When you are adopted

When you are an adopted person the world is quite different. The kept ones never know the sting of our world that looks so great and isn’t home. Feeling on parade for strangers to gawk at and wonder. Like being a circus freak under wraps serving time for her parents actions. When they made their little ball of mistaken joy.

Growing up living with being deemed a mistake. So lovely. So many carrying people all around trying? To figure you out? Like the exercise equipments made back in the day that now has no instruction manual. they turn me this way and try, them turn me that way and try. They they take a screw driver to me? Push all my buttons and done like that response? And no one asking me? Because I am a human and can talk. Who? Listened? Did I feel listened too? No. It’s hard to feel heard when you are constantly told to play the quiet game.

I’ve tried to explain. As you can see if you’ve kept up with me? I really was kind of stopped for so long from being able to speak about it and form better words. But thanks to this blog I am able to speak freely now so I can find better ways to explain what it’s like being me in my circumstances. The sad thing is? At the end of adoptions day when I am all grown up, and find my own Mama, she seem the same as the other Mama and wants me to play quiet too.

Adoption for me feels much like being autistic. I can think for myself if folks will just be supportive. After 50 some years of being quiet and struggling on my own while surrounded by people who say they care? It’s gonna take me a minute to get it all out. I would like to be seen properly and according to who I know I am and not peoples perceptions who who I am.

I was first called a mistake.

Nope. That’s not right.

And then the names just kept coming. And doctors were befuddled. I know why. Because they didn’t know my family dynamic and I was all kinds of out of contexts in the new scenario. A round peg being shoved into a square hole day after day after day. And me saying that ain’t gonna work while those who are now in charge of my life trajectory telling me, to be quiet so they can figure me out. Madness. Just madness I grew up in.

Just because I was adopted did not mean that people could just tell me what to do and how to be all day. But they seemed to think they had the right now that Mama gave up her right to be the one to try to tell me what to do. Or how to be.

And that’s just not cool. And I do want adoptive parents to know it’s not cool. We are humans that have been moved and so we won’t look like anyone else’s children do. But we are still amazing people. Just misunderstood. Obviously my mama didn’t understand me? She gave me away? Only to send me to people who really did not get me. Such a cycle. Shhh. Play the quiet game Belinda. My head hurts. Well so does mine. Y’all got it wrong about me.

And now it’s taking me six years to try to carve the mud off your blind eyes to see me properly and maybe gain back my respect. cuz my family sure doesn’t not seem to respect me right now. This does not feel like respect.

And each morning I wake with fresh intel to write to try and open people minds to the child who’s been moved and rearranged all day and how she feels. Only to find no one gives a shit. Again.

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