When was the last time you felt real? For me, it happened recently on a street corner in Boone, North Carolina. I’ve been working with a group of other adoptees on being present in our lives. We’ve talked about those moments that catch you off guard, when you are immersed in something you are passionate about, where you completely lose all sense of the false self and the wholeness of you is shining in all its glory. I can usually identify those real moments thanks to the choking lump that forms in my throat and the tears that well up in my eyes without warning. We were on vacation and happened upon a café in Boone that operates on a pay-what-you-can system. My husband spent quite a bit of time in the café while they were preparing to open for the day, discussing how they run the business and what it means for the people they serve. I had left him there to visit while I continued down the street, visiting the local shops. When I circled back to meet him again, I spent about eight minutes inside the café and received the abbreviated version of their model from the manager on duty. To say I was inspired is an understatement, and as we finally left the café and headed down the street to rejoin our friends, I found it difficult to speak the words that were insisting they come out. There it was, that lump and the tears that reminded me that I was in the moment.
What struck me a few days later was why I was able to experience that moment so wholeheartedly. As our first flight departed to take us home, the tears started to well up again, and they spilled down my cheeks for more time than I was prepared for. I just couldn’t stop them, nor could I stop the heavy grief I was feeling as we flew home. Don’t get me wrong. I was happily anticipating seeing the kids who were awaiting our return on the home end. I love them, and they feed my soul. But what I was grieving was the self I had spent the last week being. The one that had seen her first mom and bio sister early in the trip. The one that became grounded in self after seeing them, even if it was just for a few hours. I was reminded of who I come from. That me spent the rest of our trip more present than usual. I laughed harder and more joyfully, including frequent bouts of tears streaming down my face from genuine happiness. I spent time experiencing the beauty of our surroundings with my whole body. Yes, everyone relaxes and enjoys life differently while on vacation. But for me, the physical location of this trip, where I felt closer to my roots and was traveling closer-than-usual to where I come from, allowed me to simply be. I relaxed into my own being and felt real. There’s no place like home, especially the home that adoptees so deeply long for. And every time I leave the people and places that were my first home, I have to grieve again. Integrating that real self into my every day self is so hard. I’ve spent 90% of my life functioning in an assumed role. That was who I learned to be in order to survive. I want to live, truly live, and experience the remaining portion of my life wholeheartedly, without fear, so that no matter where I am, I will feel like I am home, and I belong.