Can I call you Maya?

I have a deep desire to connect with my long lost birth sister. This desire does not have anything to do with the measure of contentedness with my {adoptive} family. These things are separate. I'd almost forgotten how bleak, frustrating and out of control those years I spent searching for my birth family felt. I'd been largely silent, choosing not to share my struggles and woes with the world - only now (through the documentary) have the main plot points and tempered emotions been shown. Closure depicts some of the thoughts I was willing to vocalize on camera, but certainly did not catch the moments of despair and the times I toyed with the idea of giving up forever. The unseen moments usually showed up in the form of anger and rage behind closed doors - Bryan often being caught up in trying to help settle me down didn't have the opportunity to grab the videocamera (thank goodness!).

The feelings of bleakness, injustice and unfairness are creeping back as years of searching, writing unanswered letters, sending photos to somewhere, probably landing in someone's file cabinet collecting dust, has led me nowhere. I've gained no ground, and know the same two facts that I've known all along - she was adopted to a family in Pennsylvania, and is about 20 months older than me. The fantasizing, catastrophizing, wondering and questioning continues, combined with the understanding that people have a right to their own privacy which seems to paralyze me at times. I don't know the ethics behind attempting to find someone who may or may not want to be found. I did it once (showing up unannounced at the front door of my birth moms house), and although it certainly wasn't the kindest of introductions, time healed some of the wounds...other wounds may never heal. The unplanned and intrusive meeting between my birthmother and I was not all for naught. Hard? Yes, but necessary. Ethical? That's debatable.

In the meantime, while I'm seemingly stuck not gaining any ground in my search for her, I think I'll give her a name. I'll call her Maya - in honor of Maya Angelou: someone whom I hold in high esteem but will likely never meet. Yes, Maya it is. "Maya," I don't know you, but I hold you in high regards as I know you've been through a lot. But, sadly, I doubt we'll ever meet.