So while spot-painting and cleaning downstairs, I was listening to a podcast of a recent "This American Life" and it was about people trying to find, finding, or choosing not to find their birth families. This was already on my mind due to a recent conversation with a friend about her husband finding his birth family and some issues [hurt feelings] that come up with his adopted family.
One of the stories really struck me, as the woman was describing finding her birth mother in Korea and answering why she went on such an arduous journey to find her mother, she said, "Because I was tired of the years of therapy to 'get over' this feeling of being thrown away. I wanted to hear from my mother's mouth the circumstances surrounding my birth, my surrender, my adoption, everything. I had fought this feeling of being rejected my whole life and it had affected every relationship, everything in my life!"
Bingo.
Exactly what I've been thinking and feeling. Little do many people know, but I've been in therapy for three years now. I've never told anyone, not even my family and closest friends, and this has been the main theme running through most of my sessions. Rejection. Being cast aside. Being overlooked. Being never good enough. This is still happening in my life, through unhealthy friendships, unhealthy relationships, and even the double whammy of being rejected by first birth parents and then adopted parents.
I was adopted at the age of six after several years in foster care. I don't remember my birth mother, but my social worker told us "it wasn't because we weren't loved but rather that she was unable to care for us"....whatever that obscure nonsense means. Was she mentally handicapped? Was she too young? Was she a drug or alcohol abuser? Was she too poor? A bit more specifics would be great. And, because South Carolina has closed adoptions and she has yet to register with the Adoption Registry, I may never meet her and get those questions answered. So most days, I have to tuck those musings away and forge on.
I was adopted by a minister and his wife, a school teacher, who were (and are) very conservative and very strict. As a mother, I now value their strictness and I 'get it'. They raised us the best way they knew how, just like every parent does. They had high expectations of us and expected us to perform accordingly. I won't go into the details of our post-adolescent relationship, but like many young adults and parents, it was rocky. The difference is, ours has never healed. My parents don't call, don't write, don't email, don't text, don't Facebook-message; the only thing they do is mail packages of gifts to the kids on holidays. "Why don't you just call them, then?" you may ask...because I have.
For years, I was the one who called, who maintained contact, and then what began as a very tough time in my personal life, in which I was so focused on caring for myself and the kids, turned into a period of silence where I realized that I hadn't called them in months and they had never bothered to call me. Huh. So I just didn't call...and here we are, over two years later. We still receive packages on holidays, but no personal communication at all. It's like being given up for adoption all over again, except with the sting of being an adult and being acutely aware of exactly what's going on. Rejection. Rejection of my lifestyle, my values, my decisions, my life.....which, in a lot of ways, is even more painful than the rejection by my birth mother. I was merely a child then and can be placated significantly by the thought that I was not at fault for her rejection, but in this case, I am an adult and my parents' rejection of me is a direct result of who I am.
I struggle daily with feelings of inadequacy, failure, and low self-worth. I do not fit the mold of the typical, Southern Christian girl in pearls and boutique clothes. I don't care much for name-brand clothes, my home is frequently messier than it "should be" (usually because we're out working for others instead of vacuuming my baseboards), and I don't typically conform to what's considered "normal". And I'm OK with that. But it doesn't hurt any less that I have been repeatedly rejected for simply being who I am. A part of me thinks maybe I should just give up and play the part, but I can't do it. I can't be who I am not, I can't pretend to be something I'm not, and dammit, my family of all people should accept that. They should accept that I've made mistakes, I've made decisions they'll never agree with, and that it's my life to live, not theirs...and not theirs to judge. I am not ashamed of my life- I've gone through a great deal and come out a strong, independent woman who is using her skills to help others and I am proud of that.
Looking for my birth mother's answers to these issues is not my focus. She gave birth to me and, for whatever reason, couldn't care for me. I get that and I can easily move past that. But I would appreciate some answers from the people who adopted me, raised me, and then have held me at arms' length and refused a real relationship.
Just my musings....thanks to NPR, another busy day in the garden of my mind....
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