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Dear Birth Mother

A Letter from Your Daughter

By Freda MatteaPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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To My Birth Mother,

I was first told I was adopted when I was 5 years old. My best friend at the time learned that I was adopted and proceeded to tell me "Your parents aren't your real parents. Your real parents didn't want you and gave you up." I cried and cried that day. I ran away to the playground (a block away from my house, but for a five year old, that's a whole other country) and sat on the swings for hours until my parents, who had been 20 steps behind me the whole time, told me it was time to go home. I remember thinking to myself that where I had grown up wasn't my home. That I didn't have a home. I don't remember much from my childhood, but that I remember clear as day.

I spent the next few years being angry. At you, at my parents, and at my ex best friend. I thought I was a disappointment to you. That you wanted a baby, but when I popped out, I wasn't what you wanted. I thought you wanted to get as far away from me as humanly possible. I thought my parents took me out of pity, not because they wanted a family. I spent years being mad at my ex best friend because, well, let's be honest, he was a dick. But he was five, he didn't realize what those words meant.

Growing up and having that weight on me was hard. I remember having fights with my mother and saying, "Well you're not my real mom," and "You never should've adopted me in the first place." Things that haunt me to this day and I wish I could take back.

I'm older now, and I don't think about you much. Occasionally when someone asks me my heritage or when I'm at the doctors and they ask about my medical history. I'm sure if there was something alarming or worrying, it would've been in some file somewhere, but it always makes me wonder; wonder what you are like, what my biological family looks like. If you, like me, found a home in the arts or maybe you're some neurosurgeon somewhere.

Since the last time I saw you, 2 weeks old, 6lbs & 2oz, I've grown up in New York City. I've made friends, lost friends, broken hearts, and had my heart broken. I've gone from school to school trying to figure out who I am.

As I write this letter, I think about it not only from my perspective but from yours. You have a daughter in the world who you never got to watch grow up. I guess I'm writing this letter not only for me, but maybe in hopes that you'll read it one day. And if so, there are a few things I just want you to know.

  1. I'm okay.
  2. I have two loving parents, sometimes too loving, that look out for me.
  3. I've found a love for the theater and for acting, which can either be something you're extremely proud of or a huge disappointment for you... So... Sorry about that one...
  4. I have not found the love of my life yet, unless you count the billion actors who I fall in love with daily by watching them on Netflix and Hulu.
  5. I am strong. Maybe not physically, although I am pretty pro at picking things up and putting things down. But mentally.
  6. I have opinions. And I will let anyone who asks me for them have them. On full.
  7. I am working my way towards being happy. I am content with being content.

There are hundreds of other things that I would love to share with you but I cannot get my mind straight enough to tell them to you right now.

I cannot remember your name. I know I have been told it about 20 times before, but without a face, a name doesn't stick in my brain. I know it starts with an M. I know that I was born in Louisiana and I know you were young.

I'm not mad anymore. I understand that parents put their children up for adoption for many many reasons and it's very rarely out of hatred for the child. Honestly, I want to thank you. For giving me the life I have.

I hope that one day, I get to meet you or at least talk to you somehow. I'd love to see you. To see what parts of me physically I got from you, and maybe even personality traits.

I understand if you don't want that. That is your right. I'm not going to come bursting through your door and try to be part of your life. But just know that the option is always open for me.

I hope you are well. I hope that since I last saw you that things have gone the way you want. Maybe I have some siblings out there.

Just know that I'm okay.

Forever Yours,

Your Birth Daughter

adoption
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About the Creator

Freda Mattea

I am a 27 year old writer from NYC who has grown up in the theatre world. I have always loved writing and helping people out. Sometimes it's just enough to know you're not alone. I hope you enjoy what I have to say.

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