I think I've figured it out.

My Mom, that is to say, the woman who raised me, is a good person. She worked very hard as a single parent to raise my sister and I. She hardly ever took time for herself. She always has the best of intentions.

In my 20th year, I made a big break from my family. I moved in with my boyfriend of two years, I got my own car insurance, and I found my biological mother. Now, before I began my hunt for Bio-Mom, I sat my Mom down, and tried to gently tell her that I wanted to find the person who brought me into this world. It was a difficult conversation to have with Mom, but I'm glad I did it. She told me she understood, and spilled the beans on all she knew about Bio-Mom. It wasn't a lot, and Mom wished me luck. She also pointed out that this person might not want me in her life. I told her I realized that, but I wasn't going to think about it. I merely wanted to get some answers, and if Bio-Mom didn't want me in her life after that, I would do my best to accept it.

Two weeks later I found Bio-Mom. My Mom was a little freaked, but put together an envelope of pictures from my growing up years for Bio-Mom. She did this and brought it over to me when I'd only been able to give her a couple of hours notice.

After I'd met with Bio-Mom, and my Mom realized that Bio-Mom and I would be starting a relationship, Mom became rather upset. She may have thought that I would never find Bio-Mom. Looking back, I realize that I didn't pick "the best time" in my relationship with Mom to go in search of my roots, but I didn't think of that then. Of course, Mom thought she was loosing me, and fast.

Well… she was. I was becoming my own person, taking control of my own life. I couldn't wait to move out of the apartment I shared with my Mom and sister. My relationship with my Mom before I left was shaky and getting steadily worse with each passing week. The tighter she held on, the more I struggled to break free. I finally did.

As time went on, I realized that my family is a typical one in its dysfunctionalities. All families are goofy, and mine seemed increasingly more so, the further away I got from them. I began to realize that the way they did things wasn't "the norm" for every family. Things could be different, they didn't have to be the way they were in my family. I could choose a different path suddenly.

A few months passed and I met with Bio-Mom's family. The more time I spent with them, the more I finally felt accepted, and more importantly, understood. These people "get" me. They understand the way I think and my sense of humor. I could be myself around them and they didn't judge me or make fun of me. I was also spending more time with my future Mother-In-Law. As it turns out, you don't have to be biologically related to be understood by others. See… other people like me and don't criticize me or make fun of me. What a liberating feeling!

I've recently been doing some thinking about my relationship with Mom. I know I carry some anger around about my Mom, and I think I've figured out why. It is a simple answer, albeit, possibly not a logical one. It definitely won't be a popular one with some of my family members, but here goes… ready? My Mom is not Bio-Mom. That's what makes me angry. Yes, there is a measure of guilt behind that realization.

I didn't have to grow up without a father figure?
I didn't have to grow up with the specter of "not enough money" looming over me?
I didn't have to grow up with people who expected me to think and act a certain way?
I didn't have to grow up with these people who seemed to judge and criticize everyone who was "different"?
I didn't have to grow up the way I did?

Well, of course, the answer is "Yes, I did have to grow up that way." I only wish I knew the reasons why.

It is very difficult for me to not compare my Moms. None of the Moms are perfect. No families are perfect, we all have faults.

I look to other moms for advice on most things before I ask my Mom. I tell others more secrets than I'd ever share with my Mom. I don't want to hear "See… now you know what I went through when…" I just want someone to say they understand. I want to talk to people that don't tell me all about their medical problems, unless I ask. I don't want to think that anything I say will be spread across the family grapevine in record time. I don't want to be around people that talk about someone as soon as they've walked out the door. I don't want to be around people that don't respect me and my family.

How can I repeatedly accept the person she is and learn to communicate with her in a more open and honest way? How do I appreciate her good points, without stacking up all the bad in front of it? How do I not pass this "emotional baggage" on to The Little Clown?

How can I forgive my Mom for being the person she is? How can I forgive myself for what I feel?

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