I hate holidays. I get this innate, overwhelming knowledge that somewhere nearby, in this very city, my birth relatives are gathering for tradition and celebration. Except me, of course, since I'm not supposed to exist.
Except I KNOW. I can feel it in my blood, like a rising tide. I should be with them. Blood calls to blood. But I'm not, and even if I knew their names or where they were, they wouldn't welcome me.
I'm a secret.
I am shame.
I'm a bastard.
My distant Irish ancestors weep. They want to know why I am severed. I have no answers. I'm not allowed to have answers.
My children ask me questions. I have no answers. They're not allowed to have answers, either.
My mother's brief contact revealed little about my life.
It was a mistake.
I'm a mistake.
I don't exist.
My mother doesn't want me to exist.
If I did know who and where my birth family was, and I was stupid enough to go there, they could easily have me arrested. My mother filed denial of contact with the state, criminalizing me for wanting my original birth certificate. Never mind that I have zero way to identify her. Never mind that the incompetent Illinois CI program gave her my identifying info without my consent. She knows exactly who and where I am yet I still have nothing.
I am a criminal for wanting to know my origins.
I am a criminal for continuing to want to know my origins after being told to shut up and go away.
I am a criminal for publicly disagreeing with adoption policies and practices.
I am a criminal for standing up for myself.
Meanwhile, everyone's talking about all the lucky Illinois adoptees who are getting their birth certificates. Oh, except those who were denied. And those from certain adoption agencies who are essentially filling in the blanks with, "We don't feel like telling you." And those whose information was never recorded, was recorded in error, was falsified, was destroyed, is mysterously "missing," or exists in another state or country. Hmmmm. That seems like a lot of exceptions for a law that gave "all" Illinois adoptees their rights.
I am a pariah for not sacrificing myself so others can have access.
I am a pariah for standing up for left-behind adoptees.
I am a pariah for not accepting the status quo.
I am a pariah for insisting upon equal rights for everyone.
I hope my mother is reading this. I hope the Illinois politicians are reading this. I hope every single person who is getting their Illinois OBC is reading this. I hope every last one of you who has ever supported a conditional law is reading this.
And I hope all my fellow nonexistent denied bastards and our counterparts, those uppity hell-raising first mothers, are reading this.
If we are shame... then so are the people who shame us.
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