hole in the Sky II

“Not to know is bad; not to wish to know is worse” Nigerian Proverb

So, I think that I realize part of why I get such strong reactions when I express my anger, hurt, pain, frustration, confusion, etc. regarding my experience as an adoptee.

When I express such “negative” or “dark” albeit natural emotions, I think my family and loved ones take it personally. Although it has nothing to do with them, it feels as though it has everything to do with them. And I can understand that, and I want to be considerate and thoughtful, in the same way that I would hope they would be considerate and thoughtful toward me.

It’s not that my family didn’t love me enough. It’s not that I don’t love my family. When I express anger or hurt, it’s not because of what they have done or haven’t done, it’s because of the loss and grief that I feel over what happened beyond anyone’s control.

But when I say something like “Whatever punk decided that being adopted is a happy story with happy endings makes me want to vomit and kick a hole in the sky” it offends my family because they think I’m saying something about them.

For the record, then, I’m not saying anything about my family. I am grateful for them, and I love them.

The thing is that some wounds run so deeply and so pervasively, that they may never quite heal. And I need to feel safe enough and have freedom enough to feel the pain and the emotion that comes from feeling that pain.

If someone breaks an arm or gets a big gash in the head or has to undergo bypass surgery, you don’t condemn them for feeling a mixture of emotion. The person will feel everything from fear to anger to hope to gratitude. One emotion is neither wrong nor right. It just IS.

I often feel condemned or judged when I express the “darker” emotions that come with being adopted.

People only want to focus on the “happy” side. They feel offended and perturbed when I take the liberty to talk about the sadness and confusion, the anger and the hurt, the misunderstandings and presumptions.

When I say adoption is COMPLEX, this means it includes ALL of the range of emotions from happiness and gratitude to sadness and anger. And hence, I should be allowed to experience and work through each and every one. I don’t enjoy feeling hurt or sad or angry, but being shut down or shut out for feeling such emotions makes me feel condemned, trapped, judged, rejected. It perpetuates the notion that I’m only allowed to be happy and full of gratitude.

I can be happy and full of gratitude while also feeling deep grief and a sense of confusion. That’s exactly what makes the adoptee experience COMPLEX and hard for others to understand. It’s not a one-dimensional or even two-dimensional emotional journey. It’s multi-dimensional.

It’s hard for people to understand that an adoptee can feel a vortex of mixed emotions all in the same moment or over a period of time.

Well, I’m here to explain, that yes, we can feel more than one thing at the same time. I can feel deep love and gratitude for my family here while simultaneously feeling a deep sense of grief and sadness over having lost all connection with my biological family.

* * *

When a wife loses her husband, it is understood that the grief and loss will always be a part of her life. She may go on to remarry and live very happily and fully with another man, but the fact that she married again does not erase the loss and grief from losing her first husband. The loss is always there. And an unwillingness to acknowledge such seems cruel and uncompassionate.

The same emotion and thinking applies to losing a parent. When the parent is lost, the suffering and pain is intense and deep. No one ever expects the child to “get over” the loss. It remains. The child learns to live and learns to carry on the memory of the lost parent in productive ways but nothing ever “cures” the child of the loss and nor should anyone expect such. Again, to place such expectations on someone who has lost a parent seems cruel and heartless.

I’ve witnessed my own Mom get teary-eyed over her mother. Certain memories or instances trigger deep emotions in my Mom even today, although it has been over three decades since she lost her mother. Do people tell her she should just be grateful that she had a mom and that she should pull it together? NO, they understand the emotional process that comes with losing a parent. They have compassion, because they understand that a loss like that is deep and lasting.

Or in the horrific instance of a parent who has lost a child—again, the world seems to understand how to show compassion and patience with such tragic circumstances.

But when it comes to the loss and grief experienced by an adoptee, the world glazes over, and becomes hard and cold. It tells the adoptee to be grateful and to be quiet.

This seems unkind and narrow-minded.

