Adoption: The Infinite Elephant in the Room

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Let's be honest for a second: I recently turned 50 years old, and I do not have enough time left on this earth to fully heal from all the layers of wounds adoption has left me with. I've spent a decade and a half working towards healing after living a lifetime of torment and agony from the secrets and lies in adoption, and guess what I've learned?

I've barely scratched the surface.

The grief, the pain, the losses—they run so deep, more profound than anyone outside the adoptee experience can ever imagine. And here's the cold, hard truth: I will be grieving for the rest of my life over what adoption has taken from me and so many other adoptees.

This isn't some one-time trauma that we can just "move on" from with a little therapy and a few heart-to-hearts. This is lifelong. The infinite elephant in the room—adoption—is so big, so overwhelming, that it takes everything to acknowledge it, let alone deal with the aftermath. And the truth?

The mainstream narrative of adoption is making it more destructive. Society wants us to swallow this happy, shiny story about how we're "lucky" and "chosen." But no one is talking about the loss we endure from day one.

Let me get real bold for a minute: Adoption begins with separation trauma and complex loss—and until that is recognized, we are going to keep seeing adoptees overpopulated in the Troubled Teen Industry, in mental health facilities, in prisons and jails. And yeah, we're going to keep dying by suicide at alarming rates because no one is acknowledging the deep, lifelong separation trauma we carry. The infinite elephant is not just sitting in the room; it's crushing and killing us.

And it's time to face it.

And I know why a lot of adoptive parents don't want to talk about it. They were probably told to pretend everything's okay and not to bring it up, to focus on love, and that it will be enough to move on. This is what MY adoptive parents were told. Maybe they were made to feel that addressing the infinite elephant would somehow make them bad parents.

Adoptive parents might not want to talk about adoption because they fear it will open up a wound—a wound they can't fix. Adoption can feel like a delicate balancing act, where bringing up a child's past or birth family might create emotions they don't know how to handle. Many adoptive parents are afraid that by talking about adoption, they'll cause pain or confusion as if keeping silent will protect their child from the complexity of their own story.

But silence doesn't protect—it isolates.

I believe that another reason adoptive parents may shy away from these conversations is fear of rejection. Deep down, some adoptive parents worry that discussing adoption might make their child feel incomplete or lead them to seek their birth family, which could result in feelings of rejection or displacement for the adoptive parents. This fear of not being "enough" as parents can cause them to avoid discussions altogether in the hopes of maintaining the illusion of a perfect family. However, avoiding these conversations only stirs the adoptee's internal struggle with grief, loss, trauma, identity, and belonging.

There's also a lack of preparedness for adoptive parents. Many weren't given the proper education or support before adopting, so they don't know how to navigate the tough conversations. Adoption agencies often paint a rosy picture without providing the tools necessary to discuss the trauma and loss inherent in adoption. Adoptive parents may feel unequipped to address these complex emotions and, out of uncertainty, choose silence. This lack of preparedness leaves adoptees alone to wrestle with their feelings, often in bewilderment, internal torment, and agony that leads to silence.

I believe society tends to push a narrative of perfection when it comes to adoption. Adoptive parents can feel pressured to uphold this narrative, fearing judgment if they admit that adoption is complex and painful. The idea that love can "fix everything" is so ingrained that adoptive parents might believe discussing the adoptee's birth family or trauma contradicts that belief. They might avoid these conversations out of the desire to shield their child from discomfort and protect the image of a happy, complete family. But the truth is that ignoring the adoptee's past, no matter how painful it might be, only deepens the divide between love and reality.

But here's the deal: pretending everything's okay when it's not is dangerous. Ignoring the infinite elephant won't make it go away. It just makes it grow more extensive and more toxic. People often say, "Let the adoptee lead the conversations in childhood." But here's the problem with that—children don't know how to articulate big feelings, whether they're adopted or not. They don't have the tools to grieve losses they can't even fully understand yet. They need the adults in their lives to facilitate those conversations at age-appropriate times and create a space where they feel safe sharing their hearts. Adoptive parents need to become experts in their own grief and loss so they can then help their children with theirs, and they need to step out of denial that we haven’t lost anything. Just because we were adopted doesn’t mean our beginnings don’t matter to us.

