The Power of Words

Reunion is harder when you’re only 14…
July 17, 2010, 8:37 pm
Filed under: Adoption, Life, Ramblings | Tags: , , ,

And when your nmom is bipolar…

And when it was brought upon you by force…

And when your nmom is ODing on Kool-Aid.

Reunion is great as long as both parties are ready for it.  In my case, neither were.  Yet, you can’t change what’s going on.  What happened, happened.  What is happening, is happening.

Sometimes I wish I could just open her eyes to make her see what I see, but I don’t know how.  I want a pair of anti fog glasses.  It took me 3 years to figure this all out, she’s had 14. 

She’s proud of me, and she’s trying now.  But… it’s still hard.  It will always be.  But, I guess that’s why they call it a roller coaster.

Sorry for the suckish blog post.  (and the lack of blog posts…)  I’ve had a lot going on.  I’m leaving for boarding school next month, and finished with a 3.7 unweighted GPA for freshman year.  (woot!) 

I’ll try to make time for blogging even though I’m working 5/7 days a week and have a mega hectic schedule.

Peace to all.


in·vis·i·ble: not visible, not perceptible by the eye
February 18, 2010, 11:51 pm
Filed under: Bullying, Ramblings, School | Tags: , , ,

I’m not in a good mood.  You know what, I’m not in a good mood at all!  At softball the coaches only pay attention the annoying bleach blonde girls who reapply mascara in the dugouts.  My coach just sticks me in the outfield during practice saying that he’s rotating people when really, he’s rotating everyone but me.  So, you can imagine that makes me feel more invisible.

The only time my coach notices me is when I mess up.  He congratulates all the other girls when they catch the ball or throw well.  But for me?  Nope…  I’m not good enough for a high five or encouraging words. 

After my game (which I was stuck in outfield as a substitute) my coach said “Great first game!”  Yeah… because that was my first game.  My first game was Tuesday night and I fouled twice on the best JV pitcher in the league (she’s better than our varsity pitcher)

At school, it’s the same thing.  I’m invisible.  My friends don’t even bother waiting until I’ve left the table, they spread things about me while I’m sitting right across from them.  It took my AP Environmental teacher one semester (half a year) to remember my name.

I guess being invisible is best when you don’t talk.  Then your a ghost.


against: in opposition to; directly opposite from

I don’t know much about how I came to this world, but I do know that I was born one week late.  It was as if I knew I’d be gone from her, and I just wasn’t willing to accept it.  I didn’t want to leave, but who would.  And if she knew what was going to happen to me, I’m sure she would have maybe been more reluctant. 

My life has been far from easy.  Of course, I don’t particularly enjoy posting my life story on the internet, I don’t mind the use of metaphors.  My life has been like walking into a door, then halfway into the next room, the door violently slams in my face but there’s no turning back: I have to get through that door.

I often wonder if she misses me.  Would she care to know that I earned an A on my AP midterm?  Or maybe that I was bullied throughout middle school, and now, through highschool.

What about him?  Does he think of me?  Does he wonder if I’m alright, if I have a bed to sleep in at night?  I wonder about my grandparents.  Am I their little secret?  Have I been well hidden?

I’m against this struggle.  I never chose this path; it was predetermined.  When I say predetermined I always go on a little tangent in my head, two sides debating whether or not there is a God.  But, why would God separate two people who were so close?  I was inside of her, don’t tell me she’s moved on!  I haven’t.

Mom: I miss you.

beau-ty: qualities that give pleasures to the senses or exalt the mind
January 11, 2010, 2:24 am
Filed under: Beauty, Bullying, Life, Ramblings, Words | Tags: , , , , ,

After a heated discussion with a best friend, I’ve concluded that beauty is something I do not possess.  Yes, even I admit to an atrocity. I am not, by society’s standards, pretty.  By beauty’s definition, beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.  I guess by my friend’s eye, I am lacking of qualities that exalt the mind.

But, in my eyes beauty is from within.  This world we are living in is so materialistic that we don’t even acknowledge things we already have.  Some people have eyes that are so intricate and unique but are so quick to go out and by makeup to plaster around it.  People’s imperfections make them perfect.  I will not succumb to the patriarchal paradigm.  I will not become a sheep in society, rather rebel against the objectification of women. 

When shopping for a bra with my mom, I saw bras with so much push up I wanted to puke.  Why would you try to make your breasts look any bigger?  I mean, you are who you are and you may be fooling others but you definitely aren’t fooling yourself.

And at the airport this winter, seeing a ten year old clad with makeup, high heels, and a Gucci bag, I seriously began to question the extent of society’s imprint.  A ten year old girl shouldn’t be wearing high heels or makeup or carrying around a purse that costs more than my laptop.  It is a sickening affair that is terrorizing the nation.

