I need to clear my head...so I'll tell you right now this can end up being a long note (and probably repetitive at times). And most likely all over the place because well that's just how I think.
Writing keeps me sane. But if this note hurts someone out there, let me know, I can take it down.
I've pretty much told most of my close family (aside from my grandmother who I'd rather tell in person when she comes to Winnipeg in a few days) by now, so I guess it's fair to share this with whoever chooses to read this.
I recently met my biological father for the very first time in my life.
And it's all thanks to facebook.
It's been something I've thought about for almost 20 years of my life. I'm 25 now.
About a month ago, I worked up the courage (thanks to a sister I recently discovered I had) to message him. He seemed a little shocked to hear from me actually, but took it in strides. We eventually met face to face.
This wasn't the first time. I've seen him three times before.
I actually bumped into him a few years ago. Literally. Something you would only see in a movie. But those of you who know me, get it. Oddly, these types of things happen regularly...just my luck I find myself saying often.
Anyway, he was getting coffee, he had a tray full of coffee from Timmy's. It was at the corner of Portage and Carlton. I was busy reading last minute notes cause I was going to pitch a story. My very first story to be exact. This is back when I first started at aptn as an intern.
So basically were both busy doing our own thing and just like that, bumped shoulders (I asked him about this but he doesn't remember). He did look pre-occupied and in a hurry.
But at the time I swear he knew my face. How could he not. I look like my mother (and like him).
Anyway. I just cowardly apologized for getting in the way. Watched him walk away (probably with a dropped jaw.lol)... and eventually went to work where I pitched my story, producers bit. And I filed my very first story! Which, I'm bringing up just to show how the meeting eventually was pushed off into memory territory of my brain.
I'm not your average person. I'm normally straight forward, hardly shy, and definitely not a coward. But when it came to my biological father, the topic always made me squirmy. Cowardly. Restless. Because to be honest, I let fear get in the way.
I feared the worst. That he would deny me. But it went beyond that.
What if he had a family of his own. Would they accept me? Would I get in the way? Would I ruin a family?
Looking back now... I believe I held off for so long as I did, because well...I wasn't always this strong. Well, it's not even about being strong, it's more about being understanding. That's the word.
Looking back, I can see the way I was raised contributed to who I am today. And I am so grateful for having so many positive influences in my life.
But back then...I couldn't always see it that way. I've dealt with all of what I'm about to say already. But somehow it's all resurfaced. And I think it has to do with the fact that I want to have an honest relationship with the man, and he was curious to know my life story....so this is what triggered it.
Basically, I was a pass around kid. My mother kept me for the first few months. Followed by my grandmother... who really only watched me sometimes. The other times it was my aunties. Mainly Karla.
From there it was for the majority my great-grandmother. She is the foundation of my life. She's since passed on but like I've said in many other posts...she is my world. my inspiration. my best friend. my fighting partner. my everything. As the years went on we were able to share so much with one another (and I even got a chance to tell her the majority of my feelings...aside from when it came to my biological father)...anyway I'm sidetracking.
So I would go from great-grandmother, to mother, to grandmother, to aunt, to motheragain , to great uncles, and back again to whoever at the time could handle me. Or until I could handle much of them.
At a really young age, I learned how to become a terrible brat. I was aware of my setting at a young age. It didn't help that there were lots of unspoken words as to how I became without a fixed home.
At one point my great-grandmother couldn't handle me anymore. I was still a child. Maybe 7, 8, or 9. No one else was around. She couldn't handle me. She took me to my father's parents home. She told them I was their problem from now on.
I can't remember the exact number of days (I think it may have been two?) but I stayed there. But it did do a number on me. For one thing, to hear her say to others that no one wanted me...two, these people were strangers. And three, to hear them talk about whether or not I was even their son's kid was pretty damaging.
She eventually came back for me. Tried to make up for it, and I took advantage of that. For years to come. Cause, she didn't want me to let others know she did such a cruel thing.
The way my family works. When you piss off a Wilson, a Wilson gets revenge. At least that's how it used to be. We were a hurtful bunch. We retaliated. And using guilt was our best friend.
I'm not a big fan of dumping the responsibility on someone or something, but I know this is part of the whole residential school era stuff. At least now I do.
And I'm not making any excuses for anyone, including myself... But this system allowed all sorts of abuses to take place within the family. Physical, Emotional, Sexual, Spiritual abuse...you name it. I saw it.
