In therapy, there are your typical weeks. Weeks that feel standard, or normal, or as expected.
But there are other days which feel much more…powerful.
They’re not expected, not scheduled or thought about or created…they just happen.
I’m struggling with how best to word it, because for me, it was such a powerful moment.
We were talking about adoption (because of my birth son having a birthday this week, I really struggled).
And we were talking about the specific conversations I’ve had with my birth sons parents the past few weeks. How, over and over again, they keep telling me that the moment is very quickly nearing when they will want my birth son to meet me. He’s 9 now, and has been expressing interest in meeting me for a while now.
So we were talking about that, and how when that day does come, it’s going to be extremely hard for me, and open up some serious wounds. And it’s going to hurt. A lot. It will be so hard. But I said I’d be there for him, no matter what.
I said that I didn’t have a choice, it’s just something I have to do, regardless of how much it hurts.
I HAVE to be there for him no matter what it does to me. But she kept telling me that it was a choice.
I disagreed, and said that it doesn’t feel like a choice. I said I would be there for my son whenever and however he needed.
And she kept insisting that I do have a choice. I don’t have to meet him. I don’t HAVE to. It’s a choice. (To make me feel better and like I’m doing a good thing, even though it’s hard).
Anyway, we went back and forth on that for a while. And how even though it doesn’t feel like a choice, it is.
I continued to disagree.
But then she told me something about her life, about how she knew someone close to her who was adopted, and her birth mom denied contact. She said no, she didn’t want to open the door to all of that pain and heartache. Which, yeah. I totally understand. It’s a huge, huge thing.
But it was just one of those moments where I was like…oh. Okay. I hear you now.
It is a choice. And it’s hard, yes. I’m still going to say yes to my son, but I don’t have to. I’m going to show up for him…but I don’t have to.
It was one of those moments that meant a lot to me. It was heavy in a good way. And it did change my perspective.
I’m so grateful that I have a person in my life that I’m finally trusting enough to allow to help. It’s been an insanely long time. But I think I finally have my walls down enough to the point where we can actually make some legitimate progress. And I’m glad I have someone that I know will help me through all the difficult moments that may be coming up in the future.
Sometimes choices don’t feel like choices, but they still are. And I guess that does make me feel a little bit better.
So, yeah. Therapy went well last night. And I left feeling better than I came. I heard things in a different way, and it just was good.
We did adjust my drinking goal this week to try to decrease it a little bit, so we’ll see how that goes this week. But I did it last night, and I’m going to try again today.
All I can do is keep trying, and keep showing up.