wound of the mother

I am Adopted.

How many times have I said those words.

Sometimes I would throw the words away as though I didn’t care, look at me I am adopted!

Other times hesitantly, not sure of how the recipient of them would react.

I spent most of my life in denial of how being adopted affected me. I believed myself when I said I was lucky, I had 2 moms and 2 dads and 4 grandmothers and 4 grandfathers….. this was part of my parents dialogue when they told me I was adopted. I have a vague sense of this moment when I was about 7, that life as I knew it was gone forever, the sense I have is of not quite understanding and then a numbness coming over me which I can now recognize as my coping mechanism.

After the numbness came this deep inner sense that it’s not the rest of the worlds fault I am adopted, I cannot make my problems theirs, so let me make sure nobody feels bad or responsible for my being adopted, after all it is me that has inconvenienced the world by arriving here uninvited! Lets not be a burden to anyone with how I really feel about this! I made sure that everyone thought being adopted didn’t bother me one bit. I would proudly blurt it out – like I was special, in fact when I was younger I pulled it off so well my friends would go home and ask their parents why they were not special enough to be adopted! The sad truth about this is that I made myself believe it too. In hindsight I recognize this behavior as a means of emotional survival.

This is how I grew up, in a numb state of who I was, in total denial of who I was, trying to make everyone happy and probably failing miserably. Now that I know some of the effects of adoption I can see I displayed many of them including eating disorders, having children way too young, not feeling good enough, not fitting in with family, friends, society and always taking the unconventional paths in life. (not always a bad thing mind you)

I am also able to see now that I chose friends, work situations, romantic partners… that amplified my sense of not being good enough, not being acceptable, not knowing enough, not loving myself….people who I gave my power to and allowed to “gaslight me”

Then there is this paradox of so desperately needing to be Loved and accepted, when someone does love and accept you, you can’t handle it, you feel unworthy of it, you feel they can’t possibly love and accept you – what do they want? and so push them away.

It was when I had my daughter that I felt the driving need to find my biological mother.

It stirred up so many emotions giving birth to my little girl – It threw me into a place of feeling – this was a place I would dip in and out of over the following 21 years until I totally immersed myself into my wounds and woundedness.

I found myself at our local family centre and before I knew it I had an address of my birth mothers priest!

I wrote him a letter asking if he remembered my birth mother and would he be able to put me in touch with her. At the time I felt like I was the star of some drama unfolding where we would all live happily ever after – I was still in denial of my feelings.

At the time I was 24 with 2 children and divorced – a numb mess!

I found her.

She was married and had other children – it was a lot to take in. Finding blood family that I could see I looked like, understanding I had siblings ( I grew up an only child) there was this little irritating feeling in the back of my being – why was I not good enough to have been kept to be part of the family? – even though I didn’t want to be part of the family – I had my own Mom and Dad.

This really is a very brief outline of what it was to find my biological mother and family – there are so many feelings and wounds to deal with in finding ones biological connection to this life that compound all the issues that come with being adopted. I haven’t yet explored my biological father and his family.

I spent almost 2 years, my children and I, getting to know my birth mother and her family. I was still very numb and looking back I wonder if it was so traumatic I shut down further. I do remember feeling like I was having some sort of breakdown. I couldn’t wait to come back home.

For me home became a place where the only family around me was the one I made. It was safe, there was no one else’s feelings about me to worry about as I navigated my own path. I know this sounds selfish and I don’t think I am expressing it clearly – but it is safe for me here in my own home – when I am with my adopted family in the town I grew up in I sense I need to hide who I am – the me that has taken 48 years to understand and begin to like. It’s like I need to put on the old numb mask of childhood keeping everyone happy – again with cousins and distant relatives I do not feel accepted, as the adopted family member I’m on the outside – this is always at the back of my mind and no matter what anyone says this feeling lies deep within. When I am with my birth family I have to pretend I am happy that my life turned out the way it did (and on a level I am) and that I am not angry that I am not actually and can never be, a true member of their family ( and that is not to say I am unhappy) yes very confusing isn’t it! It’s a case of damned if you do and damned if you don’t! As an adopted person when you embark on a journey to find your biological connections you hurt all those that have loved you – I never wanted to hurt my parents, I love them but I still needed to know. It is seen as a selfish expedition by all the family and friends and serves to deepen the wounds of adoption. Then in finding the biological connection you are seen as a threat to that family – what do you want? All I ever wanted was to know where I came from in the hopes it would give me clarity on who I am – instead, for a long time it deepened the wound of abandonment and the feeling of not belonging anywhere.

What I have understood, there is no medicine that heals being adopted. The wounds run deep, they are the fundamental make-up of the adopted person The only thing you can do is learn to accept them, this is who you are, you can never undo adoption and all the wounds it creates – there is no “getting over it” the only path to some sort of resolution is learning to recognize what being adopted has given you – learn to recognize the wounded patterns in your life and relationships and know when you are responding from your wounded place, and understand and own that in yourself, without self pity.

I have done many years of deep exploration into these wounds. The positive for me is that the numbness is fading, I am accessing and acknowledging those feelings, this is important. It is allowing me to understand who I am in relation to my world and the people in it, I am recognizing when I react out of my wounding as opposed to when someone else is inflicting their wounds onto me – this is a huge step in the direction of healing. Healing does not mean it goes away – for me it means I am able to integrate it into the wholeness of who I am.

Healing means acceptance.

Healing means feeling.

Healing means acknowledging myself and my own feelings – its ok to be angry even though you understand the circumstances in which you were given away. Healing means owning all of your emotions.

Healing means Loving All of yourself .

Healing means letting go of needing to be in control.

from my diary july 2016

If you are dealing with the wounds of adoption and would like to schedule a session with me please get in touch via email: geldawalsh@gmail.com

the painting is one of my daughter when she was small, when doing this piece i had a distinct memory of being that age and feel our blood connection