Our Becoming Stories normally start with our ‘Birth Story’—the story that begins shortly before you are born to shortly after your birth. The story of when, where, and how you came into this world and welcomed by those who waited for your arrival. Birth stories are told by excited parents repeatedly, sometimes for the entirety of their lives. It is the tale you retell when you are sharing your Becoming Story.
I did not grow up knowing my birth story.
I knew the date I was born and that I was born in a hospital in Brooklyn New York. And I was told that immediately after my delivery, my mother handed me over to a home operated by Catholic nuns—the Sisters of Mercy. That is it.
What I do have is an Adoption Story, otherwise known as my “Homecoming Story”.
I spent my earlier years trying to write a birth story for myself, but they were all fiction. Mostly fantasies. There was one story I kept going back to. Whoever gave birth to me either did not want me, or could not care for me.
Being raised by parents whom I did not share genes with, I took a strong interest in the nurture verses nature question. Am I a product of my genes, DNA I inherited from two unknown people. Or was my Becoming unfolding from what I was experiencing in my environment? What I was observing and being taught in my home, church, and community?
There are many chapters in my Becoming Story. I count on many more chapters that are yet to be experienced. When I reflect on my journey so far, I can see how I have grown. I can recognize the lessons learned and those I may still need to work on. It is obvious to me.
I AM Always Becoming.
