Being Adopted is like being in trouble.

My adoptive Host Mama is a my way or the highway kind of girl. No tea parties. The tea cups are for show. No playing in the house. You’ll mess it up. Go into the toy room. Where it’s a mess. Like you.

Don’t mess up your clothes. Don’t wear your play clothes to school. What will everyone say? No one will like you? These are the things told to me by my host Adoptive Mama. Did she replace Mama? No. I could have taken that from Mama? Because I had to take it from Mama Jean.

So who was I in danger of? Mama? Society? God? Men? Shame? Yeah. To bad. It’s didn’t work. They all visited me in some way or another. And no one believes me about my Mama. And said she wouldn’t come. That’s she was not great. I fought a preachers daughter for what she said about Mama. Well. Not fight. Knocked her down and made he take it back. Never got expelled. She had it coming. Everyone saw me take it. Everyone saw me playing that quiet game. Until I’d had it and kicked her ass for Mama. Yeah.

Mama Jean didn’t even see it. No one told her why. She’s was in her own world and mad I drew attention to myself. I was supposed to be seen and not heard. I’ve felt like I was a captive. Because I said what I wanted and was laughed at.

psychecafe

I am an Adapted, artist, Mother, a soul, a human, singer, writer, activist, minister and deprogrammer and reprogrammer of minds. And I am here because we need to change how you see it, a lot of things that is. For us Adoptees who have lived in the dark. We were cut off from our families. And that is sad people.

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