Growing up adopted. Felt like

Growing up adopted felt like, growing from one woman’s shame and then thrown into another woman’s shame. I felt it. And it want mine but it did get on me. Shame that is. It was placed on me like some cloak.

My Mama who’s body made me was obviously ashamed of what she had produced. We can see that. Right? She did not jump for joy when told about her bundle of joy. We’ve established that much hopefully. And. I see how woman have been treated back in the day when my Mamas were born.

My Mama made me without permission from anyone but God. But oh? That’s right. I was a mistake? Or Did God make me? seem quite confusing with all these babies being throw around? If I am a mistake then who did make me? See that when it all gets weird? Adoption shows up. Says I’ll take your mistake. Was I a mistake? Or was adoption mistaken? Shame, shame on you. Seems shame has been shaming woman a lot. And shaming us as a society too.

It is much like a puppy mill idea. Woman make the babies and then what? They either like what’s made or they don’t and pass the profit onto another, morrre deserving person. Right? My Mama either don’t want to bet caught hold the bag now baby? Or? What happened to her? Someone told her about this great idea about what to do with those things you make that you simply did not mean to make and can nor keep? Is that it?

Adoption was my second chance at life without shame or so everyone seem to believe. But that’s not the case for me.

So. I was given away to a more suitable candidate. Right? She was suitable. Way more suitable then my first try at life right? But she seemed to have a shame issue herself that needed to be covered up too. By me. She. Couldn’t produce any kind of product at all. Her body seemed to be malfunctioning? And I was sent in to help her with her shame issue. A pattern? Appears.

Now. Everyone knew I was adopted. But Mama Jean didn’t talk about it. she played dumb. She told me at 3 and then dropped it all together. But I did not. It seemed to me that adoption did have significance. I mean I was adopted. It’s on paper that I am. So why hide it or ignore it? But we did ignore it. And Mama Jean played house with me, Linda’s mistake that she did not want or whatever her issue was back then.

It’s weird growing up with two woman who have shame issues. One hides. The other is visible but now your hidden under a label that we just don’t talk about. Shhhh. Seems odd? Everyone wanted me to be adopted and then no one wants to talk about what adopted is? Let alone talk about where and who i came from?? Talking about it is a no no. Shame shame. Kind of game.

Adoptees know this game well. We’ve been forced to live it and love it for years, even if we don’t love or like living it. That’s just the way it is.

So. After reunion. After watching the whole family dynamics go on for a while? I decided to amp it up a little. And just start talking about it openly. My adoption by the way was private. Shhhhhh. Shhhhh. No peeking!

After I began talking every openly about my adoption experiences? Why? My family got all upset. Everyone! All up in arms at Belinda daring to talk about this, publicly!? Oh my. The shame all came up and got thrown onto me, again. But it’s not my shame. There is no shame in my game.

My sisters got upset. My Mamas upset. Mama Jeans numb. Chelsie gone. David’s working. Angela doesn’t know what to think at this point. Why? Everyone just wants me to shut up. And I’m like? I’ve been as quiet as I can folks. This is just stupid all this hush hush. And good relations don’t happen if everyone quiet. We just stay in shame caves and don’t come out to play.

One question might be why now? I would say why not now? Is it my fault still that my Mamas came deal with their own shame and how they used me to cover it? Because I’ve been a bandage long enough. I’ve played quiet long enough. I’ve played nice long enough. Nice is not always kind to the one being forced to be quiet so others can stay comfortable while you stay in the box they put you back in 1963.

If adoption is love them why am I feeling a little bit rejected? Why is my truth so toxic? It’s not toxic if you can take the truth bits a tonic if you can. As if you say oh yes! I see the issue now! Shame. It’s about about shame. We feel shame when we miss a mark. When we sin. Did I sin? Well? I’ve done what the both asked of me. Fair enough? but they don’t seem satisfied? Why?

And that’s why I blog. Two woman. Came together to see about me. They have never met. May never meet. And they are only satisfied when I shut up? Sounds so perfect for them. But what about the person who’s had to live such a life style? What about me the one adoption professed to help?

Adoption just magnified my Mamas shame as I see it. I am the living proof my Mama made me without a marriage license. And because she did not have one of those she got a get out of class pass on me. That’s what I see. And Mama Jean got to have a second chance at Mother hood provided to her by Linda Marie. Just sounds so perfect doesn’t it? Until. You factor my feelings into this equation. Then? It all goes south. Because I have feelings and needs that adoption ultimately did not meet. Those feelings and needs are still being denied right in front of your faces. Is anyone doing anything about it! Just me.

I am speaking up for me. Because my Mamas got what they wanted and now apparently don’t want me to have what I want or need. That. Right there is an issue I see as an adoptee that needs to be looked at and studied. I’ve broken free of the unspoken rules. and I am now flying in this no fly zone called my free speech after the fact.

I’m tired of feeling their shame. And we could rid ourselves of this shame if they both could see fit to really be moms and step up now for me. But that’s not what’s happening is it? No? It’s not? So what do you do? Just keep typing until it’s all very clear who’s who around here. As I clarify who my friend and who’s not. Feeling the amount of shame that I felt is nothing to throw a child into.

Shame could be dealt with way better them a baby to bandage it up with. Because? Now that I am free? They are not free. They are still playing or trying to play by the old rules that now don’t ally. Which is sad. But can be fixed if people will face what is so we can make it better then this.

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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