Hi, there I am Fiona I’m an adoptee. I was adopted at 8 months old after being in two different foster placements and 2 hospital stays. I have my great-niece from the family I was adopted from on a Special Guardianship Order. Unusual I know but it’s working well.
The anger just got bigger!
Anger Gets Big – Aged Nine
Adopted, who are you calling adopted? I’m not angry, I’m fuming!
How does he know that I am adopted? I’m not supposed to tell anyone.
It certainly wasn’t me that let that cat out of the bag.
He’s looking right at me, I know you’re adopted because I am too.
He gets a huge shove right in the chest, he’s caught off guard and falls backwards.
I start running, he’s bigger than me and a boy. I’m done for.
I’m nearly home, out of puff. I stop and turn to see where he is.
He’s right behind me with a stone in his hand.
Whack! The stone slammed into my forehead, hard. It hurt.
My head did a weird thing, it started singing inside.
I crumpled to the grass, hand on my head, the noise was getting louder.
There was blood on my hand, and now on the grass. Why did I push him?
It was anger that did that. I did not want to be called adopted by someone else.
It was bad enough that my Mum said it all the time. You know we love you.
Your chosen, Special, adopted. Aaaaargh, stop saying it. I don’t want to know.
Everything went black and the singing stopped.
Come on now, Come on, your okay, wake up. Dad’s here.
I’m in my house, on my couch and the singing is not in my head anymore.
What happened to you? my Dad said, Tears and tears come flooding out as I relay the whole story.
I don’t want to be like him Dad, I don’t want to be adopted anymore.
It caused a bit of a stir in the village the whole sorry event.
Our family and theirs had a big meet-up. Their three children were all adopted.
Well, at least they were all the same I thought. I wondered what they thought.
My Mum and their Mum thought it might be good if we all knew we were all the same.
It wasn’t good for me. It may have been good for them. I don’t know.
The other boy started dressing up as a girl. The stone-throwing boy went real bad.
We all steered clear of him, after that. My anger was growing.
The least little thing brought on the rage.
Angry child – Angry adult.
I have often wondered why as a child I was expected to understand all of the emotions surrounding being told I was adopted. Children have a difficult time navigating life never mind navigating life-changing news like that at whatever age they tend to take it in. I had a list of child angry.
1) I was angry I was adopted.
2) I was angry that someone didn’t want me.
3) I was angry that she kept my sister?
4) I was angry that I wasn’t like my brother and sister.
5) I was angry because I couldn’t explain why I was doing crazy things or explain why I was angry!
I have a shorter list of adult angry.
1) Angry I missed meeting my bio Dad.
2) Angry that even today schools and social workers struggle to acknowledge that adopted children are struggling with their news.
To lighten this up a bit after all that angry. I have to say that I am so very grateful that I had such amazing adoptive parents who could so easily have given up on me. They didn’t have an easy time with me at all. I did work through the child angry stuff and work hard with other people to help them where they struggle with their anger. I am on a mission to help adoptees where I can in working through some of the feelings we get.
Have to say here as well that not all adoptees have these struggles but I did and so many more that I know do.
Thank you for reading my blogging journey so far. Next Monday I will be sharing on My little Georgie.