Yes I’m adopted. It’s hard to tell when looking at my family. I look vaguely like my dad, same coloring, same generic features. I don’t look too much like my mom. But I am adopted. I have known since I was young and it has never been a big part of my life. It was part of my story but it was not THE story.
In school, I had to do the generic genealogy project. I prefaced it with “I am adopted but this is my family.” I told my class about my family back to Tsarist Russia on my mom’s side and to the potato famine on my dad’s side. I was proud of the project and no one told me this wasn’t my family. No one in my family has ever introduced me as “the adopted one.”
I turned 18 and my parents offered to help me find my bio parents. I thought about it and decided I didn’t want to. And life continued on.
I graduated high school, got into college, dated, fell in love.
I was about to start my senior year of college, I was so excited. Then I got the phone call that changed my life and not for the better. It was a stranger who referred to herself as a “search angel.” I’ll call her Beth. Beth said my “real” mom was looking for me and it would be her pleasure to reunite us and make my family complete. I told Beth my family was complete but I would think about it. I never got the chance because Beth gave my contact information to my bio mom who contacted me on Facebook. Fine, I’ll be nice.
I chatted with this woman, this stranger, who told me basically that she was miserable and she knew there was something missing in my life. Uh, no. There isn’t. There never was. I referred to her by her first name, she responded “I AM YOUR MOTHER! !!” Uh, no you’re not. She told me she could fill the hole in my life. That holding me in her arms would heal her heart. That because she is my mother, I owe her a meeting. Her whole family wanted to meet me, I owed them. She wanted to know what weekend I could go to her home.
Listen, first, she is not my mother. She is the woman who gave birth to me. I have a mother and she is wonderful. I’m not damaged, I don’t have this gaping need. I wasn’t angry about being adopted until now.
Because now I’ve had all choice taken away. I have had to close my Facebook page because of her. She was instant messaging me numerous times a day. She called me selfish and ungrateful because I wouldn’t accept her friend request. I won’t start a new page because I know some search “angel” will just give her it.
I have changed my cell phone number because she started calling it. She knows where I go to college and I live in fear she’s going to show up at graduation. I’m even wondering if I should transfer, which will set graduation back a year.
I did my research and looked into what birth mother’s are thinking, feeling…found a wonderful blog called First Mother Forum. Most of the ladies there are great. And of course there was a search “angel” who responded that this stranger was my mother, she was not harassing me and I just had to stop behaving like a petulant child and stop slamming doors.
I did not want to be found. I wish I could disappear. I wish she would leave me alone. I don’t owe her a damn thing. She doesn’t owe me a damn thing.
She is a stranger. She has issues. And she is NOT my mother