A Connection With Mom

From an adoptee – this is exactly how I’ve felt my whole life. Then, when I did get pregnant, this is what it felt like in the opposite way with my son inside me. He’s the first person I’ve ever met related to me and it’s such an awesome feeling. Biology matters!

A trans-racial adoptee affirms – this speaks so much. We are tied to our birth mother, even when we are given up at birth.

Another adoptee writes – It definitely resonates with me. Whether in reunion or not, we are always tied to our mothers.

A mother who relinquished due to coercion writes – Very much connected and bonded to my kiddo before he was born. Which is why the coercion comes into play. They want to sever that connection as long and as much as possible by messing with your brain so you sign those papers.

One adoptee shared the image above, saying – this highlights the depth of loss from the child’s perspective. If you can’t get them to care about the mother, maybe they’ll at least care about the impact separation has on the child.

One adoptee shared – My mom quoted a poem she read in an Ann Landers Column “I didn’t grow you under my heart but in it”. Blogger’s note – In trying to check this out, I found it was actually by LINK>Fleur Conkling Heyliger and relates to having adopted a child. The “mom” was likely her adoptive mother, not her birth mother. I suppose either Ann Landers was a more well-known name or that she actually did share this in a column but I couldn’t prove that. Another adoptee pushed back – except we grew in our Mother’s womb, just like everyone else. That poem is for an adoptive parents benefit.

Another adoptee regarding the drawing at the top of this blog wrote – The deep, lasting connection to our mothers wordlessly and clearly expressed. I like it a lot.

A mother of loss shares – This is why, when I first talked to my son at 30 years old, he said talking to me was so easy, it’s like he had known me forever. It’s a string that should never be broken.

One person shared her first reaction to the drawing at the top of this blog – when I first saw this, I immediately thought it was pro life propaganda. An adoptee admitted – I did too, but only for a flash – the heartbeat thing. Then my adoptee kicked in and I saw something else.

Another adoptee goes full in with a long comment – I think that no matter what – a child is always connected to their mother. They grew inside them, they are the one that gave them life. Their mother felt them grow and move inside their body and that connection is unmatched to any other sort of connection.

The drawing was shared because it relates to a specific situation and so, she elaborates on that – A minor being forced or pressured to give their child up for adoption would be such a devastating loss, especially if this is how the mom feels about her baby. The worst loss anyone can feel is the loss of a child and then, next the loss of a parent. Imagine trying to grieve that loss but knowing they are still alive.

You know you are still connected by that red string of fate but it was cut by adults who felt like they knew more or better than you did. I couldn’t imagine that feeling of emptiness or loneliness. I would anticipate the mother going into an emotional spiral if that was to happen.

I’m not sure exactly the situation with this young mom but Child Protective Services can and will support this young mom with this child. She DOES NOT need to give her child up for adoption. She needs a voice and an advocate to support her, to help her have a voice and be heard in a system that won’t hear her wants. She needs one person. One strong person to support her and advocate for her and support her in this journey and let her know that she can keep her baby with the help of a village. It won’t be easy, it’s going to be extremely hard. But it’s clear she wants to parent. She sees a future with her child and she should be given an opportunity to do that.

Alone With No One There

A woman writes – Sitting in some unpleasant, sad, gross feelings lately. Both my mothers, biological and a non-bio/fictive kinship guardian, are deceased. Neither family is…there. I have one elderly family member from my biological mom’s side that I am -not- blood related to, due to my biological mom being adopted herself. The fictive kin family cut contact with me immediately after that second mom passed away (no explanation, nothing). I feel like I am drifting in a void, and untethered. I feel isolated from my peers and I can’t relate. Christmases, birthdays, going through hardships, even celebrating the big, joyous things, the milestones! It all feels quite lonely. And I don’t have it in me to find more eloquent words to describe how sad this makes me feel, but I can only hope someone out here gets it and we can sit in this together. Thanks for reading me.

One shared her own approach – I formed a family with my pets & then also with my best friend.

One person notes – It’s hard being alone with no connections.

