Letter #3

Dear Colette,

I'm not sure how to start this letter. It is the third of a series of letters I anticipate writing. I'm not sure if you will ever even see this letter, nor will these words ever meet paper. I don't know how I feel today about you, but somehow writing this letter on my green couch, with the brazen sunlight willfully piercing my slightly hungover, and black eyeliner stained eyes might be theraputic. Then again, it might not be. But, it certainly beats paying a therapist 200 bucks to sit on her couch that's probably not as comfortable as mine only to tell her things that I can just write on my own for free.
My name is Brooke. I was born on April 12, 1976 in Charlotte, I now know. For over 35 years I didn't know where I was born. I just knew that I was adopted in Charlotte, well, looking back now, I don't think I even knew that.
All of my life I have been trying to identify who I am. Although, I am naturally quite aware of my surroundings most of the time, I have found it difficult to know myself. Plato would be sad.
Something that comes inherant to most people-those not adopted, comes wrapped tightly in a box sent from Africa, that has been through customs in seven different countries and rewrapped a few times, delivered with tears and rips patched messily by the hands of an uncaring agent. That is a fancy way of describing two words- self-awareness.
I can't blame you. You did what you thought was right. You did what you had to do at the time given the circumstances. I realize also that times have changed a lot. People are much more accepting of others now, or at least more tolerant because the world views have changed so much.
Although it's my assumption that the reality of the human mind is not particularly altered, as much as it is that the world view is not as dilluted as it was in the 1970s. People have come to grips with truth more and because thinking is so far advanced since then, people are less likely to pass judgement on accidental pregnancy. That's just my speculation. Who am I?
I've always found astrology stimulating and find myself constantly intrigued by descriptions of my sign. I'm aries in case you didn't know. Not until recently have I really found solace in knowing that it's not where I came from that determines who I am, but from who, and that's God.
My spirituality is constantly increasing, and through personal growth I am finally realizing the importance of things such as interpersonal relationships and love, and the correct ways to obtain and keep both healthy and steady.
Some people say that with each step forward they experience a few steps back, and while that might have some truth to it, I have found that the steps taken in advancement in thought processes are far longer than the steps taken backward. So growth is exactly described as what it is-growth.
Another thing fascinating to me is study of genetics. Since I have had no one to link myself to in my life, until 2007, when I had my daughter, Sarah, the absense of common characteristics and basic things that people often take for granted have meant much more to me. The fact that my friends look like their parents, and have common traits and likes and dislikes fascinates me.
I guess you could call me the missing link, or am I the puzzle missing the piece? Not sure.
Not sure, is a pretty good way to describe my feeling right now. I am not sure if I want to meet you. I am not sure if I want my whole life to be altered forever. I am not sure if I feel like writing these letters anymore. Not sure if I care enough about you to put my heart at risk for more pain.
I am toying with ideas today that I've never thought of before. I don't want to share them with anyone, and that scares me. Something that I can be proud of is my capacity for sharing. Are you that way?
I just realized yesterday that your career path led you to a position that allows you to give away money. I love to do that too. Are we alike in that respect? Do you give of yourself as freely or are you secretive? Do you bare burdens that no one knows of? Am I one of them? Do you wear you heart on your sleeve like I do? Do you often find yourself caring about others in ways that they don't reciprocate, and upon noticing, remain faithful to them? Do you trust in the Lord with your finances? Do you trust in Him at all?
I would find it hard to believe that someone who has given up their child, and has lived 35 years wondering where she is, would not trust the Lord. Maybe you know who I am already and are like me, a coward. If I find out that you have known who I am for years and have never contacted me, I don't know how I will feel. I guess it's the same as me knowing who you are, writing a very personal blog for the world to read and share in emotion with, and not having contacted you.
It's now been three months. I am not ready to mail a letter. I keep finding feelings pushed back in my soul that I didn't know I had. I don't know if I'm ready to start healing or ready to have closure. Maybe they are hand in hand, and to know one, is to know the other. Maybe writing this letter has made me wonder who I am some more. Is this really helping me? Maybe I should see a therapist. Nah. I'll keep writing, and through writing, I will find the answer, because when you think about it, as I have many times over, writing is just verbalizing your soul. It's letting your insides out to play. It's being pushed in the swing by your grandmother, and screaming, "Higher, Higher!"
I thought I was ready to send a letter this weekend. I went out last night with every intention of waking up this morning, stuffing an envelope, and recording myself dropping it into a mailbox. It's not gonna happen. Not today.

With disdain and uncertainty again I leave you,

Brooke