Adoption and Acceptance

I can't help but notice that the ex, Bobby and the vanilla Republican from last year were all adopted.  John was in and out of foster homes and his mother kicked him out when he was 14.  Nate has adopted a child.

This seems statistically anomalous, and so I wonder if there is a pattern.

Clearly, the sense of not fitting in resonates deeply with me, which is odd because I had what, from the outside, should have seemed like a story-book home.  It wasn't, of course.  But it certainly had more stability and I had a lot of love from the first day I was born until I was 4 years old and became "the problem child."  And even at that point, I still had a stability and continuity.  I have an acquaintance who's mother died in childbirth and she was put up for adoption and adopted within a month, and she feels that loss incredibly strongly.  It is a defining even in her life.  I don't have any reason to feel that way.

It's just that I'm a freak who didn't fit in.

Clearly, something in me is attracted to, or draws in men that didn't stick with their origin family.  I don't know what that is, but I think it links to seeing the pain in a soul.

Nate wasn't adopted.  Nate didn't feel like a freak and didn't struggle to find a family or create an identity.  And Nate found it in his heart to adopt a baby girl.

He and I have been fooling around. Almost enough to make me wish I'd be in town for my birthday this weekend.  It would be nice to be spanked on my birthday.

But here's the thing:  I like Nate.  My body likes Nate.  I can totally enjoy fooling around with him.  And then I'm totally OK if he goes.  I'd totally go out with him again (and I assume he'll call--he texted me after he left last night to tell me what a wonderful time he had), but while I enjoy him when I'm with him, it isn't changing how I view life.  It isn't making me turned on all the time.  (After Bobby and I went out, I felt turned on all day long.)  It isn't making me grin.  I enjoy him when I'm with him.  But I'm not looking forward to the prospect of seeing him.

I hope that will come. I do think if we have sex, I'll begin to like him more. Intellectually, it would be lovely to be with someone who wanted to make a home for others, rather than search for the home he had lost.