Being Adopted is like being a piece of your Mama that been put in a forever timeout…and its cruel..

Being Adopted is like being a piece of your Mama that been put in a forever timeout…and its cruel.. Especially when you just want to go home to the one you came from, even if she hates you.

Growing up with Mama Jean who thought I was hers and treated me like her Mama treated her was a cruel joke to play on me. Because my Mama did not act like her. My body revolted to her treatment. And I remember growing up and feeling so wrong and ashamed. Mama Jean was raised with the “Shame on you phrase”, and she did not get or even comprehend how that would make me feel, as an orphan. She did not see me as an orphan, I guess Mama didn’t either? That’s the think about the woman from the sixties, they just cover what is there they don’t like with a table cloth or a coat of paint and just pretend it never was. Until…

Being a child raised in the Adoption world I was, I have some pretty firm opinions about what Adoption felt like for me. And no one validated my feelings. No one, but me. Now.

I remember hearing Mama Jean tell the story about the time I spit at her, when I was three. (Now take into mind the song that keeps playing and the alarm thats going off in me.) I wanted to go home and I did not want Mama Jean… I admit that and am done being shamed for that. I knew what I wanted, but had a hard time making the adults in my life see that, I was their doll to dream with, I was a slave to an idea like Adoption.

On this day that Mama Jean was making cookies, I guess she said something I did not like, Now mind you, I am 3. And she hauled off and slapped me, I went sailing across the kitchen table and landed on the floor. She tells me that it was just a knee jerk reaction. And I feel that is simply not enough, its not a good practice to teach to a child who been abandoned, and is probably some of the reason why I struggled with anger after having children myself. I guess you can only pour out of you what was poured into you. And well, I had plenty poured into me, like a garbage can, folks filled me up.

I was so shocked that Mama Jean told me this. I was shocked that she could tell me the recounting of this event without even a tear or shame on herself. I must have deserved it, and it was one of the events that helped me with my self image. I guess that’s why Mama did not want me? I am not a good girl. I am bad. So, i tried to get used to it, being treated like this. I figured Mama wanted me to learn a lesson or two. I must be a bad girl is how I thought about it. Its hard to see it any other way. Adoptions twisted. And Adoptees minds are twisted in all directions trying to find relief from that sad song and alarm no one even gives a shit about in you. They have what they want, and you need to be grateful.

I have not always been the best Mama myself. And I own my own missteps and wrong doings. I can’t take it back, just like Mama can’t take back that she sent me to this wicked Church camp called Adoption. But at least I knew what I did not want, to keep me focused when I fell down on my job, as a Mama myself. I felt kind of horrible being a Mama too. I seemed to do what Mama Jean did, and it hurt me so bad that she got under my skin, Mama would not be proud of me being like this, but what does a woman do? When she can’t call Mama to help her be better?

Dont hate Mama Jean for hitting me and probably giving me a concussion, and didn’t know it, because remember, I play the quiet game. But do look at what is. If we can look at what has been for me, we can plan better for tomorrow. Mama can’t really change yesterday. But I guess that I kind of thought that maybe, just maybe, if I spent time with her, she would rub off on me. But she’s got things to do. She’s a buy woman doing Gods work and does not have time for a child that is now, not hers, or so she sees it. Its so strange going home, And its strange being here. Neither feel like home to me now.

I guess I am taking the heat for Mama’s bad deeds of being with my Dad. I am the piece of her she crucified to the cross. I hope all that I have been through will help her atone for whatever misdeeds she has done, and that maybe someday, I will get a crown of my own.

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