Decision to be Brave

I spoke with my friends who were with me all the way, with the decision to try to adopt all on my own. Their support was - and continues to be - incredible and a real gift to me. They encouraged me to decide for myself. To be brave. My choice. My life. My time. My chance at happiness and to see a dream fulfilled.
I spoke to the Few and had some answers and some level of support. I spoke bluntly and as politely as I could, realising that this was an emotional roller coaster ride for us all. It didn't go well. I sobbed, at times, uncontrollably. At other times, I was more level headed and composed. I presented my heart on a plate. Hadn't they realised that this was what I always wanted? Didn't they think I could parent? Did they really think that Adoption was wrong? After all, they well knew the pain of my own divorce at the time we had planned to have children all those years ago and the heartbreak and disappointment the following years had brought with me not meeting the right man whilst everyone else gets on with their lives and have their children. After all, I had played with their children, they knew my career path - with all it's twists and turns, working with children for all these years. Did they not think I was good with children? Did they really have such negative feelings towards adoption? After all, I was adopted. Did they feel that about me too?
I was trying to find some of the answers to their reasons for being so anti me going down the path to adopt. Ironically, one who I was closest to, had encouraged me to push the door to considering fostering and to contact the local Authority for Adoption too. When my application was deferred they had still encouraged me to push the door with the Adoption Agencies. Maybe they thought the door would just close. maybe they didn't think I would push the door. I couldn't be responsible for their emotions or their responses and neither could I expect or guarantee their support. I wasn't prepared for a further bombardment of emotions, statements, stereotype responses and statements. Responses and statements from the very close to me, who knew me well, who were happily married, who were already parents. And who knew my story too. My story of longing to be a Mum, the heartbreak of divorce, the hopes I had for meeting the right man, having my own children.... didn't they realise? Didn't they understand?
Truth is, I don't think they did understand my thoughts or hopes or desires completely. I don't think they did think I should or could adopt. I don't think they realised what was going on themselves in their own emotions. The day spent with them to resolve the conflict hadn't gone well. I was facing this alone. Or so I thought. With or without their blessing. Or so it seemed.
A week before the Adoption Preparation group, they said they would support me. At least for this stage of the process.
I had no idea what that really meant.
I didn't feel like I had their support.
Not really.
Not at all.
How long this support would last and when it would end I had no idea.
I am not sure if I felt pleased or grateful for the support I had from them. But it was all I had. I couldn't make this support be more or make their opinioons or thoughts or beliefs or attitudes change. I also knew that I couldn't let the lack of support influence my decision.
I felt less angry, more hurt and heartbroken.
The decision.
This was about me.
Single but complete.
Standing on my own two feet.
The brave decision made.
The decision to be brave.
On my own.
Not out of spite or sheer bloodymindedness. A decision to be brave out of realising I am not a half person. I am me. Complete. unique. Whole. Just me. This is it. My chance. My time. My turn. Me.
Brave.
Maybe it had taken me all these years since my divorce to feel this inner strength of being brave on my own. My inner brave self. My inner strength.My inner confidence, to be me. Myself in entirety. Entirely me. Not brave on my own because I happen to be or have to be on my own - you know the lost limb, lost the other half chopped off. Somehow this was a different brave. Completeness, finally restored.
My decision to be brave helped me walk into the Adoption Preparation Group.