There's a reason why being donor conceived matters practically in my journey.
Finding out about NPD has opened many healing pathways for me. I have felt angry and relieved and happy and alive since I found out.
But only since I found out I was donor conceived have I allowed myself to feel sad. And to grieve. Because I know I've always somehow known that I couldn't really expect my father to love me. I've always known that. I've always known at some level that he owed me nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to grieve the father he couldn't be because of his personality disorder. All I could feel was the sheer relief of not having to think of him as the perfect father any longer.
But there was still a black hole I was unable to face because I didn't know it was there.
When I allowed myself to believe there was a father out there I'll probably never know, I started grieving. And feeling sad at times.
And being more alive than ever.
And finally really, truly, totally, madly loving my children.
It's the strangest thing. It just happened. It's like something snapped inside me. Like something burst inside me, releasing liquid joy, allowing me to really love my kids.
A voice inside me said: "They're mine. They're deliciously, wonderfully, tangibly mine. They smell mine and taste mine when I kiss them. There's a bodily joy in the fact that they're mine and no one can take that away from me."
This changed everything. Everything. I wasn't a bad mom before. I did stuff right. I felt a tender love for them before.
But the difference is indescribable. I love them like a mother loves her children. Like an animal loves her cubs. This is real and physical and intense.
There was a block there. And the block was a little voice inside my head saying "Parents can't really love children," which I apparently learned from my childhood. This script didn't fully go away once I reinterpreted it as "NARCISSISTIC parents can't really love children." Part of the script always included also "NARCISSISTIC parents can't really love OTHER FATHERS' children." That was the full script I had learned. And only when it all came out was I capable of unlearning it. Because my children are mine.
Does that make any sense at all? I know it sounds crazy. But it's true.
I've never felt more alive or more joyful. I'm actually on good terms with my social father at the moment and pray for him. My heart aches for my real father, whom I'll never meet. And I'm the happiest I've ever been.