides view me as in need of rehabilitation.


While I don’t necessarily want to be in the place that I am, I do not see myself as in need of rehabilitation. (If anything, the Church is need of rehabilitation.) But I do see myself as in need of grace, patience, and compassion, not because I’ve gone all apostate, but because I need time to work through real, valid experiences that have essentially taught me that who I am is not valued within the White Church.


Ultimately, the era of Trump has finally forced me to be honest with myself. To ask myself, why am I still here? Why do I continue to try to make a place for myself in a Church that obviously values its Whiteness over almost everything else, including the Jesus they claim to follow?


When I asked myself this recently, I realized that I am not still here, or rather, there. And that I have not been for quite some time.


Some would accuse me of giving up. Rather, I see that I am choosing to move on. To what exactly? To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m done trying to make a space for myself in a Church that has never valued me beyond its own agenda and need for affirmation.


Some would view me as one who has become “radicalized” or “apostate” in my thinking. But again, that interpretation of my perspective is through the lens of Whiteness.


Why is it so radical that, I, a person who was born Korean, would return to and begin to cultivate my origins as an adult? Why is it so radical that I would grow up to question the White American version of Churchianity after experiencing consistent repression, marginalization, racism, and rejection at the whims of White Christians? Why am I apostate for allowing myself to be Asian?


It’s only apostate to those who subscribe to the ethnocentric doctrine of American Whiteness.


Rather, you should be asking yourself, why is Whiteness the standard by which all others and all things are measured? You should be asking yourself, why do White Americans think they have a monopoly on understanding Christianity? You should be asking why am I expected to wholly forsake my Asian origins in favor of Whiteness?


But understand this--while I increasingly disavow the label of Christian, and in particular the White Church, I am not disavowing Jesus. Rather I am disavowing the Whiteness that was forced upon me before I was old enough to know I had a choice. It is not that I am wholly rejecting that part of me which is White American, but rather I am rejecting that part of Whiteness that would have me forsake my Korean origins. I am rejecting that part of Whiteness which cannot conceive or understand, therefore cannot accept the whole of who I am.


And I am moving on from the White Church, because I cannot thrive as an authentic human being surrounded by such stifling expectations of blind compliance and submission to Whiteness. I am moving on because as an adopted person of color, my story and experience have been treated as valuable only when its has served to affirm the superiority and sacrifice of White Saviorism.


It is no longer the Whiteness of the White Church that I need or want or seek. Rather I want and seek Jesus and his people--they are my safe place. Because ultimately, Jesus’s Church is not a place. Rather his Church is his people. And his people are those who love as he loves.


So, of course, I am still going to love those within the White church, even the ones who reject my Asianness and my unapologetic adopteeness. And I am committed to loving even those who would treat me as though they are my enemies. But loving doesn’t always mean I have to surround myself in a room filled with people who fundamentally have no desire to connect, engage, or understand. There comes a time when you just gotta shake the dust off your shoes and move on.


Sometimes, loving means continuing to speak the truth, even when nobody likes it. Sometimes, loving means being unapologetically authentic, because loving your neighbor as yourself starts with knowing and being true to yourself.


I don’t know where I am going from here. I don’t know that I will ever find for what I am searching. But I do know that it’s not here. And it’s not there.


I do believe that it is somewhere beyond. Beyond what I can see, and perhaps beyond what I can reach in this lifetime.


All I can do at this point is be true. Be true in the love that I know and continue to seek.


I said it above, and I will say it again…


White Church, I don’t despise you. It’s just time to stop trying to fit into your tiny White box. There’s a whole wide world out there full of beautiful, diverse people. Who love and want to be loved.


I hope you find your way out of your dark slumber.

Until, then, farewell...not forever, but for now.