Someone says – I wish I could hug you right now and be there for all your good moments to celebrate and moments like this, so you don’t feel alone.

An adoptee shares – I was there too. I’ve taken the last 24 years and built a new family for myself full of non-blood people who care deeply about me and I about them.

From another adoptee – orphaned at 10, I very much relate & sit in it every day, and so I am with you now in these feelings.

A Blessing and/or Trauma

This comment, had me looking for an image – Saw a post where a lady has an unplanned pregnancy 2 months into dating. One comment said “adoption is an option”. This woman said – Yeah and a boatload of trauma in the child’s life.

When I found this image, I followed the LINK>Blessing Invalidates Trauma. She writes – When your biggest blessing invalidates my greatest trauma it sets me up for a lifetime of pain, suffering and isolation. It facilitates a lifetime of suicidal ideation, because the pain is just too great to process. It makes me feel more isolated and alone than non-adopted individuals can ever imagine. It makes me wish I was aborted and feeling like I want to die for most of my life, because my pain is greater than my desire to want to live. It drives me to attempt to take my life as a teenager, because you fail to admit I have lost anything. It drives me to a place of addiction, because at the end of every day the only way to manage every day life is to numb the pain. When you use bible scriptures to defend your blessing, it makes me question the bible and the God you are speaking of. When your biggest blessing outshines my reality, it makes me feel unimportant and insignificant. When you refer to me as a blessing, it hurts because you are invalidating my adoptee and relinquishee reality.

She goes on to share a common adoptive parent response to a child’s question – Mommy, did I come out of your tummy? That adoptive mother’s answer goes like this – She loved you so much she gave you to me to raise, and I will always love her and be thankful for her decision.

She goes on to say – I was approximately five years old when this conversation took place, and it’s clear to me that my life was never the same. Every day, I was haunted every hour and every minute wondering, wishing, and dreaming about finding HER.

She also notes – No matter what questions I had or what mental torment I experienced from this moment forward, my adoptive mom’s joy and happiness trumped everything. My feelings didn’t matter when I was her biggest blessing in life, and her joy of being a mother trumped my feelings of sadness every damn day.

She suggests – Today is a new day and a new year. It’s 2020, and when you know better, you do better. More importantly – READ her entire essay !!

Unofficially Adopted ?

Many people have discovered that whether biological and genetic or adoptive, there are people who feel closer at heart and in mind with some other people, who are not actually either of those mentioned above. One hears about “chosen” family – not being chosen by hopeful adoptive parents – but choosing to feel like “family” with certain friends, even ones we have never met. I had never heard of being “unofficially adopted” before today but it does appear to be a situation that someone might experience, but NOT adoptees.

Here’s the story about it, that I read today (and this person is NOT an adoptee) – Did anyone else grow up with a highly dysfunctional family but have a friend’s family say you are one of their own and they were “unofficially adopting you”? I had 1 friend whose family “unofficially adopted me” and within 2 years turned against me. Then another friend whose family “unofficially adopted me” for over 10 years before turning against me harshly over something stupid. They built me up so much, only to tear me down worse in the end. I thought they were my family. I couldn’t imagine how it would actually end between me and both friends and their families.

Now I fully accept that my only family are my two kids. I completely cut contact with all of my blood relatives. I love my kids and I love loving them. But I wish I had family to love me the way I love my kids. I’ve had a lot of anger over what my blood relatives put me through and the people who said they were unofficially adopting me. Rage even. The constant reminders on a daily basis from the mistreatment I received by my blood relatives that left me with many terrible internal messages. And the two betrayals from “unofficially adopted family” leaving me completely devastated. It’s taken a lot to not think of revenge daily. I wish the worst for all of them. I’m otherwise a very understanding person. But they will never have my understanding. Has anyone else gone through this or feel this way?

Oh, and my grandma, who was my only blood relative that was truly there for me growing up. I don’t think I should hate her but I started hating her when after 5 years into adulthood I realized she made no effort to be in my life pretty much the moment I became an adult. Somehow I hate her the most out of all of them.

blogger’s note – this does break my heart and I feel so much compassion for this damaged soul.

