LOST ADOPTEES

My life with my adopted parents was tortuous and I hated every minute of it. I even tried running away several times. This started at 2 years of age and continued until I could get out. The family that raised me had had a lot of money and influence in their community. They always liked to throw in my face that I was adopted, and cost them a lot of money to get. They said "I should feel lucky."

I was subjected to a lot of horrible abuse like mental, physical and sexual. I remember feeling lost and alone all the time. I felt unloved and unwanted. I always knew that my mom was out there, somewhere, and wanted me back. I felt a connection very strong to her at all times. Whenever I questioned my adopted parents about my mom they lied to me and told horrible stories about her. Each time I asked their story changed so I knew they were all lies. I felt tortured inside not knowing who I really was. It was a terrible feeling that never went away until Thanksgiving 1991.

I knew I was adopted through the Catholic Social Services, I also knew that I was triggered by certain things even as simple as a flashing light, clowns, and ragedy anns. But I also knew there was protective sounds that drew me to them like trains and owls. I was determined to find my mom and family if it took the rest of my life. I was tired of looking in the faces of people walking down the street and wondering if this person or that person was blood related and I would never know it. I looked in so many womens faces and wondered if that was my mom.

I luckily thanks a lot to my oldest daughter got my first phone call from my mom on Thanksgiving 1991. It was the happiest time of my life. Then we got to meet and it was so natural and so loving I look back on that day and realize my life started at that point. We discovered the feelings about the owls and the trains was a connection. There were so many similarities in the way I did things that was exactly the same as she does them. I knew why I did some of the things the way I did. I knew that who I was, was because of who I came from.

One of the first things I asked my mom was simply "What is my name?" My first thought was, That is who I am and who I am going to be. My name was mine and now it is all anyone knows me by.

SEARCHING IS THE START TO FINDING , HEALING AND ANSWERING THE QUESTIONS THAT COME FROM INSIDE

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Email: mjdefrees@c-magic.com