Disposable

I do not speak for all adopted persons. There are so many different situations a child may go through that result in their being adopted into a family not biologically theirs. I say this to say that my feelings/emotions/world views are not necessarily those of all adopted children. Today I am writing about being disposable. I believe this to be a fundamental piece in the psyche of many adopted kids. It's the feeling that no matter how good it seems to be, how close you are to your new mother, how entrechened you seem to be, you are just a tree with very shallow roots. At any point, whether you are five, fifteen or twenty five, you could be disposed of. You see, I was "disposed" of as a young child. And if my big brown eyes begging for love and care weren't enough to warrant love and care, if they did not protect me from being disposed of, then nothing I posess now can save me from the eventuality of being tossed aside, deemed unessasary and perhaps maybe even a mistake.

These are the thoughts that subconsciously run through my head. I do not live my life according to them. I try to form very real, very deep relationships in spite of the fact that I am scared of the outcome. But still, the feelings and thoughts are there. How I wish with all my heart that they were not. How I wish that I had been born into the family I'm now a part of. I ask God "why not?" Why not save me the hellish years of my childhood if I was eventually going to be a part of this loving family?

Sometimes I think that when it's all said and done, I will have been a phase in my family's life. Something they did once, out of compassion. A temporary time in my mother's life. These are harsh things to say. Much harsher things to feel. I fight with these innermost thoughts, trying desperately to kill them and be "normal." Again, I say all this to help people understand. I feel both privelaged and mandated to write these words. As if so many children in the same situation have no voice, and I should speak up. I do not wish to be the face of adoption, the one that speaks for all of us. I only hope to reach a parent at their wits end trying to figure out their adopted child. Or a child wondering if they are crazy, or another adult adoptee, who perhaps has never been able to put to words the feelings we feel. I know we can be successful. We can love our children, be good parents and good spouses. We can love God and even love ourselves to the best of our ability. What we cannot do is pretend these feelings don't exist. That gives them power, for when we least expect it they will flood our head with negativity and power they do not deserve. My prayer is that as I so publicy speak these thoughts and feelings, I will continue to win my battle with them. I am taking their power away. It is not until you recognize a problem that you can begin to fix it. I am fixing myself. With God's help, I am going to beat these thoughts. I just know it.

Now I must go cook dinner for my husband and two kids (a great joy to me).