For two weeks it kept playing on my mind, I just couldn’t believe it could be true. Then one
Friday night a friend told me I needed to go talk to my family, he wouldn’t tell me why but I
had to do it now, so we went out to my sister Sue’s house and knocked on the door.
That was the night I finally got up enough courage to ask the question, it was surreal, it was
like time stopped, I felt numb, no numb doesn’t even describe it, maybe dumb, I don’t
know??? It was 21 years ago and it still feels like yesterday. , I have struggled just to come
to terms with the news ever since. I have been very confused and conflicted.
On one hand I had a great childhood, was raised by two loving parents and had four older
sisters, Ellen, Glenys, Sue and Dianne sometimes a pain but we had a big happy family. We
went holidaying together, spent most Sundays at home for the family lunch and were very
close. On the other hand, these people who loved me so much had lied to me for all my life
and I felt angry but didn’t know how to act on it.
As it turned out one of my sisters Glenys was really my mother. Apparently she fell
pregnant with me when she was only 16 years old to a 21 year old man, YUK! Sue called her
and told her that I had found out about the adoption, she came to see me the next day. “I
don’t know what to say” was about all she had to offer me, not even sorry. She told me that
when she was pregnant with me she had met another man. After I was born they ran away
with me for six months, I don’t know where, (conflicting stories) but couldn’t cope with a
new baby. So they came home with me and she handed me over to her mother, my
biological grandmother. I was raised thinking my Grandmother was really my mother. I felt
so betrayed, how could I ever trust anyone again??
So with all that anger and not knowing who to take it out on I started drinking, a lot,
smoking cannabis, thought of suicide and started partying all the time. Then my next great
idea was to find my biological father. John Evans was all anyone would tell me about him so
I decided to find him myself. One drunken night I called every Evans in the phone book and
asked if they knew him. Finally I reached his mother and she seemed delighted to hear from
me. , That was weird but she gave me his number and told me he lived with his family in
Victoria. I was happy to hear that because I thought if I focused my anger on him, (didn’t
know him or care about him), it would help make me feel better about the situation. Itt
didn’t, it only made things worse. The phone rang and a woman picked up, I asked, really
rudely “do you know John Evans”? She said “yes, he’s my husband” and I said “Do you know
he has a daughter, it’s Anne”. OMG, luckily he had told her all about me, she was wondering
when they would hear from me. , I was shocked, she was a really nice lady and I could have
ruined their family if he hadn’t been honest with her. John wasn’t home but she said he
would be happy to hear that I finally knew.
Not long after that he and his family moved back to my home town and soon got in contact
with me. I was curious so I made a time to meet with him, he never showed up. I was very
upset and angry that he could blow me off so easily, making this guy pay was going to be
great. A few days later he called me again, apologizing for not meeting me as planed, he
used a few excuses like he got the time wrong, then it was the place he went to wasn’t the
place we had discussed then he finally said he was called to an emergency with his son Ross
who lived in the next town, about an hour away. He told me he was sorry and wanted to
make it up to me so I agreed to meet with him again at one of the local pubs, this time he
showed up. I think I was the rudest, most obnoxious mean person on the planet, I swore at
him, demanded he buy me drinks and called him every bad name I could think of. I wouldn’t
have blamed him if he had of just walked out, but he didn’t, he was very understanding and
knew I was angry. Everything I said he laughed off and just accepted the abuse, so I didn’t
stop, I kept going at him and at him for a long time and he still wanted to know me, his
family still wanted to know me, confusing me even more. I was having a lot of trouble
dealing with the emotions of having this man and his family just accepting me for who and
what I was, all I wanted from him was to fight for me not just put up with me so I just shut
him out.
I couldn’t get him out of my mind so my Mum (biological grandmother) stepped in and
offered to try to help me deal with my feelings, she arranged for her and I to go to his house
one day and meet all of his family, he has two daughters Julie and Sara and two sons Angus
and Ross. Sara was the youngest of them and the one most interested in me, she was happy
she had discovered she had another big sister, the others were very quiet and reserved just
like me, it was a very awkward visit, we didn’t stay for very long, I had to leave. They
seemed like a family that I could be a part of but it just didn’t seem right so we left and I
didn’t see them for a while after that. My Mum said she would do anything to help me all I
had to do was make up my mind what I wanted, but I couldn’t. My life was out of control, I
didn’t know what I wanted, I didn’t feel like I fitted in or belonged anywhere anymore.
And what if I had not?
I would be dead by now.
Dead of my anger.
Dead of my goodness.
Dead of my anger
at my stinking goodness.
Imagine yourself
in a room with a box.
And you don’t know
what’s in it.
And you don’t know
why you shouldn’t.
When you closed your eyes
you would see that box.
When you opened your eyes
you would see that box.
That box was my life.
My life was in the box.
When I opened the box
I was letting out my life.
Oh you get blamed
because of others’
closed boxes. But
even with all of the
openings and closings
my life has been since then
I have not
ever
once
even a
single second
regretted it.