sooooooo
I uh.. applied to the New York City Department of Health to get info off my adoption records a number of months ago.. it's been probably at least 6 months since I did it.. and that's about how long they said it would take - AT LEAST.. Anywhere up to years of waiting. I pushed the whole thing to the back of my mind ever since, figuring it'd probably be a few years since I heard from them. I mean, it took them MONTHS to correct the SPELLING of my middle name on my birth certificate and ALL they did was cross the fucking thing out and re-write it over top of the old one!!
Well. Yesterday I got the info. I haven't opened it yet. I will, with time. So far I've seen through the envelope that my biological mother was 18 when she had me and that she was from the Dominican Republic. This makes me at LEAST half Dominican. I'm a fucking platano. THIS will kill all my friends back in New York.. I've been so proud of my adoptive heritage of Puerto Rican/Cuban! And now I'm DOMINICAN?! Well there's the fucking HAIR, all explained. I have Dominican hair. Really BAD Dominican hair. With a double crown. lol. Fucking hair. I hate it! I'm jealous of white people hair. :(
So I'm Dominican.
What else am I?! I'm kind of dying to know..... but I also don't want to open the fucking thing. Maybe I'm half Italian. I could see that. I could definitely see that. Who fucking knows? I don't. But I will. When I gather up the nerve to open this. For now, I'm just going to carry it around. Yes, the whole envelope. It's already getting really wrinkly and weird. But I don't care. The paperwork will still be there and will still have my information on it, wrinky or not. I will finally know where I came from, what my biological family history is, in regards to illness, traits, so on and so forth.
This will be possibly the most defining moment of my life. Or it might not be. I might just laugh, like I did when I found through the envelope opening that I'm Dominican. But, at the same time, I can't just laugh. This is me and this is real. And, for all I know, I might never be able to look at my adoptive parents the same way again.
My mother is 40 now, wherever she is, if she's even still alive. Maybe the envelope will at least tell me whether or not she's deceased. Why did she give me up? She was 18. Maybe she was incredibly poor? Living on her own? Maybe she couldn't support me and get an education or work or both at the same time? Maybe she was a high school dropout, living with her boyfriend. Maybe she was just a dumb kid, who was maybe on drugs or something.. something that contributed to this fucked up body that I have.. Almost half man, half woman.. with my clearly visible adams apple, defined cheek bones, slightly larger than man-boob breasts, one hip masculine, one hip feminine... and I don't even know what to say about my legs. I just hate my legs. My knees in particular. They sit weird and make it impossible to wear a skirt. Not that this kid wants to wear skirts, other than for drag fun.
Maybe my mother was the sweetest girl you would ever know. Maybe she's out there somewhere with other kids.. my half-brothers or half-sisters..
And what of my father? Same deal? Maybe he left my mother to fend for herself and me? So she just gave me up? I don't know. No matter what it says in the envelope, all I'll really be able to do is guess, probably.
Some people have offered the option that my dad is actually my brother JR.. we're a lot alike.. Same skin color, similar facial features, I suppose.. Maybe he had me with his girlfriend Leslie way back when? No.. that couldn't be right? She has a girl who's about my age.. Alexis. We look more alike than anyone I know, though... right down to the mole that's on my right cheek........ she has the EXACT same mole on her left cheek. What if we were, like.. twins that were separated at birth to make shit cheaper for them?
Holy fuck I don't want to think about all these scenarios.... it makes my fucking brain spin like mad.
I've gotta stop this ride for a little while and step off.. I'm starting to get motion sickness. I'll open this envelope sometime.. but for now, it's staying right in my pocket.
Well. Yesterday I got the info. I haven't opened it yet. I will, with time. So far I've seen through the envelope that my biological mother was 18 when she had me and that she was from the Dominican Republic. This makes me at LEAST half Dominican. I'm a fucking platano. THIS will kill all my friends back in New York.. I've been so proud of my adoptive heritage of Puerto Rican/Cuban! And now I'm DOMINICAN?! Well there's the fucking HAIR, all explained. I have Dominican hair. Really BAD Dominican hair. With a double crown. lol. Fucking hair. I hate it! I'm jealous of white people hair. :(
So I'm Dominican.
What else am I?! I'm kind of dying to know..... but I also don't want to open the fucking thing. Maybe I'm half Italian. I could see that. I could definitely see that. Who fucking knows? I don't. But I will. When I gather up the nerve to open this. For now, I'm just going to carry it around. Yes, the whole envelope. It's already getting really wrinkly and weird. But I don't care. The paperwork will still be there and will still have my information on it, wrinky or not. I will finally know where I came from, what my biological family history is, in regards to illness, traits, so on and so forth.
This will be possibly the most defining moment of my life. Or it might not be. I might just laugh, like I did when I found through the envelope opening that I'm Dominican. But, at the same time, I can't just laugh. This is me and this is real. And, for all I know, I might never be able to look at my adoptive parents the same way again.
My mother is 40 now, wherever she is, if she's even still alive. Maybe the envelope will at least tell me whether or not she's deceased. Why did she give me up? She was 18. Maybe she was incredibly poor? Living on her own? Maybe she couldn't support me and get an education or work or both at the same time? Maybe she was a high school dropout, living with her boyfriend. Maybe she was just a dumb kid, who was maybe on drugs or something.. something that contributed to this fucked up body that I have.. Almost half man, half woman.. with my clearly visible adams apple, defined cheek bones, slightly larger than man-boob breasts, one hip masculine, one hip feminine... and I don't even know what to say about my legs. I just hate my legs. My knees in particular. They sit weird and make it impossible to wear a skirt. Not that this kid wants to wear skirts, other than for drag fun.
Maybe my mother was the sweetest girl you would ever know. Maybe she's out there somewhere with other kids.. my half-brothers or half-sisters..
And what of my father? Same deal? Maybe he left my mother to fend for herself and me? So she just gave me up? I don't know. No matter what it says in the envelope, all I'll really be able to do is guess, probably.
Some people have offered the option that my dad is actually my brother JR.. we're a lot alike.. Same skin color, similar facial features, I suppose.. Maybe he had me with his girlfriend Leslie way back when? No.. that couldn't be right? She has a girl who's about my age.. Alexis. We look more alike than anyone I know, though... right down to the mole that's on my right cheek........ she has the EXACT same mole on her left cheek. What if we were, like.. twins that were separated at birth to make shit cheaper for them?
Holy fuck I don't want to think about all these scenarios.... it makes my fucking brain spin like mad.
I've gotta stop this ride for a little while and step off.. I'm starting to get motion sickness. I'll open this envelope sometime.. but for now, it's staying right in my pocket.