Maybe I’ve Got it All Wrong

Published January 14, 2018 by maryleesdream

 

Family-gallery-for-clip-art-pictures-of-families-clipartcow

 

I think my birth parents are my parents, not my adoptive parents.

I do not think I’m related to my adoptive parents at all.  I can’t understand how I can be expected to believe unrelated strangers are my family.  I was raised by, and around my adoptive family, but I never,ever thought, or wished that I was related to any of them.

They’re OK people.  Not too bright, actually.  My mother was much smarter.  More damaged, for sure, but quick, in a way the adopters are not.  Mom & I both have large vocabularies.  A-mom, not so much.

It’s not a popular point of view, but it’s one I just cannot shake.

No one likes it.  My adoptive family think it’s wrong, because my A-parents raised me, and I should see them as my parents.  My birth family doesn’t like it.  I’m not sure how they feel about it, but it seems they don’t consider me a relative, and wish I would just vanish.  Which I have.  I have little contact with my natural family, 7 years after reunion.

We may have no contact, but they are still my relatives.  No matter what everyone else believes.

Are there any others out there like me, who do not understand how we’re supposed to believe strangers are our families?  Please let me know how it is for you.

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8 comments on “Maybe I’ve Got it All Wrong

  • My parents are my parents…we share DNA. I look like them, I think like them. My daughter looks like her paternal side but has the mannerisms and hobbies of her maternal grandmother. They never got the chance to meet. I also have adoptive parents. I do not look like them except that we all have brown hair. I do not think like them and my children don’t resemble them…except for the brown hair. They don’t think like them either. Just like we don’t share anything with any adoptive family member to whom my adoptive family thinks we are related…except for the ones with brown hair. I wonder if I’ve been told too many times that I must be related to my adoptive family because we all have brown hair. 🙂

  • AGREED!! Adoptees are the only human beings on the planet legally and socially ostracised from their kin. Why do we have to continue this delusion? It’s certainly not *for* us. I’m sick of being forced to keep living a lie. My mother is my mother, no qualifier. My family is my family, no qualifier. Any subsequent carers are just that, carers.

    • Yes. But somehow, our thoughts on the matter are not validated. We are told how we are supposed to feel from infancy. I am 55, and people do not want to hear anything negative about infant adoption.

      It’s as if what happened to us must be hidden. Very sick stuff, yet we are supposed to be just fine with it.

  • Totally agree with you. It’s hard enough as an adoptee to have no connection with real family and real roots but then to be implicitly or explicitly coerced into playing this ‘my adoptive parents are my real parents’ game is enough to drive you crazy.

    Since I found my real family a few years ago, it’s really highlighted how I have always felt about my adoptive parents. There is no connection there. They’re just strangers who “took me in.”

    Adoptees have been pawns in this game long enough.

  • In my quietest self, I know I am my son’s mother.

    When I was pregnant at 16, I was told I was just a vessel; that my son’s aparents were his ‘real parents’.

    Since reunion, I’ve been told by everyone that I’m everything from a birth-dog to an incubator but never a mother; that that title is not mine. That pregnancy and birth just don’t count. That ancestry – our great journey through time – is immaterial.
    That all the profound connections between me and him are imaginary.

    It is so hard to hold on to what you know. It is so easy to have that knowledge wrenched from you when the whole world opposes what you know. But you just have to know it.

    I salute the respect you are showing yourself and your own experience.

  • I didn’t discover I was adopted until I was 38 and by then my adoptive parents were long gone. Only in recent years have I learned the identities of my bio parents, also deceased. Both of my bio parents had problems that made it difficult for them to take good care of their families and they were also married to other people. My adoptive parents loved me and my sister, Melissa, also adopted, but they had their problems, too. I never felt like I fit in. Adoption is complicated.

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