Adoptees as children need help processing their big emotions, and they need the truth to be acknowledged, not buried. We need to stop pretending adoptees didn't have a story before they were adopted. They had a life, a beginning, and it's crucial that the people raising them help them honor that past, not erase it.

I lived that reality in my own adoptive home. Supposedly loving and wonderful on the outside, but behind those closed doors, I faced emotional, sexual, and mental abuse. And no one talked about it because that would shatter the fantasy of the "perfect adoption." So many of us are living with that unspoken reality. And no, it's not just me. So many adoptees have stories that don't fit the fairytale narrative. But they're silenced because no one wants to disrupt the comfort of the adoption "happily ever after" and "all you need is love" myth.

But here's the thing: gratitude doesn't erase grief.

And I'm not about to sit here and pretend otherwise. The mainstream narrative is killing us. The infinite elephant in the room is the truth that adoption is messy, traumatic, painful, and filled with lifelong complex grief and loss. And it's suffocating us.

I'm challenging anyone reading this to stop pretending everything's okay and start having honest, raw conversations about adoption. And if you need help figuring out where to start, grab one of my True-to-Life Greeting Cards. That's why I created them—so we can begin to have these difficult, meaningful conversations in a way that's grounded in love and compassion. Use them at the dinner table this holiday season, bring up an adoptee podcast, or share a book on adoption trauma.

Do something to spark an honest and meaningful dialogue.

Rock the damn boat!

Because if we keep ignoring this infinite elephant, more lives will be lost. More adoptees will suffer in silence, and the world will keep pushing this unrealistic, damaging narrative. We don't have time to keep pretending. I don't have time. I'm tired of being crushed by this elephant, and I'm tired of watching my fellow adoptees suffer.

Let's be honest: the elephant in the room is dangerous. It thrives on silence, and silence equals death. We've lost too many adoptees already to suicide, addiction, and despair.

It's time to talk about it. Now.

I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for honesty. I'm asking for people to listen to adoptees, to hear our stories, and to acknowledge the pain we've carried for decades. We need to shift the narrative to a more authentic one—and we need to start today. Adoption is not just about creating new families; it's also about acknowledging the loss of the families we came from. It's about recognizing that love doesn't erase trauma, and it will never be enough to take our pain away. And it's about finally removing that damn elephant from the room.

The thing about elephants is they're powerful. And the adoption elephant is no different. It holds power over us, the adoptees, and everyone connected to the adoption constellation. When we stay silent, that elephant digs its feet in, making itself more comfortable in our homes, minds, and hearts. But it's not just any elephant—it's trauma. And let me tell you, trauma isn't some gentle giant. It's ruthless. It infects every aspect of life—your relationships, identity, and sense of self-worth.

It destroys, just like the secrecy, lies, and half-truths in adoption do.

For too long, we've been taught to swallow our grief. We've been told to "be grateful" and "move on" as if our entire origin story wasn't ripped from us. How am I supposed to "move on" when I don't even know where I started? When I don't know where I came from? Adoption didn't just bring me into a new family; it took away the family I should have had. And yet, society expects us to smile, be thankful, and pretend we're not dying inside.

So, here's my challenge to you: bring it up. Talk about adoption. Yes, even at the dinner table. Yes, even if it makes people uncomfortable. Because guess what? It's not about their comfort. It's about our survival. We're out here dying in silence while people cling to their feel-good adoption stories. It's time to challenge that. It's time to ask adoptees how they feel—really feel. And when we tell you it's painful, when we tell you it's grief, when we tell you it's trauma, don't look away.

For all the adoptees being silenced on social media platforms, I encourage you to find another way to share your message and never give up! Because the elephant in the room won't go away until we force it out, we remove that elephant piece by piece, article by article, conversation by conversation. And I know it's hard. I know it feels impossible sometimes. But if we don't talk about it, who will? I'm here to tell you we can't afford to stay silent any longer. We're not just changing the narrative—we're saving lives.

