being privately adopted means that you are placed in a witness protection program designed to appear to help the Adoptee live a life free from the stigma and shame that you would have to face head on beside your Mama. Which means she would have had to witness it and assist the child in maneuvering through that stigma and overcome it. Adoptees do this alone in this world, and seek help.
I sought my help from God. It seemed that I needed to go to the top with this problem. Only God could see what was hurting us all.
Because I am not alone. Adoptees share this stigma. A stigma that’s so deeply intrenched within the psyche of those who adopt and who relinquish. The stigma is that we are somehow able to perform like the families we are sent to.
Private adoptions withhold so much data from those who need it. And I know I would have done better had that information been shared with me instead of hidden. It’s hard to make sense if your life with so many missing pieces.
My Mamas did the best they could at the time. But the times have changed. And Adoptees have grown up and can speak for themselves about how well Adoption fit for them.
I went through the same stigma growing up adopted as I would have if Mama had kept me. It’s was compounded by my lack of resources about why I am like I am? And I found myself having to explain something I completely didn’t understand myself? Why do I cat like I do? I wonder that myself? Many times it angered me and still does.
Mama Jean feels unappreciated. And I have dedicated much of my life to caring about her, loving her, doing things for her, working to be my best? Whatever that looks like? I don’t know if I can be my best with two woman trying to pull on my strings to make me comply to their wills?
“Don’t talk about Linda”, one says, the other tells me, “well, ask Your Mom to help”. It’s like a ping pong match. Back and forth. Like hello! I am a person here! I came from Linda! It’s in my name? And I am also Mama Jeans daughter now as well. So we have a doubly showing at that matinee today! I mean these two are just priceless in their relent to stay the same? When I was not afforded the luxury of staying the same?
At two days old I had to change. Everything!
- My home.
- My family
- My heritage
- My name
- My identity
- My way of being, that I just learned for 9 month
- My mind about everything. There was no absolute for me again.
- My foundation
- My language. I had learned another woman’s language
- My way of seeing the world naturally changed. My new Mama saw things differently than me. And still does.
And I’m like Linda Marie. Yeah. And Linda Marie has gotten me in trouble ever since I had to go away. Because the DNA is strong. Linda like things a certain way. And I told Mama Jean this. All the time. But she did it her way and now, this is what we get.
Linda Marie would come out of my mouth and tell Mama Jean when she wasn’t doing it right. Most Moms know? And trying to tell your new Mama what you need is hard. She doesn’t see anything wrong? Or strange about her way? And yet I did. And yet I kept going and worried to be my best?
What more can a girl do? Keep trying and keep going. I want to be the best daughter I can.
It’s like I speak some weird language and neither of them get me? Does any other adoptee ever feel like that? Does anyone get what I am saying here? Can anyone back anything that I’ve said up?
Like I feel like a miner mining for gold. And my Mamas got some other stuff that needs to be picked away so we can get to the hold of it. But we all are stuck. I want to be understood. And if Mamas blocking me? I have not succeeded. I haven’t. And I’m using all my words. And explains myself to death?
I can see why many Adoptees wrestle with suicide? It’s daunting. It’s tiring. All this and that that we must explain and not understand because all our informations gone. Removed. Withheld from us. For what?
Who does adoption protect? I feel alone. I feel I stand alone in this world wide street today. I know I have god. But who else? What’s the use? Why? Go? On? I get it.
And that’s why I write. Hell no. I’m not staying there. If that’s what they want to think? Don’t talk to me then. Go. Live that fantasy and live without understand your own daughter? That is what this feels like.
Do I want to stay her thinking this? But mamas not answering and Mama Jean tired. Port babies? Once a Mama, always a Mama. The job never end. Help me for God sake women.
That’s your job.
Mine is to use my word and ask and point to the booboo and you two kiss it and make it better! Yes both of you! And I will kiss you back? Any other idea is a lie.
Babies cry for something. People cry for something. What is it? I want my Mamas. Both of them. Now no need them both.
Hey. You reading this. I care about you. I want you to have what yours. I want us all to be able to go home.
Thank for diving deep with me today.
Me in the street per say? Feeling alone and misunderstood.