Like I said...no excuses. But becoming aware of where this nasty cycle surfaced from... made it a lot easier to forgive.
Anyway, at a young age. I became a master at the Wilson system. I knew how to get my way. I knew who to run to and when. I learned how to manipulate everyone around me.
And before anyone could catch on... I would use guilt. I said the most hurtful things imaginable. I always wanted someone to hurt more than I did. And I didn't like other kids ( I loved them cause they were family...but couldn't handle sharing).
Like I said...Now at 25, I've dealt with all this. I've forgiven myself and others for the vicious cycle of my family's past.
It's natural though. I get that. I chose to be honest. It's something I value these days.
I told him that I did always think about contacting him. I told him that I looked him up in the phone book. I told him I found out he was raising two kids. I can go on and on.
But as much as I was scared to tell him I realize now, that I'm happy with the way things turned out.
Yes, I missed out, and he missed out on 25 years. But we can't change that.
And as much as I used to be a hurtful person.... I am grateful my biological father didn't live in The Pas the majority of my life.
I found out (within the last few weeks) that he lived there for 2 years (when I started to become a teenager) ...but I'm very grateful I didn't know, cause this was when I was in my prime hurtful years.
I realize, if I had known him then...we both would've been resentful to one another today.
But more importantly... I would've did a lot of damage to my siblings.
Don't get me wrong. I am disappointed in myself.
I am disappointed in the unspoken words. I am disappointed in my mother not fighting harder for me. I am disappointed in my grandmother, and great-grandmother for butting in.
I am disappointed in my father for not trying harder and letting the words of others get to him. And most importantly, I am disappointed because I missed out on growing up with my three siblings on my father's side. But I can't change it. Any of it.
And now, the key lies in the future. What's to come.
I am honored that my father admitted to my face that he wasn't always a good person. That he was selfish when he was younger. I am honored that he gave me a glimpse into his family life as well.
I was especially glad to find out he fought hard to keep his two youngest kids...it made me feel good knowing that even though he wasn't there for me, he got over his selfishness in time for them, when they needed him the most. And to me...that's what counts today.
I see how hard he works for his family. How hard he tries.
And when he wanted to know about me I told him some of the bad, to get that understanding. But I chose to focus more on the positive side of things.
Aside from all the manipulation... I did have positive influence. A really great one at that. Obviously. I'm 25, I have my own place, pay my own bills, I'm educated. I've experienced love. And I have a wonderful career.
And it's all thanks to my upbringing. My happy times out weigh my hard times.
I did have four loving moms (mother, aunt, grandma, and great grandma)...plus other great female influences.
I got to travel all over North America. Do things I wanted to do. Live (even if it was only for a few months) in many different places.
But more importantly... I have had every step of the way, the best siblings anyone can ask for. Two biological sisters who are wise beyond their years, have seen me at my worst and still love me. A brother who's seen harder days than I have. And two cousins, who are just like a brother and sister...whom I also had my fair share in playing a part in their upbringing.
And I did/still have a dad. A great one at that. He accepted me as his own. As did his entire family. This I am forever grateful for. And he will always be my dad.
I also had another father figure as a child. Who was mainly good to me. He may not have been to others in my family but was a positive experience for me.
I also had many uncles, and great uncles...who were like father figures.
And later, a grandpa who was just like another father (who also brought along more family to enjoy and love).
This probably hurt my biological father to hear it. And I can honestly say I'm not doing it on purpose. Not like I used to do things. We decided early on to both be adults as we take our relationship as daughter/father further.
Now...As each new day comes I look forward to every new thing I learn about my newly discovered family. Even though I'm just meeting the man and my three siblings...I can honestly say I love them.
It's a little strange to think about all the similarities I have with them... looks, actions, understanding... but it's rewarding at the same time. To think, even with so much time apart, we're connected. And that I value and love so much.
I'm ready for the sibling relationship and/or father and daughter one to get stronger and deeper.
But if it doesn't, I'm perfectly okay with that too.
Because, I've conquered one of my greatest fears. Already I learned so much about life...and the curves it has for us. And this is yet another step in my journey to become a balanced healthy person.
I know I don't have any more what ifs left... at least when it comes to family. And that's a pretty good feeling. And that I am truly thankful for.
I know I'm blessed.
Stye+crew
13 years ago