An adoptee responded – I grew up with a highly dysfunctional adoptive family. I’ve also had to question what “family” means since birth. I’ve never been “unofficially adopted”, even though others have tried to claim the would/did. Nope. I don’t want anything to do with adoption and that includes fictional ones. My family is made up of biological relatives and those I’ve chosen to become legally family with. That’s it. There are no exceptions. Close and long friends aren’t “family”. They’re close longtime friends. This is important enough on its own and we don’t need to pretend it’s something else. Others have already tried to blur these lines for me. I refused to comply with that. Family isn’t replaceable or interchangeable.

Another person with a similar role in the group was compassionate – I think what might help you is to look at rage=hurt. It sounds to me like you’ve not processed your feelings. Discussing this in therapy would likely be helpful. I hear you. You’ve had so many people let you down and walk away, and because you love your kids, you can’t imagine how your family could’ve not loved you with that all encompassing love. And you feel the lack of love. That sounds very lonely and deeply hurtful. When you’re in rage, you’ll push away people who are open to getting close, and you may be less patient or kind than you want to be with your own children as a result. I strongly suggest getting into therapy to process those feelings. I get that – Rage is safer than hurt, but you need to be able to move through hurt, in order to move onto the next stage.

Compassion also from an adoptive mother – From your post I am hearing that you feel alone, you feel angry towards your biological family, you feel angry towards old friends, and you are currently feeling the most angry toward the people that you were closest to. I am also hearing some red flags like “rage” and wishing harm on people from your past. Is this all correct? I am absolutely NOT saying that there is anything “wrong with you.” I am saying that sometimes we get lost in ourselves and forget how to find our support network, and it is helpful to be reminded HOW to know, if we need them, and HOW to find them, if we do. It sounds like you may be calling out for help here. Are you?

Because many in this group actually are adoptees, who are privileged voices – there was more than a little bit of criticism – “Did you really just hijack an Adoptee/FFY PV space, as a mother who surrendered a child to adoption no less, to talk/complain/center your experience about friend’s families saying they were going to ‘unofficially adopt’ you?” And this one – “Being ‘unofficially adopted’ is nothing like real adoption girl. I can’t believe you brought this bs to this group. Seek therapy. That’s the only advice you’re gonna get. For you to even think this is appropriate is beyond me.” Then this, “I’m very confused. Are you not actually adopted…. It is wildly inappropriate to compare the two. Honestly, how dare you. That is just a GLIMPSE of what we actually feel. Reality check for you is – this isn’t the platform for you to talk about this in – and in all sincerity I hope you get help to heal from the trauma of a dysfunctional family…. But again in my flabbergasted voice it isn’t at all the same….”

Also a note of caution from someone who experienced foster care – Some of my friend’s parents were really abusive and would often offer me security and a sense of belonging as a control tactic to be honest. They’re the only ones who “considered” adopting me.

blogger’s note – Maybe the take away is to take such complicated feelings to the appropriate place to deal with them.

Everybody Hurts

An adoption community friend mentioned that this was a song that always made her cry. I had not heard it before. I’m pretty certain a song by REM was part of my wedding back in 1988 (not this song, of course). I suspect many of the people who read this blog do feel sad, cry, have deep soul hurt, at least sometimes. So I’m making this my Saturday morning blog, just because.

We just spent 3 days without full power (though we do have a gas powered generator, it is NOT enough to power our furnace – we used a space heater and sleeping bags at night). The noise and sustained cold (though the lowest household temperature was 63, the cold seeped into everything in the house) shattered my nerves and happily took 3 lbs off me due to shivering. There was a moment on Thursday when everything was just so wrong but I had to go on. I know we were fortunate to have that much normalcy, yet – it was anything but normal. Our power was restored at 11:35am on Friday. I have even more compassion and empathy for the people of Ukraine today who do not even have what we had and have terror piled on top of the suffering, never knowing when the next missile will strike where they are.

