Magic, thats what she was supposed to be, something that would take all of my pain away. The one thing that would "fix" me. I believed I was broken and needed to be fixed. If only I could find her.
As a young child, I fantasized so much about her. She was someone famous, someone rich, someone that was going to put me first, someone who was going to take away all of my fears. I would stare out of my bedroom window, waiting for her to and get me. I actually expected to see her walking down the street towards my house. This stung so much more when I found out she knew who my adoptive parents were and knew how to find me. I had nothing but a name that she no longer went by. Most of all she was going to hug me and hold me tight. I would feel the thing that was never given to me, A mother's embrace. I would never feel what I was denied, what was taken from me.
It took me many years before I would realize that I would never know what that feels like. I was robbed and will live my life, forever knowing that, at my most vulnerable I wasn't wanted. I came into this world unwanted by the only person I had known for nine months. The next day I was given to total strangers for them to raise as their own.
So no magic bullet or pill would fix me. I was broken at birth and would have to find a way to heal and come to terms with what happened. Ten years after finding her, I met my father (he didn't know about me at all ) and was welcomed "home" with open arms. For the first time I felt "right". While I am incredibly angry that it took 48 years for me to actually start to heal, I look forward to my journey with the family I never knew.
You are not alone. -- Scott