she’s pregnant

Quite a few months back, there was a manager training at my work location. She trained with quite a few people, including myself – which meant that we spent a great deal of time together.

At the end of her time with me, we knew so much about one another. She owned a scrapbooking store at one point and it remains one of her hobbies. I too, love to scrapbook. We spoke about layouts and colors and our deep admiration of cardstock.

Afterwards, we spoke about children and families. She told me that she struggled to have children, but that she finally became pregnant with her son. She mentioned that she and her husband wanted another child, but nothing has worked so far. She told me that they were now considering foster to adopt.

While she was there, we really connected. I’m not sure why or how – we just did. It’s like that sometimes in life, you just connect with people and you look into their lives and their hearts and find out what they are about. Sometimes you just click with someone.

Just moments after meeting her, I knew she was a genuine person. I knew she was real and kind. I knew she was generous and funny. She is quite a bit older than I am, but we connected just the same.

Today, she came back to our location. She passed by my office door and I ran out to greet her. We hugged one another and spent some time talking. And at the end of the conversation, she said something about her baby bump. I asked if she were pregnant and she confirmed that she was.

She never knew, but I wondered many times of how I could help her with this. I was very willing to either carry a child for her or help her in carrying her own. I never told her that – I couldn’t. She has no idea what I had done – I believe if she did, it would have changed things. I will never tell her – seems odd now.

So many times in the last few years, I have felt the want and need to take care of others in the way that I caused pain. I have wanted to help someone that has wanted and is unable to have children. It’s in my heart and it’s in my mind. What I did does not make a bit of difference to me and how I want to help. What I did so many years ago makes me want to do it even more. I owe them that.

finding someone old

Just a moment ago, I thought about someone that I hurt – a couple. Their faces came into my mind out of nowhere, so I searched for them. And I found them.

I stared at each of their pictures – remembering what we spoke about, remembering details in their lives, remembering what I once told them. In one of their pictures, one of them is holding a little girl – I assume their daughter. The other picture is one of them smiling wide – she reminds me of my first psychologist in that way.

For a few years now, I had wondered if they adopted. They seem to have vanished after they found out that I wasn’t real. I wanted to apologize to them, but I didn’t have the chance. I wrote several letters, but could never send them.

These two women were wonderful and kind to me. They loved with their entire hearts and showed their care and concern in ways that barely anyone does. I remember reading poetry with them – something I had written about a year prior. She understood the pain in it.

I could never remember which one I talked to on the phone, but the one I did, was always warm and welcoming. I talked to the other one every now and then too and she was the same. In so many ways, they both understood me – the me I presented to them.

I feel that I have so much to say to them, things I wasn’t ever able to say. I still want to apologize, even though it’s been several years.

I’m sure their hearts have healed and that they have moved on. It seems that they have adopted and I couldn’t be happier for them. I wish I had never hurt them – they never deserved that.

If I close my eyes and am quiet enough, I can hear our conversations. I can feel the caring that was shown to me. I can feel the easy conversation and the heartfelt words. If I relax enough, I can feel okay about what I've done to them ... not that I don't regret it because I will always regret what I've done, but I can feel like what I've done was part of my growing up - part of my past and part of my mistakes.

On some level, I’m sure they knew this.

not the time

I read a blog post today about a family going through an adoption loss. She wasn’t sure if it was a scam or if it were a real situation and the mother changed her mind.

It seems though, that she was assuming it was an adoption scam. Her writing confirmed this.

I read about three prior posts of hers and I can confirm that it was absolutely a scam. It doesn’t seem as though it was for money, probably emotional. The ways that this young girl presented herself, the way she made excuses for things as the time got closer to her delivery – it made sense to me, but perhaps not to someone starting out in an adoption.

I can tell that this is such because I have gone that path – I’ve traveled that route. I was the scammer in situations such as this.

I felt a significant urge to comment on that post – to send her an email. I felt badly for this woman, a woman I didn’t know, but somehow knew so well. I’ve been around the people I’ve hurt and I’ve seen and heard their tears. I’ve felt their love for someone they thought was real. I’ve wanted to heal their pain even though I was the one to cause it – which simply doesn’t make any sense to someone on the opposite end.