~ lyrics

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along

When your day is night alone (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on

‘Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts

Don’t throw your hand, oh no
Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone
No, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life
The days and nights are long
When you think you’ve had too much
Of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody cries
Everybody hurts, sometimes

And everybody hurts sometimes
So hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on

Everybody hurts

Pluses and Minuses

A Former Foster Care Youth, then Adoptee writing her thoughts… contemplates – Am I the only one that struggles with going back and forth with being – glad my parents gave me up and then, at the same time sad that my extended family didn’t keep me ? I can’t imagine the person I would be, if I was raised by my biological parents… if I were to guess, I probably wouldn’t have finished high school and would be living off welfare. But being given up also caused additional trauma including feeling unworthy, unloved and abandoned. I was sexually abused in the first foster family I was placed with. Then, the second family had so many foster kids, I never got attention. The family that adopted me did so because their biological daughter passed away at 20 years old, so they took me in. I always felt like I had to be who she was… Then again, my adoptive mother did teach me to be a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need to depend on anyone including the government, financially. So I think, there are pluses and minuses in being given up and adopted. However, I also think, if my biological mother had received the help she needed, mentally and financially, maybe I would not have had to go through any of my imagined or my real outcomes.

I am not an adoptee myself but I have thought about such things. Both of my original grandmothers could have raised my parents had they had the proper support and assistance. I have no doubt about that. My mom may have grown up in more poverty because her adoptive parents were financially very well off. This did allow some benefits and privileges for my mom and for me and my sisters. I’m less certain about how my dad may have turned out.

His original mother was unwed and had an affair with a married man. I doubt he ever knew he had a son as his extended family here in the United States and still living in Denmark did not know he existed. DNA proved my relationship to them. My paternal grandmother did go on to have other children but also a rather difficult life as I have been told. No doubt he would have been loved. He was very important to his adoptive mother as well who had a huge influence on the outcome of my own life. She was a strong woman in her own ways.

I grew up with good adoptive grandparents, aunts and cousins and I am grateful for all of them. Learning about my original family has had a bittersweet effect on me. It has left me more lonely in odd ways – not part of the adoptive or the genetic families – in reality. More alone than I was before I knew . . .

Never The Priority

From an Adoptee:

Do other adoptees feel as though they have never been a priority ? I struggle to explain it. Often it feels like I am just in the background of the lives of the people I love. Sometimes it feels like I am a tool they use to make their lives better. It rarely feels like people choose to be in my life for me. I can’t be the only one.

And she is NOT.

From another adoptee – I feel like a ghost, an echo, invisible. It’s as if I am tolerated, even enjoyed sometimes, but not sought out or after. It is hard to explain.

And another – My whole life is basically me being used in one way or another. Even my closest friends mostly only call me when there’s a problem for me to solve. I guess that’s what I get for learning how to be the problem solver, because I learned early that I have only myself to rely on, while others have loving family to support them.

Yet another – Totally get that feeling. I’m in my 30s and still struggling. Except the way I’ve always felt with my family, my in laws, and definitely my biological family is the black sheep of every family. I really don’t feel like I belong anywhere.

And this – Only after I found out I was adopted did I start feeling like this. I question so many aspects of my life thanks to my adoptive mother and her controlling ways, I got so sick and tired of people defending her, saying she did it because she didn’t want to hurt me. As much as I hate to speak ill of the dead and given how much I loved her, (she died when I was 11, I didn’t learn the truth until I was 17) I can’t help but resent her and sometimes hate her because I feel like I was some sort of possession or weapon to be used against my biological mother. It’s a long and painful story to be honest, my family is pretty damn toxic, maybe I’ll be able to put it all into words one day, but right now…I just feel too much anger and resentment to be able to do so.

Another example – I never felt like I wasn’t a priority to my adoptive parents with to their own biological children, I wasn’t accepted. I’m older now and it’s even more apparent the last 15 years. My adoptive parents adopted 5 kids in total and their biological children didn’t want anything to do with any of us. Always shunned us out. Even now, they never want us around their kids etc. It’s sad. I think they were jealous in some way. But I always felt like I did something wrong or I wasn’t good enough. Rejection trauma hurts.