So, ask yourself: Are you ready to help us push the elephant out? Or will you stay silent and let it keep growing until there's no room left for the truth?

No One’s Coming to Save Me, So I’m Doing It Myself: A Heartfelt Journey

Photo by Samuel Holt on Unsplash

A personal update - Several years ago, I found myself in a situation that would unravel many years of my life. This time of my life was quite traumatizing, and I have spent the last year and a half healing from it. For the past 6-8 months or more, I haven’t felt like myself, and let me tell you, when your body starts throwing curveballs, you listen. So, I’ve had to throw up some serious self-care boundaries and put my health first—because, let’s face it, no one’s coming to save me but me. I’m on a mission to focus on my heart health and overall wellness, and I’ve made some bold, life-altering changes that may surprise you.

First off, I’ve deactivated my social media (bye Facebook!), except for LinkedIn, because, well, professional connections need love, too. I’m going to bed earlier (who knew 8:30 could feel so rebellious?), journaling like my life depends on it, exercising more, and ditching my phone whenever possible. I’ve cut out anything that doesn’t serve me and started painting again—hello, creative outlet! I’m also spending more time with my kids, keeping my doctor’s appointments like they’re VIP events, and diving into learning everything I can about heart health.

Here’s where it gets juicy: I’ve stopped scheduling plans and now make them based on how I feel. Freedom! I’m doing breathing exercises, meditating, and saying goodbye to unnecessary medications, alcohol, and sugar (which, surprisingly, wasn’t that hard—health over sweets, baby!). Green tea and freshly crushed garlic are now my daily besties, and I’m throwing in supplements for good measure. The best part? I’m saying no without apologizing, and it feels damn good.

You may not see me online much, but trust me, I’m here—just focusing on what matters to me. Shoutout to everyone who’s checked in on me—your calls mean the world. I’ll share more soon, but for now, let’s say a new me is emerging, and I’m ready to make my nature adventures front and center again because if health is wealth, I’m about to be rich in well-being.

Let’s Talk: Your Turn!

Now that I’ve shared my heart (literally!) about adoption, my health, and the changes I’m making, I’d love to hear from you! What are your thoughts on the elephant in the room regarding adoption? Have you experienced or witnessed the silence that surrounds these tough conversations? How can we, together, start tackling the hard truths? And on the topic of health as wealth, what steps have you taken to prioritize your well-being, physical, emotional, or mental? Have you made lifestyle changes that surprised you with how powerful they were? Drop your thoughts, comments, and experiences below! Let’s get real, raw, and ready to support each other on this journey. I’m all ears!

I see you; I feel your pain for all the adoptees who feel forgotten, lost, and alone. Please don’t give up, and know you aren’t alone in feeling like you do.

I have compiled a list of recommended resources for adoptees and advocates. It can be found here: Recommended Resources for Adult Adoptees and Adoption Advocates.

Thank you for reading and for supporting me and my work.

Understanding is Love, 

Pamela A. Karanova

Here are a few articles that highlight the intersection of adoption, grief and loss I recommend reading:

The Essential Role of The Grief Recovery Method in The Adoption Constellation.

Still, Grieving Adoptee Losses, What My Adoptive Parents Could Have Done Differently. 

Acknowledging Immeasurable Adoptee Grief, The Real Mother.

When Adoptees Know Loss Before We Know Love.

Bewildering Adoptee Grief on Infinite Repeat.

I’m Adopted, Help Me!

30 Things To Consider Before Adopting From An Adult Adoptee Perspective.

Adoptee Holiday Grief, The Gift That Keeps On Giving.

Adoption Hasn’t Touched Me. It’s Ruthlessly Kicked My Ass.

Adoption: Mislabeled, Medicated, & Diagnosed Adoptees Could Be Grieving Profoundly.

Adoption: Deconstructing Harmful Myths We've Learned About Adoptee Grief.

Grief From Adoption? Most People Think Of Death and Dying When They Think of Grief.

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