September 13, 2017
I can’t believe it’s almost 7 years since I found my family. It hurts so much to know that you are all out there, and I am so alone.
It’s been over 2 years since my mother died, and I haven’t heard a word from my family. I don’t think anyone can imagine how bad that feels. It’s a terrible curse to have a family, but not be part of it.
The last family member I heard from was my cousin W. She told me that the entire family decided that it was best not to have any contact with me. Best for who? I asked, but there was no answer. It’s not best for me, so I guess it must be best for the rest of you.
It was best to give me away as a newborn, and best to shun me as an adult. But, never, ever best for me. Best for me would have been to live and grow up with my family, and best for me would have my family accept and love me as I am. I will never get that. What’s best for me is not very important to my family.
I still live with the pain of being cast out. It does not get better.
I did not attend my mother’s memorial. My brother kicked me out of hospice on her last day. He asked when he got to be alone with his mother. I guess his whole life was not enough for him.
My mother and her friends hated me, so I thought it best to stay away from the memorial. I never saw my brother, John after he kicked me out of hospice.
You are the one with the mystery illness, but my mother was the one who died. Life’s funny like that.
Anyway, just wanted to let you know how much being abandoned, and shunned hurts. I’m pretty sure you don’t care, since you always do what’s best for you. And never, ever what’s best for me.
My dear mother died 2 years ago today.
I was not there. My auntie was, I made sure Mom was not alone. I gave her her sister. Aunt Ginny was in jail when I told her Mom was sick. She was in a bad way. I bought her a bus ticket, from Michigan to NYC, so she could be with my mother. I couldn’t do it, because I was a stranger to my own mother.
Mom was not comfortable with me. I guess it was because she gave me away, and because she was mentally ill.
I don’t understand mental illness. I never had experience with it, before I found my mother. I did not know how cruel mental illness was. It allows a person to do terrible things. They don’t want to do those things, but their mind bends in a way that makes them think what they are doing in OK.
I still have a lot to learn. I’m still so angry, at my mother, at the world. At whoever made me what I am.
I never got to know my mother. Oh God, why did you do this to me? Are you to blame?
My co worker’s mother died a few days ago. Some of us from work went to the wake. Jill’s mother looked beautiful, laid out in the casket, in a smart red suit. Her beloved Jelly beans and a deck of cards were tucked in beside her.
Jill’s mother was 95 when she died, in Jill’s house, where they had been living together for years. Jill was by her side when she passed. Jill’s daughter was there too. It was a “good death”, if such a thing can be good.
Of course, seeing Jill and her mother brought back a lot of feelings about my own mother’s death.
I was there near the end, with Mom, but not at the end. Mom was in hospice. I was not really a welcome visitor in my mother’s room. I did not go to Mom’s memorial service. I did not view her body. She was cremated immediately. I longed for one last look, but it was not to be.
I had no choices regarding Mom’s care, her service or her remains. I am her firstborn, and natural next of kin, but adoption erased all that. I was merely an unwelcome stranger.
Someday I may bury my adoptive mother. I’ll be the next of kin. As an only child, I’ll make all the decisions. But, she is not my mother. My mother is dead.
Dear Adoption, You Erased Me
I am not part of my family anymore. I am not my mother and father’s child. My birth certificate was altered, and the person that I was born to be was erased from history, forever. You took my name, and my home.
You took my mother. Maybe she went along with it, but the result was she was gone. It’s as if I was photo shopped onto another family portrait.
I think about you every day. Some think that you should be part of my past, but you are not. You are part of everyday. I’m not able to put you behind me, and forget you. You are there every time I look in the mirror, and see my mother. You are there when I see my adoptive mother. You are there when I look at my children, and when I try and sleep at…
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The world is a wonderful place. I’m glad that I’m here. My husband and children bring me great joy and happiness.
We just returned from a road trip, from New York to Orlando, Florida. 6 of us in my 10-year-old minivan. She preformed like a champion! Smooth, no breakdowns or problems at all. We rented a house, and toured the theme parks. 6 adults. I was tired, but happy.
