Who is Dovel?
And what is she grappling with?
So Dovel is my birth name, made up by my biological mother.
She was a trend setter and didn’t know it, making up names back in the day!
Dove with an “L”
She told me, when I met her at age 29, (note that it’s during my first Saturn return) that she wanted me to have the same initials as my biological father. Daniel Milton Hall. So she named me Dovel Marie Hall.
I’m 60 now. (Second Saturn return in the record books.)
And yet I do grapple. What is in a name? I had so many, married a few times. The one given to me by my adoptive parents. I’m certain my soul has a name, but don’t know what that is… Fractal of the Most High.
Turns out that was NOT my biological father, despite the quantity vs one week fling. Danny stood her up on her 18th birthday, so hey, it’s Juarez and a handsome guy from the nearby military base with a southern drawl and a great sense of humor wants to take you out instead, well screw you, Danny.
And here I am. Unplanned, another feather in her shame hat.
At 16 Patty (Patricia is her birth name. That’s another story coming soon.) had a son. Gene was 20 months older than me. She had kept him, married his dad and was already divorced. At 18, here she was facing the future with a boyfriend who wouldn’t marry her, a toddler, and unsupportive parents.
Shame and Guilt and disempowerment were the themes. Lack of Agency, 1964. There wasn’t Welfare or Food Stamps or help in any way to offer any help, any bootstrap to pull herself up with… and parents who threatened to take her toddler away from her if she didn’t relinquish me for adoption.
I also have always grappled with my birthday. Christmas Eve sucks as a birthday. Never ever is there a party for YOU on your birthday. You’re an after thought. And it’s not like you’re sharing with Jesus.
As a kid this was much worse than now, of course. We can stop all birthdays, or maybe go in reverse? At about 8, I really started to be vocal about my dislike of Santa or poinsettias or anything Christmas being anywhere near my birthday cake or celebration. It was about the time I was lobbying against powdered milk as well.
Powdered milk leaves a powdery residue along the side of the glass. It’s not real. It takes like gross water. I was opinionated. Same at 8 as 80.
But pointing at the Christmas tree and saying I can pick out whatever I want today, for my birthday, and open the rest tomorrow, I was also not a fan. I would count. How was it fair my brother had the same number, yet he had a big birthday party in September with lots more gifts too? One of my core values - FAIR.
Over the years this all got better, but as a kid, the whole thing just felt unfair. I think that’s why I’m so big on people’s birthdays. If I love you, you’re hearing from me on your birthday and I want you to know how happy I am you’re here on earth. And I still celebrate those who have transitioned too.
So back to the lack of agency. It’s been a theme, since the beginning. For mom. For me. For all women. For patients.
The Doctor, who practiced at the Salvation Army Maternity home in beautiful El Paso, TX did not want to get called out on Christmas. So biomom was induced, on the 23rd actually. I was still being contrary, it took until the afternoon of Christmas Eve for me to show up. Hope that cut into his family dinner at least.
So, from the get-go everything about my life was not as it should be, going against nature and at the whims of someone who thinks they’re god.
It freaks me out to think about this, never held by bio mom. Whisked away, to spend my first Christmas in the maternity ward of Hotel Dieu in El Paso Texas. Note the picture above, built by nuns circa 1900.
And that is who Dovel started out as, and hence, even now, I grapple. - Dovel
#Adoptee #Agency #ForcedRelinquishment #WhoreGenes #GrapplingwithDovel #AdoptionPolicy #Abandonment