I used to never let myself be angry. 

I was terrified of my own anger- of my own power. 

It’s always been in me. 

I know it’s part of me. But for so long it felt like my anger did nothing but exhaust me and my life was exhausting enough.

Why add to it?

Instead, I’d survive. 

I’d get over it or rename it sadness, or stress, or exhaustion but I’d never call on my anger. 

I was taught that anger was dangerous-

That anger would make you less attractive, less understood, less respected, just less.

I was taught that feeling anger was a weakness.

That anger only brought violence and pain-

That anger was unsafe.

Learning to honor the range of my emotions without shame has been a painful struggle. 

My anger has saved me. 

My anger has taught me self control and self respect. 

My anger has looked me in the eye and told me that I needed to leave. 

My anger has given me the strength to make decisions that my past “people-pleasing” self could not have made.

My anger is not violent or scary. 

She is strong and she takes no bullshit. 

My anger looks at me and says that I am whole as I am and anything that questions, doubts, or fears me, is not for me.  




I’ve never shared my poetry but this feels good. I might do it again.

Here Goes Something!

I have probably started and quit about ten different blogs. Some I’ve started and quit after a couple of years, and others I’ve started and then deleted in the same week. My goal for this blog is to keep it going as long as I can.

To be honest with myself, I have quit those blogs for a number of reasons and fears. Some of those fears have included:

  • I’m not a professional, who would care to read my stuff?
  • Crap, I’m not even that great of a writer!
  • Damn, what if I offend someone?
  • What if I offend someone I love?!
  • I should probably spend more time working through my stuff rather than writing about it, right?
  • I’m sure someone else is already doing this better than I am.
  • This is just a lot of pressure. (Mostly self imposed, but still!)
  • What if someone actually likes what I have to say, will I have to write this forever?
  • What if I run out of topics?
  • But mostly, what if people just don’t like me?

Like many people, I have struggled for most of my life with insecurities and negative thoughts, and only in the last five years I have been on a mostly intentional journey of  working through my shit, excuse my language (Warning: there will be a little more of that). In those years, well, actually more like in the last three years I’ve realized that most of the baggage and pain that I carry comes from my childhood and my adoption experience. I’ve tried looking at myself and my life through the lens of my adopted family, my faith, my relationships, my education, etc. but it really all started when my biological family, for whatever reason, decided or was told that they could no longer take care of me. And only in the last year I have started to unpack what that really means to me and how that reality affects and has affected my entire life.

If you’re still reading, maybe you’re interested in following along. If so, you can totally subscribe to this blog and keep up or you can just check in once in a while to see what new things have been added, as you’re able or interested. If you’re not interested, thats okay too.

This blog is different for me because even with all of the fears I mentioned above, I care about myself and my own healing more. I want to do this for me but also for other adoptees. Because, this shit is tough! BUT, it is a little tiny bit easier knowing that someone else “gets it”.


“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” – Brene Brown