I’m still adopted, of course. That hurts all the time, but travelling helps. As long as I keep moving, I don’t think about things so much. Now that I’m back, so are the thoughts.
Being with my children is so great. I cannot imagine not wanting to know them. I can’t understand my father’s thinking. How can you have a child, and grandchildren out there in the world, and not want to see them, ever? It makes no sense to me.
How can you decide some of your children are worth knowing, but one is not? I wish someone could explain it to me. My father will not. Are there any readers out there who have done this to one of their children, and can explain the reasoning behind it?
Why the whole family shunning me? I understand it’s to support my father, but don’t I deserve love and support as well? Am I some sort of sub-human, because of my adoption? Please, explain, if you can. I would love to understand, but the ones who’ve done this will not talk to me.
I had some trouble sleeping tonight, so I decided to come downstairs and write a little. It always happens at night. The thoughts get to be too much. I still don’t know how to quiet them.
I think of my mother’s death. The way it happened. The way I was treated. My mother died, and I had to mourn alone. I did not attend my mother’s memorial service. She has not been buried, to my knowledge, so I have nowhere to go and pay my respects.
My eldest daughter read something that said Christians must be buried, so that other Christians can visit the graves. This is something else that’s been taken from me, against my will.
I also think about the Shunning. My father’s family has shunned me. I found out a few months ago, from a younger cousin. I had always hoped that my cousins would not hold the same views regarding infant adoption as the older generation. I had hoped that they would not be ruled by shame, as much as their parents were. I was wrong. This young woman told me that I deserved the shunning, for reasons she was not sure of, but she was sure that they were justified.
It’s interesting how each side of my family reacts differently to me. My mother’s family was not traditional. There are many half siblings, and non-traditional family structures. This side has been more accepting of me. My father’s family is very traditional, considered a model family by some, and they shun completely. Not one family member will break the ban.
I did some research into the psychology of shunning.
It’s a cruel form of psychological torture.
My fathers family is a cruel family. They support and approve of my abandonment as a helpless infant, and have shunned me.
Social rejection occurs when a person or group deliberately avoids association with, and habitually keeps away from an individual or group. This can be a formal decision by a group, or a less formal group action which will spread to all members of the group as a form of solidarity. It is a sanction against association, often associated with religious groups and other tightly knit organizations and communities. Targets of shunning can include persons who have been labeled as apostates, whistleblowers, dissidents, strikebreakers, or anyone the group perceives as a threat or source of conflict. Social rejection has been established to cause psychological damage and has been categorized as torture or punishment. Mental rejection is a more individual action, where a person subconsciously or willfully ignores an idea, or a set of information related to a particular viewpoint. Some groups are made up of people who shun the same ideas.[3
Shunning causes pain to the shunned, as it is supposed to:
Shunning is often used as a pejorative term to describe any organizationally mandated disassociation, and has acquired a connotation of abuse and relational aggression. This is due to the sometimes extreme damage caused by its disruption to normal relationships between individuals, such as friendships and family relations. Disruption of established relationships certainly causes pain, which is at least an unintended consequence of the practices described here, though it may also in many cases be an intended, coercive consequence. This pain, especially when seen as unjustly inflicted, can have secondary general psychological effects on self-worth and self-confidence, trust and trustworthiness, and can, as with other types of trauma, impair psychological function.
Why so much pain and injustice in my life? Sometimes I joke that I must have done something awful in a previous life, but it’s really not very funny.
I wake at night, and all this runs through my mind, and I can’t stop it. I think about my mother, how much I loved her, how she betrayed me. I have not seen nor spoken to my brother since he kicked me out of hospice.
At my job, when someone’s parent dies, they post an obituary on the company website. When my mother died, they did not, because in society’s eyes, she was not my mother. She was not my mother. She was not my mother. That makes no sense. Why is it only in adoption that the woman who gives birth to you is not your mother?
Shunning and victim blaming happen a lot in Adoptionland. How did something that’s supposed to be for the good of a child, turn into the hell that I’m living in?