Twenty-five years ago today I gave up my firstborn, and it nearly killed me. It was a cold day with mean pelting rain and stormy dark skies. There was no sunlight the entire day. For many years I was certain God left me that day.
I don’t talk much about that time — the ravaging pain, the societal shame, the bio confusion, the uncivil ignorance, the palpable anger, the bitter jealousy, the desperate loneliness. It made people uneasy — all that mess and emotion — which, of course, only exasperated the experience. Every year was a struggle, a loss, a choice. Time doesn’t heal this wound — it just gives you space to learn how to manage it. I openly chose to focus on the amazing, the love, and the light in hopes it would make the world a little less cruel for my child out there, but it never diminished the dark side. How do you live in a constant dichotomy of the soul like that? This – this song. This is a-lot-of how.
Today my gratitude is for all the people who found me over the last 25 years, whether they realized it or not. Those who lifted me (sometimes literally “broken on the ground”), who carried me, who cleaned me up, who fed me, who helped me learn to carry myself, who steadied me, who trusted me, who never gave up on me, who cheered for me, and even the ones who left me. And I’m equally grateful for the birthmomma sisters I’ve found over the last 10 years — you make me feel normal.
Today I took the Monkey out to break in his new skateboard. He tripped when I was filming, “Don’t let anyone see that!” he cried.
And there it was — my life lesson that only became brilliantly clear when I had to teach it to my boy: We’re all gonna trip, fall, even skid face-first down a mountain of glass. Do it. Fully. Let them see you fall, bleed, torn. Repeatedly, if necessary. Hugely. Then let them watch you rise — stronger, wiser, wholly. And hopefully they too will find their own courage to risk and rise.
Today the skies were a brilliant endless blue with crisp autumn air and a sunlight that kissed my cheeks — such a vastly different day than those yesteryears, but only made possible because of them.
Reflecting on this irrevocable 25-year journey, I’m humbled, awestruck, and grateful. I now know God never left me — He just took on many different forms at different times over the years, but always had my back.
Pure gratitude.💗