Not only have adoptees experienced an incredible loss akin to losing a spouse or child or parent, but they also often have no way to heal or find any amount of resolution because all the pieces are missing. (Take for example, a wife whose husband is reported as MIA. Imagine the confusion and all the emotion she would face—trying to figure out how to move on but never really knowing what had happened or whether he is still alive. The lack of resolution, the unknown and the stress of not knowing…But then say, she remarries and tries to live on, until one day, all of a sudden, he is found and returns…What to do then?). Some might feel frustrated with me using such an analogy, but it’s the closest thing I can find to try to help others understand the EMOTION of what an adoptee like myself experiences.

Why is this so hard to grasp? Why does the world resist accepting this? And why am I condemned for wanting to know what happened and then experiencing a range of emotions as I find out the truth. Am I a bad, ungrateful person for wanting to know the truth? For wanting answers? No one would say that to the wife whose husband is MIA.

* * *

It seems that perhaps a part of the resistance to acknowledging the “difficult” side to adoption are the implications that some may assume, even if inaccurately.

Basically, what it comes down to is that the adoptee’s receiving of a new family does not magically sweep away all the wounds and hurt and loss. It doesn’t fix what has been broken.

My brother seemed bothered that I stated that being adopted is not a happy story with a happy ending. He said that it has a happy ending for him because “you’re my sister.” And this is true. It makes me HAPPY that I’m his sister. It makes me HAPPY that he’s my brother. I cannot imagine my life without him. He has remained one of my best friends throughout life.

But as I explained earlier, I can feel many things at once. And feeling hurt and angry does not diminish from the love and gratitude I feel for my brother. It’s simply and complexly that I feel it ALL.

It is as though I am pulled in several directions all at once. And it's maddening.

But this is hard for others to understand. How can I feel both angry and grateful at the same time? That’s the COMPLEX nature of being adopted. I have both lost and gained. I feel seemingly contradictory emotions at the same time because I am going through seemingly contradictory circumstances simultaneously.

It’s comparable to what I felt after our recent car accident. As we sat there in the car waiting for the ambulances, I felt a host of emotions all at once. I felt afraid but grateful. I felt angry yet compassionate. I wanted to cry and laugh all in one breath. That makes perfect sense to most people.

So, why can’t it be that I feel a host of emotions all at once when it comes to the LIFETIME experience and journey of being adopted?

* * *

And that leads me to another point I’d like to make. There is another assumption or misconception that I’d like to address briefly: the journey of an adoptee has an end. That’s another reason I said what I said at the end of the post previous to this. Although there are happy experiences that occur, being adopted is a lifetime journey filled with ups and downs. The only point at which it comes to an end is death. But until that time, an adoptee’s story doesn’t come to an ending at a certain point or age. It continues on until the grave is met.

A good book to read, if this is hard for you to understand is “Being Adopted: The Lifelong Search for Self.” (There is a direct link to it on my blog under “More Blogs & Resources”). Although I don’t necessarily agree with every word in the book, the overall theme of the book recognizes that the adoptee experience stretches through a lifetime, and does not end in adulthood.

It is very difficult for me when people assume that now that my biological family has emerged, I then, also have arrived. That all is well that has ended well.

But that’s the thing. It hasn’t ended. It has just begun, AGAIN. A new phase, a new chapter, whatever you want to call it. This is just a different phase in the journey that is a lifetime one.

And again, there are HAPPY things that have happened, and again, it makes me very HAPPY to have the family that I have—my Mom, Dad, and my three brothers. They ARE my FAMILY. And I’m not looking to change that.

But just as much as there are happy times, there are equally sad times and confusing times. Is that so bizarre? Is that so wrong?

The emotions that I experience in response to this convoluted and intertwining process must be allowed to emerge. They’re natural and normal for such circumstances. And they’re not a personal attack on anyone in my family. They’re just the natural outpouring of emotion that comes with the journey that I’m on.

It’s not anger toward my family that I feel. It’s anger regarding the circumstances and all the confusion and lack of understanding, all the hurt and pain, all the loss and lost time. It’s so many things.

And I get the feeling it will never really make sense to anyone, other than the few who choose to want to know.