Identity

I struggled with identity growing up. Being adopted, I wondered who I really was--who did I belong to, where was my real family, what were my real roots? It's hard enough trying to define yourself as a teenager, fighting all the peer pressure, and then to have this vital piece of your puzzle gone from the box...I was utterly lost. I had no idea how I fit into my world and wasn't even sure that I wanted to. I hated life and tried a few times to cut it short. Obviously unsuccessfully. I'm still here.

It's gotten easier as an adult to find those definitions that make me who I am. And it's not wrapped up in knowing my birth family. They're certainly not who I am. They're just people I share some DNA with. It took me way too long to figure that one out.

I'm a wife who adores her husband. A mom who can't believe how lucky she is to have this crazy, whacky, beautiful boy that is the very song of my heart. I'm an artist. I'm a writer. I'm a friend. A sister. A daughter of God. I am what I love.

I'm blessed beyond words.