This response is all too common (my mom was like that and passed it down to us girls) – I think my insecure attachment led to this. I am such a people pleaser and I tend to hide my emotions, so I’m not ‘a burden’. I’m deep down scared that if I act in or feel a way that others don’t approve of, people with leave me. With therapy, it’s gotten a lot better but my first instinct will probably always be to fawn. Another agreed – I think part of it is my people pleasing nature, I let people walk all over me and put my own stuff aside.

As the child of two adoptee parents, who now knows what my parents didn’t, who our original families were, this has been my experience too and on some level I understand – I don’t share life history with these people, it feels more like an accident of my parents’ birth – “I am a part of 4 different families. After finding my biologicals, I still don’t “fit” anywhere. It’s not at all a negative reunion story, I just don’t fully belong,” and that includes my adoptive relations. It has been the surprising downside of learning our truth.

Another adoptee perspective – I rarely even prioritize myself. I find more value in those around me than myself and feel I’m wasting time when I focus on me. I end up thinking that’s probably how others view me too. I’m also not sure what being a priority would look/feel like… I question if I’d recognize it or accept it, even if it were happening.

It is so universal, the wounds are deep and it never seems to get better – Even when I can look at how someone is treating me and can logically tell that I’m valued and a priority, I still don’t feel it. For me I think that it comes from feeling like an outsider in my family, I’m always waiting for the rejection.

I feel like I have to be super helpful just to get recognition that I’m a good person. It’s screwed up. I don’t feel good enough or worthy, even though I know I am… I still do these things to feel noticed and wanted.

Finally this admission – I am a reunited adoptee, very much integrated into my birth family. I was raised the youngest of four adopted children in a family that contentiously broke up when I was three. I was left out so many times in adopted family and am now having the experience of feeling excluded from something in my birth family. It has totally triggered my abandonment issues. The fact that I generally feel left out and am often alone, in general, with friends and family. Once again, I turn to forgiving others for not being who I wanted them to be and forgiving myself for wanting them to be people they are not. It’s tiring though.

How To Answer What’s It Like

Though my mom talked to me about her being adopted, my dad never did. I didn’t have enough background foundation to ask more direct questions of my parents and since they are both deceased, that opportunity has been lost to me. Therefore, I am always interested in adoptee’s who share how it feels to have been adopted.

Some stories for a Sunday morning –

As an adoptee, I get a lot of questions about my experience and feelings toward my adoption. I have found great value in trying to understand and explain those experiences. Recently I was asked by a friend, “What is it like for you to be an adoptee during childhood ? What about as an adult, is it the same or is the experience different ?”

I have so many mixed feelings about it confusion, pain, anger, and loneliness are the primary feelings I have about it, especially when I was younger. I didn’t understand why I was so different from my family and from others. It was always a hot button for someone being a jerk to press – being unloved by my birth mother or disposable by her. I mean, the family I grew up in ? We don’t look alike, act alike or even communicate in the same ways. I was sent away during a four year period of my childhood to boarding schools and wilderness programs because they said I was “out of control.”

I just had so much anger when I was younger but now I truly believe that my adoptive parents had no idea how to handle me. I didn’t get to say things like “it’s because of my heritage,” or “it’s the Irish in me” because I really didn’t know my history. Those feeling are subsiding with age and time and my search for who I am increases yearly. I want to share those genetic connections that others share and see my quirks in another person, without seeming like I am ungrateful.

My adoptive parents are very supportive of this search but I know that it does hurt them. As a father myself, I am finally experiencing some of those things and kinds of similarities I always wanted, and it is a beautiful feeling. The feeling now is more longing, hope, and feeling lucky to be alive (I know this is not a popular thought with all adoptees but it’s how I feel), and an acceptance of my own reality as I create for my own self my life going forward. It still hurts, a lot. And it fills me with the constant fear regarding my other relationships that I might again experience being abandoned.

Blogger’s note – my father never did get that son he wanted. My parents had three daughters and so, maybe that is why my mom was more forthcoming with me, than my dad was.