I didn’t comment, it wouldn’t have been right if someone ‘like me’ did so. One day, perhaps I will have the courage to do something like this, but now was not the time.

needing something

Sometimes it seems like they needed something as much as I needed something.

The want for it was real. The yearning in each of our hearts for it were true.

What they wanted was a physical and emotional thing. Mine was purely emotional.

They wanted to add a baby to their family. I wanted to feel loved and cared about.

Their were people that wished death and imprisonment upon me – and I wonder if the same thing would be wished upon someone simply searching for love and finding it in the wrong place. What if it were your child? A sister? A friend?

Would you judge them and wish upon them, what you wished upon me?

the other day

The other morning, I was getting ready for work – going about my usual routine. And out of nowhere, my mind went back to thinking about one of the last person I scammed. Tears came streaming down my face and they wouldn’t stop. I let them fall as my mind wandered backwards into the last time I saw her.

She comes into my mind often, as she is probably the person I feel most responsible for – the person I feel extremely badly for – because I hurt her so badly. I hurt several people and I feel badly for each one of them, but she is different and I cannot really explain how or why.

Well, perhaps I could.

She forgave me for what I have done to her. She looked at me in the face and told me that she didn’t understand why I did it, but that she forgives me. I remember crying as she stood in front of me, not knowing what to say other than, “I’m sorry”. She spoke for the most part and said that she knew I was sorry and asked that I never do it again.

One of the reasons I found myself in this spot was because I was searching for love. I didn’t much care where it came from as long as it felt safe and that I had control of it. And this felt ‘safe’ to me. I didn’t have to see the person I was talking to. I didn’t think I’d ever have to meet them. I could always keep a distance – and that allowed me to ‘control’ it. It seemed like they needed something as much as I needed something. I didn’t know that I’d be hurting them so badly in the end. I realized that when I got caught – when I looked into the faces of the people I hurt. For that, I’m thankful that I was caught.

But as we stood in front of one another, tears falling from both of our faces, she grabbed and held my hands. She told me that she cared about me and that she loved me – for me, not the person I was pretending to be.

I had no idea at that time what those words would do for me while I was in recovery. They have comforted me, have helped me heal and have still left me very sorry for what I’ve done.

She remains in my heart, not necessarily just as the person I once scammed, but as a human being, as a survivor and a person full of strength. I thanked her for what she said back at that time. She hugged me tight and told me once again that she forgave me. For whatever reason, she won’t leave my mind or heart. I don’t want to forget her, but it sometimes feels like I cannot move forward if she remains in those places.

I wonder if she thinks about me too, if she still thinks about what she once did. When I think of her, I don’t always think of the pain I caused her. I wonder if it’s the same for her as well.

it can happen

I’m watching Larry King on television right now. He’s speaking with Mackenzie Phillips.

It seems as though he doesn’t believe her when she tells him that she has been sexually abused by her father. He doesn’t believe incest is a problem and that it is really very rare. He doesn’t believe Mackenzie would still care for her father if he did this to her. He seems appalled that she would get pleasure from the sexual experience. He doesn’t seem to think that people can overcome this – that they will always remain broken.

I think he’s quite uninformed. I think he may not know what he’s discussing. I think that with all the people he’s interviewed, he should know that anything is possible.

I know that incest is a problem – that it’s an unspoken problem. I know that you can still love the people that abuse you – because they are not only a part of your family, but because you realize that they were just as broken. I know that any sexual experience will produce feelings of enjoyment. I know that it doesn’t mean you are enjoying the person that is abusing you, but that you’re human and we all have sexual reactions that we cannot control. I know that people can get through this, that they can become a stronger, smarter and wiser individual after being sexually abused by a family member.

I know it’s possible – all of it, because it happened to me. I know it’s possible because I’ve felt it. I still care about the people that abused me. It’s hard not to. I understand their past, the struggles they’ve gone through. I’ve lived their lives. I know that I am growing and learning. I know that I am no longer a broken individual, but that I am strong and have learned from this.

I think if people took only a moment to walk in another persons shoes, they’d be more understanding. If they took a second to think of how that persons past has affected the choices they’ve made, they’d be more understanding.

I believe if you’d listen to what my childhood was life, the mistakes I’ve made would make sense. You may never agree with what I did, but then again, neither can I.