A letter to Anne

Dear Anne,

Growing up in a sleepy little country town was for me a little confusing.  I always felt something was out of place so it didn’t come as a surprise to find out that I was adopted.  I was 21 when I found out. At first it was rather exiting and in a small way comforting to finally understanding why something felt out of place – that something being me!

Not long after this news, I set out on a quest to find you.  I’m sure in some way I believed that my search would have a happy ending.  But to be honest, deep down in the pit of my stomach – I knew I was kidding myself. Year after year past by, search after search:  5 years, 10 years, 15 years, 20 years and now nearing 30 years of waiting for you to contact me.  Up until about 10 years ago I wasn’t agry because I understood what it was like to be young, unmarried and pregnant.

Birthdays were usually a bad time for me as my mind went over so many scenarios surrounding my birth and what type of relationship you had with my birth father, who to this day remains nameless.

I even understood why you didn’t name me, although I did feel a little less of a person when I finally received my birth certificate with the ‘unnamed watkins’ in the space where a name should be.  I’m a practical person and probably wouldn’t have named the baby myself,  knowing full well the adoptive parents would more than likely change the name.  Maybe you have a secret name you give me?

But as the years rolled by and more and more media exposure given to adoptions, I thought that maybe you would finally try and search for me.  Unlike you, I would be very easy to find. It’s this realisation that is making me more and more angry at you. Surely watching shows like ‘Find my family’ opens up old wounds or are you so worried that your life will be turned upside down you can’t take the risk?  Or may be you have led a life where people perceive you to be somthing you’re not and finding out the truth would expose you.  I guess I’ll never know.

And that is the crutch of the matter – I guess I’ll never know.

My family tree begins with me, and it’s very lonely at the top.

I don’t want to adopt you as my mother, because you’re not – you bought me into this world and walked away. My ‘real’ mother loved and cared for me as did my father as if I was their own.  I do however, need to understand my DNA – what makes me who I am?

Environmental factors do not make up the essense of a person. However, it does have a significant impact on a person’s well being and happiness. Physical aspects such as DNA have a stronger impact on a person’s physical makeup, what they think and what they do with the information they have.

And that’s why I’m looking for you Anne, to understand what’s gone on before me, my ancestry, inherent talents, medical history and to look into a face where I recognise pieces of me.

Best wishes