Adoption-Being the Adoptee
It feels like I’ve always known I was adopted, we all did. Even the daughter they adopted from me, she just didn’t know about her parentage. My parents tried to package the news as best they could by saying they chose us to be a part of the family but I didn’t buy it. Not after an argument with my mother where she said my mother (biological) didn’t want me. To give you context I had screamed at her that I hated her and wanted to be with my real mother. Mind you, I was a child (seven or eight maybe) and she was the “responsible adult”.
I longed to know my biological family, was my mother tall or short, fat or thin, did she have long or short hair, did I look like her, when was she going to come rescue me from my personal hellscape? I imagined what it would be like to live with her, and wondered if she’d understand me better than my parents, and I was determined that as soon as I could I was going to look for her. I daydreamed a day would come when she and I would have the perfect mother-daughter relationship. Oh, it would be grand but none of my fantasy came true until I was in my late twenties.
For a long time I felt rejected by my biological mother, like she just cast me aside but that didn’t matter. I told myself she realized she had made a terrible mistake but it was too late and she couldn’t change her mind. I didn’t feel like I fit in with my family, maybe I would fit in hers. Did she have more kids? Did she get married? What would it be like to have different siblings? There were so many questions I had but I built her up into a nearly mythical creature like a fairy godmother or something.
I received a phone call from social services, she was looking for me! I met her and all was well for anumber of years until my ex-husband number two drove a wedge between us. Iv’e reached out a few times over the last few years but she doesn’t seem to want to reciprocate. That’s the last chance she’ll ever have to reject me.
As painful as it is to have been cast aside twice I have come to a place where I can empathize and be compassionate. It’s not like I haven’t signed my rights away for the good of my child. In her case, her father made her give me up. There were some other options though, like social services which is the thing that hurts. The second time, I’m not entirely sure why but I don’t need to. What I do need to do is continue to be compassionate towards her and myself, accept that she has chosen to not stay in touch and I have chosen not to try to force a relationship and that’s that. It’s kind of crappy but it is radical acceptance and it puts an muzzle on the loud negative thoughts that invade my head sometimes.
My Phoenix Rising 