After that, I’ve decided that my friend who tried to conform me isn’t my friend.  A friend understands you and doesn’t try changing you.

Everyone who has met me knows that I am who I am and no matter how hard you try, things will always be that way.

 You are beautiful.

Si-lence: the state of being silent. Stillness. Secrecy.
December 16, 2009, 7:48 pm
Filed under: Adoption, Bullying, Life, Ramblings, Words | Tags: , , , , , ,

It’s amazing how unnoticed I can be.  It’s as if I were oblivion: forgotten, unwanted.  Today I went five periods without talking.  I was compeletely reticent and did anyone even notice my presence?  Nope.  I was slapped in the head with a metal ruler by a junior, however.  Oh!  The wonders of being a freshman. 

I find this particularly disturbing because I’m supposed to have friends.  At least, I thought I did.  When I sat at lunch they were surprised to see me “Oh!  I didn’t know you were here today!”  Well, that’s comforting.

Sure, being silent in school isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but being silent about what is morally injust and defying the boundaries of ethics is.  The whole point in words is to use it to exercise our right to an opinion.  I’ve been silent on so many things in my life.  There is one thing I’m starting to speak out about, but not ready to declare, at the moment.  I’ve been speaking out about adoption ever since I heard of the BSE era, and the coercive tactics used in this world.   I honestly wish that instead of wanting a HWI (healthy white infant) people will begin to adopt out of foster care, where adoption actually makes sense.  I see no point in destroying a perfectly good family.  Sure, things might be tough for a while, but humans are adaptable species, things will work out.

If your name, culture, heritage, and family were stripped of you, would you be silent?

Some say silence is golden, but I choose noise.

Un-be-knownst: unknown; unperceived; without someone’s knowledge

Yesterday, I biked to the beach, short shorts and a tank top covered my bathing suit.  I was ready for fun.  While I was running around and dancing and biking, the sun decided it would leave me an unfair reminder.  Yes, I got  a sunburn.  My brains didn’t tell me “Oh!  The sun is out, how about some sunscreen!” and now I’m burned.

You see, life isn’t a box of chocolates, it’s more like spicy jalapenos  What you do today, might burn you in the ass tomorrow.  I find that as a whole, our society tends to try to “fix” things.  We operate under the notion that things can just be solved with a flash of cash, but truly, it can’t.  We either solve short-term problems with long-term solutions or just band aid something.  Bread and circuses.

Okay, I’ll admit.  I’ve been burned numerous times.  Sometimes, you just get carried away with life, sometimes people trust too easily.  I should’ve known that the emails were coming.  I believed that I had friends, and that was silly.  I trusted my “friends” and, like the jalapenos, my ass was soon burned.  When you think things couldn’t be any better, life hits you.  And life smacked me right in the face.  It was difficult to get back up.  You know the old saying “When you fall, just get back up again,” it’s about as true as “Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.”  Both are such falsities.

As a writer, I know that words are so powerful.  It’s astonishing how much power these insignificant letters have.

I guess I’m expressing their power through my blog.

Ob-liv-i-on: the act of being completely forgotten or unknown.
December 12, 2009, 3:16 pm
Filed under: Adoption, Bullying, Ramblings, Words | Tags: , , , ,

One of my teachers always said “The first student’s name you learn is always that of the trouble maker.”

So, are the quiet, smart students forgotten in an oblivion?  Or are they just passed over by the premise that they understand, no need in teaching them.

As a current forgotten child on many levels: adoption and school, I’ve learned that sometimes oblivion is best.  Over the past two years I have been countlessly ridiculed, harassed, and tormented by evil peers.  I always was their primary focus, and now, after months of effort on my part, I’ve managed to avoid their radar.  I much prefer this, but being unnoticed is quite lonely.  When after two months of classes, the teacher still doesn’t know you exist, pain ensues.  I am a forgotten child, student, and friend. 

If I could speak out about what I find injust, then maybe I’d be “proud” of myself.  I believe that all adoptees should have access to their records, that way their culture, roots, and family will never descend into oblivion.  At the moment, I cannot obtain my records; I am a minor.  Yet, just because I cannot obtain my records doesn’t mean I’m not fighting. 

One day, my teacher asked “can you change the world?”  Most of the students said “If we all do our part, we can make a difference,” can you say clichéd?  I can.  My response to his somewhat rhetorical question was “By speaking out about atrocities in this world, injust matters, and unethical means of obtaining what is desired, I can slowly change the world.  People will follow a leader, and at the moment no true leader has emerged.  I plan on becoming that leader, I want open records for all.”  My teacher looked at me oddly, as if he were thinking about what I had just said.  He never thinks.  I had just created history.

My greatest fear is that we will forget history.  History happens in order to prevent the same mistakes from recurring.  If we don’t do anything to prevent that, our future will become oblivion. 

Oblivion is scary.