Rescuing Her Rescuing Me

When I was a teenager and I would visualize my future, I saw myself in a flowy skirt and tshirt riding my bike (wicker basket included) daily to the nearby school where I was a teacher. There was a feeling of contentment in my heart, and a flower in my hair. I could feel that feeling in my dreams. I was happy, and probably because it was the only place I had ever visited with an ocean....in this dream I was always in Florida.

The difficult part about putting my life into words is that my life includes people that might not want aspects of their life put into words....much less my words. The last two years have been a struggle between being completely honest and experience any judgement, opinion, and loss that might follow or staying safe but inauthentic. So I did neither. I went into a composition cocoon and just pretended my life was what I assumed others expected it to be until I was brave enough to experience the pain of potential rejection. I never would have expected when I started sharing my adoption experience that anyone would even read it, but that years later there would come a time when my daughter's story of adjustment and transformation would cross streams into mine, the strong current leaving me no choice but to step forward in transparency.

Richa wasn't my first rescue you know....I had been rescuing for years before her. I was a pro. Sometimes it was in big ways and others in small but I was always carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I had rescued aggressive dogs from shelter life, friends and family from tumultuous relationship dynamics, dinner conversations from any lulls or moments of awkwardness, and so on. Rescuing gave me a sense of purpose and of value. Children learn early how to get love. They're smart and they'll do whatever it takes to feel a connection to their caregivers. I learned early on that it felt good to be needed. There was a sense of security in it. Love might fade, but no one will leave me if they need me right?? Feeling needed wasn't the same as being loved though. It didn't feel good....it felt like a quick shot of relief and then depletion. Even so, I needed people to need me so I could rescue them, and feel valued. It was so innate by the time I was an adult I didn't even realize I was doing it, but I was. And it was a cycle that left me feeling used, unappreciated, sad, and usually resentful.

On the outside I looked like I was living the dream….doctor husband with a booming practice, beautiful adopted teenage daughter from India, 2 dogs, a perfectly manicured lawn, and the recipient of dozens of holiday cards and party invites each year. Regardless, on the inside I was lonely, professionally unfulfilled, anxious, and depressed. More than anything, I was absolutely exhausted. I had completely abandoned myself to try and get the attention and validation from Andrew that always seemed out of reach, and become his priority. I was the caregiver to a daughter that still didn't speak to me, hug me, go to the kitchen or walk around the house if I was home much less call me mom, and I desperately wanted to be rescued from this life that I had created for myself. After 13 years of marriage, many years of therapy, hundreds of city bus and billboard sightings with Andrew's face plastered on it, and countless early exits from parties and social events alone.....I realized I was living the dream. But it wasn't mine.

I looked around my empty home one night and I broke. “Ok I thought, I’m willing to lose everything. I can’t do this anymore.”

That's when I chose. Against what anyone else thought or said or how much I might be misunderstood......against how much I didn't want my reality to be my reality and how afraid I was of the future.....I chose. And I chose me. Not the perfect me worthy of love that I had tried to become, but me. Playful, homebody, outdoorsy, thoughtful, imperfect, moody, silly, emotional, creative, afraid, curious, full of value and love and a lot of inappropriate humor....me. It was a risk that I no longer could afford not to take. I couldn't hide in this relationship anymore out of fear. I was dying inside.

I'm writing this last blog in between virtual parent/teacher meetings at my kitchen table while my precious precious boyfriend patiently helps Richa form sentences that don't start with "I". He comes by often to kiss me on the cheek and read a little bit of my writing. Something Andrew never did. When I'm finished writing and Richa is taking a "brain break" as I like to call them, we're going to get in the row boat that came with the home I'm leasing here in Florida, and paddle around the lake behind our house. He's my favorite playmate, and we spend many evenings at home together. Exactly what I've always wanted.

Leaving my marriage came with a lot of loss. I lost good standing in the eyes of many. I lost my spot at the weekly football tailgate with my friends. I lost my invite to many social events. And I lost many people. This year during the holidays I received 6 cards.

Richa is with me right now, and has been for many weeks due to the virus that has recently infected our nation. Since this is my last blog post I feel like I should have some sort of life projection to tie up our story. But to be honest....looking forward, I don't know what the future holds for Richa. Or any of our lives really? She seems very happy living the majority of the time in her father's world where she can spend time with his mother (her beloved grandmother) often, experience the fun and adoration from his lively circle of friends, and be home schooled with her best friend. All I want for her is to be happy. But I've had to let go of how that looks, and what my role, if any, will be in her happiness.

I've retired from rescuing in my personal life, and thankfully I have a partner that doesn't need nor want to be rescued, but I will always have a heart for helping others. Except now it's more from a place of happiness, gratefulness, and ease than an empty barrel desperately waiting to be filled. My relationships feel more balanced, and my friendships bring me so much joy and laughter. If you've read my blog over the last four years and joined alongside me in some way during our adoption journey, thank you. If you love my daughter and are a part of her or her father's life in any way, bless you. I will always care for him dearly. If you've reached out to me over the last two years during my separation and divorce your kindness will never be forgotten.

All my love,

Legan