Wednesday-Sunday: During this trip I was grateful for having felt…

Elated after finishing half the draft of my vows to myself. My tattoo looks exactly how I wanted, my vows are turning out. I’m so excited to have my little river ceremony and continue to cherish myself every day. Loving myself feels like a super power. The world feels better, I’m able to be a better friend and lover, I’m more of a giver than a taker. It all starts within, what the fuck. I’m still choosing my middle name and look forward to finding out what it should be so I can throw a party!

Touched and seen by Bela. She had read my media post about the abuse and emailed me a beautiful response. It felt familiar and comfortable, I missed her poetic way of summarizing human experience, of making one feel seen. I’ll be in the area so I’m also feeling tortured as to whether I should invite her and the twins for a meeting. This email has begun a tiny voice in me that says “meet them, it will be good.”

Challenged and fancy by the fake nails I bought last minute for the wedding. I see the irony there but I’ll roll with it. They were so long I couldn’t use my hands for days but they were really fun. Besides this, wearing a dress was the only other “dress up” thing I did. I felt lovely.

Enchanted and very weepy at my friend’s wedding. I love this couple and I’m so excited to see them formally paired. Even with my worries about their mental health, I think they have the capacity and willingness to be great for each other. The ceremony was beautiful, held in a secret garden of sorts, and suited the bride perfectly. Weddings always have me looking at my own naked finger but this time I found it tattooed with my own promise. I felt infused with love for them, their family, my partner, and myself.

Absolutely elated getting to dance for hours at the wedding. It was a well-needed reminder to prioritize dancing in my life, almost nothing besides a sport gives me a body/mind high like dancing does. 

Terrified during our Uber ride back to the hotel after the wedding. There was only one option and it was horrible. It was raining, the guy either couldn’t see because the windshield wipers didn’t work or was on something because he’s swerving everywhere. I don’t have a seatbelt, another person’s was cut in half. Every single light on his dash was on, including his tire, swerve, engine, battery, and low fuel. He drove one handed, holding the map or texting with the other hand. Some part of the car was rattling so loudly we couldn’t hear anything over the noise. Everyone was silent, taking inventory, gripping each other in the backseat like our lives depended on it. I was barely blinking as I scanned the roads, my arms ready to shield my head on impact. My symbolic parents were waiting at the hotel driveway for us. I started crying when we saw the hotel and, with shaking legs, got just far enough out of the car to collapse crying onto my “father”. The only car accident I had was during rain so I’ve been a scared driver for years in those conditions. I was too scared to speak up and get out, completely frozen like everyone else. It was horrible. 30 minutes of an inner dialogue “I’ve lived a good life, I’ve lived a good life, I’m grateful for the life I’ve gotten to live.”

Comforted and kind of taken aback by how good it felt to cry on my adoptive father. He didn’t even blink: he was it in my face and just enveloped me. I think this may be the first time I’ve been held by an adult male while crying that wasn’t a partner. Ludvig was a father but we didn’t touch, we hugged maybe twice. The experience was so surreal I ended it earlier than I wanted to. But I felt so incredibly loved and taken care of. And very very grateful.

Goofy and connected with Cubu at the hotel. A channel was playing reruns of Castle and we were excited by the nostalgic novelty of cable. Every night we cuddled together in the crispy hotel bed and watched Castle or shows by archaeologists studying ancient Egypt. It was a blast, I loved doing something randomly different and giggling all the time. The hotel also had a pool table so we played together with that any chance we got. We didn’t get a lot of alone time on this trip so these intimate times were savored.

Connected to my ex-roommate when we found little moments to be alone. She said she read my post and had questions that were simple and held the meaning of a shared past. She was there for me when my dad died, she knew all of my ticks (triggers). I loved sharing with her. Later, there was a chance to be alone again and instead of following Cubu so he wouldn’t be unsupervised, I listened to the little voice and spent that time with her. She opened up about her life, her reality, and we shared how much we wished there was time/energy to devote to each other like we used to have. It felt fulfilling and sweet to share an emotional space with her again, something intimate just between the two of us. I hope once her kids go to school and she has more time for herself, she’ll make time for a friend again. 

So so so grateful to be a part of this family of theirs. They are so unconditionally warm and loving, freely giving out care to anyone. I hug them and feel what a kid feels when they hug a parent. I feel love everywhere. I don’t know what changed from me being their daughter’s roommate to being their symbolic daughter. But I vow to never take advantage of it. 

Friendship and contentment when talking to my ex-roommate’s father on the patio. Just the two of us, mixing silence with deep conversation, enjoying the golden light as it pours over the fields. I love this man, I worry about his health and I hope he can stay with us as long as he is happy to. 

Confused, grief, and wholeheartedness after a last minute decision to meet with Bela and the twins before we leave. I wasn’t going to, I didn’t want to out of fear and guilt, but the little voice told me to and I know better than to ignore it now. The teary hugs  alone were worth it. Hearing my cherished nickname that only they use the second they spotted me. The girl and I cuddled on the restaurant bench like we used to, Bela and I shared significant eye language the whole time, and I made sure to boost the male twin’s manly confidence. It felt right to be there with them, catching up and laughing. I’m more worried for the female than I am the male now, which is a distinct shift from how it’s been in the past. I’m relieved to see them doing alright, to be used to the new normal and finding new hobbies. They want to have Christmas together like we used to and I don’t know how to approach that. I would never complain about having this many foster families but it does make the holiday season tricky.