Finding my family: Why I love Facebook
18 Dec
By Dixie Laite
I just met my birth mother.
For half a century, I’ve longed to know who I am, where I came from, how my hair, my quirks, my me came to be.
Now, thanks to a company called kinsolving, I was able to learn my birth mother’s name, my birth father’s name and open a window onto the landscape of all the lives who came before me, and who, through a quirk of fate and 10 minutes of clumsy desire, have funneled down to little ol’ improbable me.
Some other time I’ll share my first awkward phone conversation with my new mother, the Wikipedia entries about this new father, my trip to visit my mother, and how—during her somewhat convoluted anecdotes spanning 70 years’ worth of secretarial gigs—I searched her face and gestures for any small glimmer of myself. I found my birth parents the day before Thanksgiving 2012, something I’d longed to find my entire life.
But thanks to Facebook, I also found something just as precious. Maybe more so.
Being adopted, for me at least, has always been a lonely proposition. Everyone in your family, everyone you know, is tied to others by blood, a shared history, by the shape of their noses and the bonds of familiar personalities. My appearance and especially my personality were completely discordant with the people I lived with. I always felt alien, out of sync and misunderstood.
Despite a host of best intentions, for me there was always the murmur of an undercurrent of otherness that I could never shake. This feeling, this solitary otherness, is by its very nature yours and yours alone. As a little girl I’d see films of astronauts floating in outer space, tethered to a chord in vast darkness with the underlying threat of their being cut loose and drifting aimlessly forever, the epitome of alone. I’d think to myself, “That’s me, that’s how I feel.”
When I finally got the news I’d found the woman who gave birth to me, that she was still alive at 88, I posted the news on Facebook. It seemed as worthy a nugget of information as a local shelter dog needing a home or the latest aggravating political tidbit.
This is my mother in the early 1940s.
What happened next blew me away. Dozens of people, some I knew, some I barely knew, many of whom I’d never met responded to my post. There was an outpouring of encouragement, support and kind words. What struck me most was that it was no longer my little solitary journey—now all of a sudden there were dozens, maybe hundreds of people, who’d opted to come along with a “thumbs up” and a little complimentary squib.
Something I’d assumed was of no interest to anyone but me was being shared and savored by kind people cheering me on. I’d been led to believe that my interest in my birthparents was somehow inappropriate, perhaps understandable but in poor taste. But here were all kinds of people sending me messages of strength, of support, of love. All of a sudden this sad little lonely mission didn’t feel so pathetic. The flood of Facebook friendliness made it feel both valid and valuable.
I can honestly say that Facebook completely transformed the experience. While naturally I’d wished I’d solved the mystery decades sooner, I can’t help but think that its delay was in the end a gift. While I’d finally uncovered my biological family, on Facebook I discovered a new kind of family—all kinds of people offering me their love, their support, their wisdom, their experience. Certainly it was overwhelming to finally find my past, but it was even more overwhelming to find this large, loving family right here.
I never thought I’d have a portrait of my mother at 2—and her bronzed baby shoes to boot!
Social media has its theorists, its gurus, marketers and detractors. But I’m here to give witness to the fact that in this relatively new technology I found a surprising sort of support and solace as priceless as the bronzed baby shoes given me last week, the day I met my mother.
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This is the lucky 13th episode of “15 Minutes of Dame,” a column to help you create, develop and promote the living crap out of your personal brand. Dixie Laite has been putting the “broad” in broadcasting for over 20 years, working in television, online, print and marketing for a variety of household name brands. By day, she works as Senior Editorial Director for TeenNick and also freelances as a writer, speaker and digital content strategist. She’s also working on a blog and book about The Lost Art of Being a Dame. Follow Dixie @DameStyle and on Pinterest, and email her at dixie@dixielaite.com. Oh, and post your questions and suggestions in Comments below.
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My mother was fostered, and for a long long time she didn’t know anyone from her family outside of her birthparents (the opposite of what seems to be your experience). She lost contact with foster brothers and sisters after their parents (her foster parents) died and she was forced to relocate. I have always felt I could never understand that feeling, but I do empathize with what I’d imagine it would feel like. And I applaud you for the courage it took, just as it took my mom, to contact the people who mean that much to you and who you are. I follow your facebook and your column, and I have to say, it seems like the karmic cycle is bringing good back to someone.
Such a touching and beautifully written story. I look forward to reading the next “episode.”
I love this so much, and I am so very very happy for you!!!!!!! I’m all weepy!!
I have found when I share something honest and sometimes hard for me, people overwhelmingly respond the most on the web— it’s as though the truth comes through and that resonates with people. I am so glad you shared a bit of yourself and have had such kind support and response. Through all the social media and its analyzers and masters, people are still people and sometimes we forget the humanity behind avatars.
Stella, VS, Angela and Jessica — thanks so much fr your sweet feedback. It’s always a little daunting to expose these kinds of things, so I really appreciate your response, as it makes me feel a lot less vulnerable. As the column says, people like you online have really made the experience all the more special and touching, and the kindness and support of acquaintances and virtual strangers really illuminates the goodness and lovingness out there. It’s a good reminder in this week following the Sandy Hook tragedy. In other words ladies — THANK YOU.
Dixie Doll-What terrific news and a whole new wedge of wonder to explore…..as if there isn’t enough wonder already. Thrilled to hear any details you’re willing to share.
Tallulah