Another one – I was fostered from birth and forced to become an adoptee at the age of 10 (it was a closed adoption during the Baby Scoop Era, a period in history starting after the end of World War II and ending in the early 1970s, my mother was coerced to relinquish her rights just before I turned 8 years old).

I still hold a deeply felt anger for the lies I was told and also the physical and mental abuse at the hands of the woman who was allowed to adopt me. I miss my natural mother daily – always have and always will. What I have found empowering as an adult adoptee (yes, it is part of who I am & always will be — I am an adoptee) is speaking out for others, advocating for current foster and adopted youth, so that there’s the opportunity for them to have a better childhood than the one I experienced.

I never would have thought so but doing the DNA tests and discovering living blood relatives (aside from my daughter and her family — who are descendants – and my estranged mother — I never knew of anyone) has been healing. Additionally, I’ve become very involved in building out both sides of my ancestral/heritage family tree. It has been an education in many ways, and although there is a bittersweet sadness to so much, there is also an identification of where I actually do belong within the life/death continuum and that has been an emotionally uplifting experience that has caught me off guard but in a mostly positive way. I am honoring their ancestral (genetic/genealogical) legacy, at the same time I am acknowledging my own place, while learning many things that even my mother (who hid my existence) never knew.

Blogger’s note – for my own self as well. Doing the DNA tests at Ancestry and 23 and Me have filled in the gaps that parents died never knowing. I still need to complete the “new” family trees I started for each of them with their birth identities and genetic relations at Ancestry. It just feels like the right thing to do for each of them. I now have family history. When one has grown up without that, it is difficult to describe how amazing that actually feels.

The next story – I was in the fog until I was about 20. I always knew I was adopted. And my adoptive parents did so much better than most. I always felt like the rug would be pulled out from under me. Always waiting for some big bad disaster. Always distrusting and always feeling like I was somehow “wrong.” As an adult, I have worked really hard to break the cycle of harm. But I still always feel like I have to prove something or I am not valid. And I don’t think I will ever feel like I fit in anywhere.

One last story – as a child I was very curious about my heritage, I always wondered if I had siblings. My adoptive parents gave me a good childhood, we did a lot of things and they were very loving. As I got older, I was also “out of control” and my parents didn’t know what to do. I ended up, moving out at 17 years old.

I had been living in the fog, up until last year. Now, as an adult, it’s like a rollercoaster. An unexplainable ride of emotions from good to bad and everything in between. I’ve been through my reunion. I have 4 half brothers, who I love dearly. I have no relationship with either biological parent. No romantic relationship in my life BUT it’s nice to know that I’ve consistently sabotaged most of them, due to my fear of abandonment (now I understand why). I’ve spent the last year or so really healing from my adoption trauma and it’s felt really good. I still have pain that will never go away. I struggle mostly with the desire to love my biological mother as I “should” and resenting her terribly for abandoning me (twice). She wants no relationship with me and I’m ok with that, it just makes me sad.

Valentine’s Day for Adoptees

Searching for a topic for a day like this related to adoptees, I found this Huffington Post blog – Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Adoptees’ Worst Fear Will Likely Come True – by Ben Acheson. The image I chose seemed to fit the sentiments of some adoptees that I have encountered. The subtitle of Ben’s essay notes – What if Valentine’s Day, or relationships in general, were a stark reminder of the most painful and distressing events that you ever experienced? What if they triggered a trauma so terrifically challenging that it forever altered your approach to life? Welcome to Valentine’s Day, and relationships, for adoptees.

Ultimately, Valentine’s Day is about relationships, or the lack thereof. It may evoke unpleasant memories of lost loves, but the nostalgia is normally forgotten by the time the flowers wither and the chocolates disappear. Or does it ?

Take a moment to balk at such a provocative, nonsensical claim; that saving a child through adoption could lead to a life of relationship problems. It is ungrateful and even accusatory to altruistic adopters. It is insulting to those battling depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and other psychological issues associated with adoption.

