After reading the poem below you may be surprised to know that I wrote it to myself. I have been working on issues of self worth lately and the poem was a gentle reminder to honor all of the qualities I think are positive about who I am. Knowing what I do of other adoptees I see that issues of self esteem are pretty common among us, so I know I am in good company.

It didn’t surprise me that most who read the poem drew a parallel to my first mother. After writing it I read over it and immediately saw the connection myself. As a matter of fact I can even see a connection between myself and my adoptive mom as well. The poem made me realize the extent to which I am connected to both of them.

The largest living organism on the planet is an aspen grove in Utah. The roots of an aspen grove are inner-twined and although each tree stands on it’s own, below the surface it is connected to every other tree in the grove. Such is the bond between mothers and daughters, it’s binding. Our sense of self is forged upon the roots of generations of mothers before us. The poem made me realize that I can’t cut myself completely from the organism of my mothers and expect to thrive. We grow and branch out on our own but no matter what the relationship between our mothers and ourselves, at the very least, we must acknowledge the connection and honor it. For without those roots we would simply cease to exist.



Filed under Adoptee Family, Healing Through Art

5 responses to “Connected

  1. suz

    beautiful last paragraph mia. so true. least i hope so!


    I love the photo too.

  3. and hopefully their is some connection to a father đŸ™‚

  4. A very nice poem Mia and I love nature scenes as well. They make me feel connected to all that is good in life. I have always seemed to be drawn to scenes of country roads or paths. Perhaps because life is like that.

    Reading your poem again, I could have applied it to a father as well by changing just a word or two. Seems as if a father-daughter relationship can be very special too….daughters tend to call their dad when things need fixing; and their mom to just chat about everything else. It is interesting to notice the difference in the interaction, but never doubt the connection.

  5. The connection between a daughter and her father is a completely different post, a completely different poem, maybe entitled “Daddy’s Little Girl”. This was the song my dad and I danced to at my wedding. Then there is the issue of the father I may never meet. That post is definately for another day.

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