10 Comments

OMG, this is one of the absolute best descriptions of how adoption has affected me and my ability to feel love. Thank you!I was adopted almost 68 years ago at the age of 4 months from catholic charities in Shreveport Louisiana. I was such a sick baby, they weren't sure I would even be "adoptable". I was adopted by an affluent, successful father from Shreveport and a mother who was raised in California in a broken home with an alcoholic father who died when she was 15 and her mother died later in an "insane asylum". I was the baby who was supposed to fix their marriage. I had an adopted brother 5 years older than me. I was told by my adopted mom that I was "spoiled" when they got me and that it took me 2 years of crying myself to sleep. She also told me that she often had to miss all of the "holiday parties" because I was sick! I was told later in life by a trusted aunt that my a-mom didn't want to adopt another child but my dad wanted a daughter. She also told me they adopted me to fix their marriage. Needless to say, I never bonded with my a-mom, she never hugged me or said that she loved me and my emotions and feelings were discounted, discouraged and ridiculed. My a-dad, showed me love and affection but he didn't protect me from my a-mom who soon became a violent, abusive alcoholic. I could never have friends over because of her rageful behavior when drinking and if my dad was home, he would just send me to my room and ask me to "keep the peace". I suffered also with learning difficulties in reading comprehension and math specifically and was considered lazy and not "applying myself". Later as an adult I was diagnosed with ADHD and am still on medication for that. I never felt really loved, or good enough, I felt defective and unwanted, abandoned by my birth mom and I always felt my a-mom judged me because my birth mom was an unwed mother. She even called me a slut a couple of times when I was a teenager. I began to smoke pot at the age of 13, was sent to boarding school at 14, got kicked out of there for having 2 diet pills to help me study for exams at 15. My sweet dad came to pick me up when I got expelled and told the headmaster he was ashamed that he was a priest in the same religion my dad was and that I had gotten rid of the pills as soon as my roommate (who turned me in) told me she was now a narc and would tell if I didn't get rid of the pills. I flushed the pills so no evidence, but I was still kicked out. My Dad said on the way home that he used the same kind of pills in WW2, and that they used to sell them over the counter. He also said he used them to help him study for his law exams. He never shamed me or belittled me. My a-mom said absolutely nothing to me when I got home. She often simply ignored me unless she was in a drunken rage.my Dad was very involved in city, state and national politics, fighting for equal rights for all, decent housing for the poor and for honesty and integrity in our elected officials. He was a brilliant and sought after attorney, independent oil man and civil servant! This meant he was seldom home and my brother was away at college and I was left home with my drunken mom. One night, I came home from eating at my best friend and cousins' house and the door was locked and no lights Left on for me. I knocked and she finally came to the door. I could tell she was wasted, she opened the door, raised her arm and had a butcher knife in her hand coming towards me. I pushed her away, she fell on the floor, I grabbed the knife away and called my aunt. My aunt and her boyfriend came over and he took me back to my aunt's house and my aunt said she would put my mom to bed. I stayed with my aunt and cousins for several weeks, then she asked if I wanted to stay permanently. I did, but my dad wanted me to come home. So I went home. Nothing changed. I barely graduated high school and moved out at age 17. I ran off with my boyfriend for a year, my dad disowned me during that time. But after a year I asked if I could come home. He agreed, took me with them on a trip to Europe, mom still drinking heavily, I was my Dad's companion every night. I had fun with my dad, he treated me as an equal, always with respect but it made my mom even more resentful of me. When we returned home my dad got me an apartment by myself and I would either be in school or working. I am going to stop my story here because I've already taken up too much of your time. But that was what it was like for me. There's much more to my story and maybe I'll write it all down at some point. Thank you for listening.

Expand full comment

Hi Sally,

Thank you so much for sharing your deeply personal story with me. I’m truly honored that my article resonated with you and illuminated some of the experiences you’ve been through. It’s clear that you’ve endured so much, from the emotional challenges of adoption to the complex dynamics with your adoptive parents. Your strength shines through, even in the face of such difficult circumstances.

I wholeheartedly agree that unprocessed grief plays a significant role in how adoptees carry the weight of our experiences, and I’m glad you’re considering ways to explore and heal that grief. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever feel ready for the grief recovery workshop. Sending you strength and care and so much love! You aren't alone! <3 - xoxo PK

Expand full comment

Thank you for reaching out, Pam! I so appreciate your understanding and kind words! We all need each other to travel our healing journeys! So again, thank you!

Expand full comment

One last thing...I would really like to do your grief recovery workshop, Pamela, but am now disabled and live on a small social security check. If I can somehow save enough I will sign up. Ive had years of therapy and different diagnosis along the way but truly believe that it's the unprocessed grief that is at the root of it all. I will continue to follow you and read the recommendations you have provided. Thanks again for everything.

Expand full comment

Thank You, Pam.

Great Article, You nailed this one.

We idealize LOVE as a result, opening us up to a world of exploitation.

Expand full comment

Thank you, Herold!

I really appreciate your kind words. You’re absolutely right—idealizing love can make adoptees vulnerable to exploitation, masking the deeper issues we face. It's crucial we start having these honest conversations and stop using love as a blanket solution.

Thanks for your support and for being part of this dialogue! xo PK

Expand full comment

So well written and helps me put words and understanding to my own experience. It's not too long ago I questioned myself about what love means to me. The answer was not a good one since as a child anyone who ever said they loved me never let me be my authentic self. They manipulated and hurt me both intentionally and not. I was never truly seen. As an adult love to me means being seen and accepted as I am. That includes love toward my self, which I have been learning to do.

Expand full comment

Hi Saige,

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and your own journey. I'm deeply moved by what you’ve expressed, and I can relate to the struggle of redefining what love means after such painful experiences. It’s so powerful that you've come to see love as being seen and accepted for who you truly are.

That self-love you're learning is such a beautiful, vital piece of the adoptee healing process. I’m honored that my words resonated with you, and I hope you continue to embrace your authenticity and find love that reflects the acceptance you deserve. 🩵 xoxo pk

Expand full comment

I've written in my blog about my experience being told "Your mother loved you so much she gave you away." It's kind of a crazy concept!!! What does that teach us? That love equals abandonment or disconnection? I've found myself loving people who I can't have or can't be there for me. I think recognizing that fact has helped me to pick partners who are better suited for my needs now, but it's difficult. I find myself grieving for love I couldn't have in more ways than just my adoption. Maybe instead of grieving the losses associated with my adoption. I was so disconnected from the fact that I experienced any loss through my adoption, that I didn't even feel it. I still struggle to recognize my feelings.

Expand full comment

Hi Tiffany,

Thank you for sharing that. I can definitely relate to the confusion and pain of being told something like, "Your mother loved you so much she gave you away." It really does create this warped idea of love, doesn't it? It’s such a disorienting concept, and I think you're absolutely right in pointing out how it shapes our understanding of love and connection in all relationships.

I also find that recognizing those patterns, especially in choosing partners, is so powerful. It’s hard work to shift away from loving people who aren’t emotionally available or who can’t be there in the ways we need, but it’s a huge step in healing. I totally get what you mean about grieving for love in different areas, not just through adoption. That deep disconnect from the loss in adoption can be so tricky to untangle, and I admire you for being able to see how it's impacted more than just that one part of your life.

It’s tough when you struggle to fully recognize or feel your emotions—so many of us as adoptees go through that, feeling like we’re on the outside of our own feelings. It’s an ongoing process, but I think just acknowledging that is a big step forward. You are not alone! 🩵

Expand full comment