My problems with my boyfriend at the moment have me dwelling on those evil 3 letter words. I sit here and wonder how many adoptees have problems with telling people that they love them. I don’t mean the occasionally “love ya” when you’re leaving their presence. I mean the true; “Hey, I really love you.”
Is it just me? Is this a nature or nurture thing? Is it because of the separation from my mother at birth or the fact that I didn’t grow up in a cuddly environment and these words weren’t said too often?
It’s true that I haven’t told Cameron that I love him. Not really anyway. It goes something like this:
Him: “I love you.”
Me: “You know how I feel.”
Him: “No actually I don’t. Can you tell me?
Me: Let’s not get into anything too emotional right now ok? I can’t handle it.
There have been a few people in my life that I’ve been able to say it to freely. Simply and freely, without hesitation: My best friend Kala, My other best friend, Erin, my grandmother, who is deceased now and recently to my natural brother.
I have told my natural mom that I love her, the day my brother was leaving here. I’m not sure what came over me except that I felt extremely grateful to her for accepting me as I am and for producing and nurturing such a kind, compassionate and loving son. But then after I hung up, I found myself wondering if I would be like Kieran had she raised me. I’m not saying that I’m not kind and compassionate, but I have my moments, and stupid people especially bother me. (yes, I know that is so totally not nice to say – see?) The other people that I can truly tell that I love them and mean it whole heartedly are children. I love little people. They are so pure and innocent. Such beautiful human beings. If I could snap my fingers and become anything I wanted to be, besides maybe a true cancer survivor, would be a child. They are carefree, non-judgmental and give their love freely. You don’t have to pay emotionally for it. I love being around children more than I love anything else. Which is really a cruel twist of adoption karma that I can’t have my own children.
Anyway, back to those 3 little words. I think I love Cameron. I mean, I think about him when he’s not around. When I go shopping, I see these little “Cameron items” and I must get them for him. Then I smile thinking about him. When I was sad, I called Cameron. When I was happy, I called Cameron. But he is right, that has changed. I’ve now been calling Kieran. I find the most comfort, a true comfort in his voice. After talking to him, I feel like things will be okay. Is that wrong? Are my priorities off? Why can’t I know for sure if I love Cameron? I can’t just say it if I don’t mean it either, right?
I can’t tell my adoptive mother that I love her. I just can’t. Unlike the Cameron situation, I feel deep in my heart that I love my adoptive mother. Yet, I can’t tell her. The words sound ridiculous in my head
when I even think about it. Here is how that usually goes:
Her: “Well you take care. You know I love you.”
Me: Me too mom, thanks.
And my dad – It usually goes something like this:
Him: I love you sweetie
Me: Thanks dad , I’ll talk to you later.
Seriously, what the heck is wrong with me? Did I grow up without enough love that I subconsciously don’t realize? Is it adoption/separation related? It’s never bothered me before until now that it is threatening my relationship with my boyfriend.
Cameron is really hot. He’s super sweet. He opens the door for women and pulls out their chairs (even strangers in restaurants) He is very intelligent, specifically scientifically. He has a bright future ahead of him. And this guy loves me! But I can’t say it to him. Maybe it’s because I think I’m not good enough for him? Is it because I feel useless as a woman (no female repro parts, and getting ready to lose m y hair again.) Maybe it’s because I don’t think he deserves to deal with a 25 year old girlfriend/wife who is in surgical menopause and wakes up with the bed entirely wet, sometimes even screaming? Maybe it’s because in my heart I am beginning to doubt that I will survive this evil ovarian cancer and he doesn’t deserve to have that type of pain? Or maybe I am afraid he will leave me like my mother did? Maybe it’s a combination of all of these things?