The development of intimate relationships can be a major challenge for adoptees. Their first and most important relationship was irreparably destroyed. The person supposed to love them most disappeared inexplicably. Then they were passed to strangers and expected to pretend that nothing happened.

The impact of that severed relationship is colossal. It permanently alters everything they were destined for. It alters how they attach to people. It causes bonding problems. It leaves them angry, sad and helpless. It interferes with emotional development and instils a persistent fear of abandonment within them.

This fear impacts future relationships. Many adoptees fear that what happened once might happen again. They fear that each new relationship, like the very first one, will not last. If their own mother abandoned them, then why won’t others?

It affects their ability to trust. Their trust in adults was shattered when they were most vulnerable. The idea that their mother loved them so deeply that she gave them away is a confusing paradox. Connection, intimacy and love are forever intertwined with rejection, loneliness and abandonment. Being unable to remember the traumatic events only compounds the problem.

Adoptees are sensitive to criticism and have difficulty expressing long-suppressed emotions. They have hair-triggers and lack impulse control, frequently overreacting to minor stresses. They can be manipulative, intimidating, combative and argumentative. Total absence of control over childhood decisions gives them an unrelenting need for control in adulthood. A counterphobic reaction of ‘reject before being rejected’ is a classic sign of stunted emotional development and unresolved trauma. That is not to say that adoptees do not want intimacy. They often want to ‘give everything’. They yearn for a close, trusting connection. They want to let someone ‘in’, but the openness and vulnerability is petrifying. Letting someone ‘in’ also opens the door to rejection.

Even if partners recognize that deep, sensitive wounds exist, they tire of walking on eggshells. The emotional rollercoaster is exhausting. They become sick of the ‘parent-role’ they often assume. Even if the adoptee matures and gains insight into their behavior, the damage may have been done. Partners may reach the breaking point and leave. But who is to say that failed relationships cannot be a blessing in disguise? For adoptees, the important lesson might be that you sometimes need to fail in order to truly succeed.

Adoption IS Trauma

Today’s adoptee story –

Through writing this story, I became *very* angry with my biological mother for the first time since I met her almost ten years ago now.

I’ve always known I was adopted (at birth, through Catholic Charities, not “private” adoption but also not a foster care adoption.). I had great adoptive parents, who I know loved me (but didn’t always). There were no biological children in the family. My sister was adopted at four years old (when I was six) from foster care.

Blogger’s note – adoptive parents often adopt another child to be a sibling to the first one they adopted. This was true for my mom – the Jill for the Jack they already had – as her adoptive mother actually wrote in a letter to the Tennessee Children’s Home Society. This was true for my dad – who’s adoptive mother went back to The Salvation Army home for unwed mothers in El Paso TX to get a brother for him.

I always, always, always felt alone. I’d cry, when I was very young, and curl up on the couch and sob “I want to go home, why can’t you just let me go home.” I’d never known another home, but that was what I always wanted when I was very small, was to “go home.”

I always believed I was something different than my peers. I found it hard to make friends. I had no sense of my own identity. I spent my entire childhood longing for my blood kin. When I grew up and finally found them, only my mother and her younger son (who wants nothing to do with me) were alive. My older sister, my father, my older brother, all gone.

Blogger’s note – it is interesting that as a child I never connected the dots that my parents being adoptees made me “different”. I never thought about the fact that my parents were “different” from the parents of my school peers, that their parents were not also adopted, though subconsciously I knew this because I could not say to anyone what my cultural identity was (Danish, Scottish are what I have learned, along with Irish and English).

Even now, in my early forties, a part of me feels like there’s something about me not worthy of being wanted by them, not worthy of knowing them (the biological, genetic family).

I’d have rather been aborted.

Blogger’s note -This is true for many, not all adoptees, but in my all things adoption group, I’ve seen this written many times.

Great adoptive family or not, this life is not what I deserved. My biological mother doesn’t regret her choice. And part of me hates her for that, now that I’ve had some time to really process everything that’s happened since we met.

This is not a life I would wish on any person.

Adoption IS trauma.