Monday, September 12


I see compromise in a very skewed way. I am used to give give give. When someone agrees to compromise with me, it means I am taking, even if just a bit. I came back from my weekend in the woods feeling newly empowered, like it was OK for me to have to take some to make it.
Phil and I went very quickly from being happy, perfect to angry and fighting. It was all over a few stupid things, and it was time to put an end to it. When I got home Sunday, he came over. I could tell from the chill in his eyes that he had something going on but he would not tell me what. Eventually, it combusted. He could not hold it in anymore and he just let it spill. Most of what he was upset about is irrelevant here, but he was ready to compromise on the whole pot smoking ordeal. I guess I should go away more often, it seems to remind him that he does want me around.
We’ve come to an agreement that works for both of us. It works for me because he is GIVING some, because he sees my fear and is acknowledging it. It works for him because it means not losing me, not making me uncomfortable and angry. I am proud of him for this, yet I am amazed at how hard it was to let myself compromise. I am TERRIFIED that this compromise will lead to him resenting me, to him hating me and blaming it on me. (Thanks Erik, I needed that to carry around.) He and I discussed this, he calmed down and so did I. It was just awesome to me that I know I would not have been at a point to realize this had it not been for my weekend away.
My weekend in the woods with birthmoms, deer, a newt, a frog and raccoons was awesome. Yearly our local support group spends a weekend camping (well, ok, maybe not camping since we are in beds with a toilet and shower very nearby) in the woods. There is limited cell phone service, no wifi and no need for either. There is always a whole lot of laughter, many many hugs, tears and updates. This was my second year going and it felt so different from last year.
Last year (maybe I am biased because I felt sort of like an outsider) seemed to be more about laughing and visiting. This year was about healing. It was about emotional energy and recognizing your needs and that we are all different but oh so much the same. I love these get togethers. We are each in a different place in our grief, so we can help each other get through. Our newest placement was less than 2 months ago, the oldest was 19 years. It is just so awesome to get all of us in one place. From the second I walk into a room with my birthmom sisters, I feel love. I don’t know how it doesn’t glow through the doors and windows. I love and need them.
This post feels choppy and jumpy, but that is how I feel today. I am calling it an emotional hangover. I will post something more cohesive later, I just had to get this out there.
With Love Always

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