- A Question of Trust
- Intro: The Birth of a Blog
- You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance: Part I
- Bad Romance, Part II: The Couch
- Bastard Package #1
- Hallelujah
- Born This Way
- Baby Girl X
- Another Victim of Love
- True Life
- The Girls Who Went Away
- Love and Other Drugs
- 11 Things Adoptees Love to Hear
- Uh, Never Mind
- Adoptee Kid Lit
- Bastard Princess and the Search for the Holy Grail
- MYOFB
- Awkwardness
- Baby Steps
- Faith, Hope, and Catholic Charities
- Special Delivery
- Green-eyed Monster
- !@#$
- Pandora
- Fantasyland
- Adoptees You May Have Heard Of
- Big MAC Attack
- Material Girl
- VISA and Mastercard Accepted
- Don't Hold Your Breath
- Our Love is Like a Constipated Cat
- A Question of Trust
- Adoption, Hollywood Style
- All in the Family
Green-eyed Monster
HOLY SHIT—my eyes really are greenish brown! Or hazel green. Today, in the bright midmorning light of our master bathroom, I compared them with Alex’s eyes, which are most definitely a semisweet-chocolate brown. I feel like a knob for getting so giddy about something so minor, but…I wasn’t imagining it! My custom-blend eyes make me feel so special and beautiful. To celebrate them, I’ve even started looking for eyeshadow palettes to flatter green or hazel eyes. I’M IN LOVE! WITH MYSELF!
I’ve been apologizing to Jeremy a lot in for the past couple of days for my weird new eyecolor obsession. He admits that it’s a bit odd but totally understands it. I saw my primary-care physician today to update her on my antidepressant withdrawal and asked her what color my eyes were. From 6 feet away, she could tell that they were “greenish.” How could I have possibly missed something so basic and OBVIOUS about myself—something I saw every single day in the mirror--for 40 years?! Here comes a metaphor—maybe my newfound awareness of my actual eyecolor parallels my deepening connection with the real me, or my authentic self. For my entire life, I’ve been operating under false assumptions that I was something or someone that someone else told me to be—a brown-eyed girl, for one. Can I really blame them? Even I never looked closely enough at myself to challenge them. So I believed them, even though my heart knew better. What else have I been missing all these years? Last night, what I believe is the “real” meaning of my delight in my newfound eyecolor dawned on me—my greenish eyes are actually the only tangible confirmed link I have to my mother and thus my origins. The upshot? I’m starting to love myself and my little peculiarities a little more.
I’ve been apologizing to Jeremy a lot in for the past couple of days for my weird new eyecolor obsession. He admits that it’s a bit odd but totally understands it. I saw my primary-care physician today to update her on my antidepressant withdrawal and asked her what color my eyes were. From 6 feet away, she could tell that they were “greenish.” How could I have possibly missed something so basic and OBVIOUS about myself—something I saw every single day in the mirror--for 40 years?! Here comes a metaphor—maybe my newfound awareness of my actual eyecolor parallels my deepening connection with the real me, or my authentic self. For my entire life, I’ve been operating under false assumptions that I was something or someone that someone else told me to be—a brown-eyed girl, for one. Can I really blame them? Even I never looked closely enough at myself to challenge them. So I believed them, even though my heart knew better. What else have I been missing all these years? Last night, what I believe is the “real” meaning of my delight in my newfound eyecolor dawned on me—my greenish eyes are actually the only tangible confirmed link I have to my mother and thus my origins. The upshot? I’m starting to love myself and my little peculiarities a little more.