Trigger warning: This post contains a brief reference to physical abuse as a child and may be triggered by some readers.
“People who try to make everyone happy often feel lonely.” ~Unknown
It’s Christmas morning. I am 7 years old. I sit with my sister on a hardwood floor, surrounded by crumpled wrapping paper in a nightgown. I grab the next present and open it. I tear the paper. This is a ballerina outfit with a pink leotard, tutu and pale pink tights.
As soon as I thanked my adopted parents, I leave the room with a new gift and hide it behind me. I reached the bedroom upstairs, stood in front of the mirror, rushed to take it out of the package and put on, and struggled to cooperate with the various fabrics.
When I finally get it in my body, I go back downstairs with a big smile, terrified and excited everyone, and maybe even get a laugh. My heart races with excitement. I’m going to the living room. My adopted parents are looking at me. I scan their faces and smile. A smile won’t come.
“What the hell did you do? You’re not going to wear it yet!” cried Mom.
My heart is beating loudly. Why are they angry? I can’t understand the average words my parents are throwing at me. Dad gets up from his chair and attacks me. When he was finished, my face was hot and my hair was messy. I hang my head upstairs and go back to the bedroom, put on my outfits and swap them. I look in my mirror. “I’m so stupid,” I think. You will never misunderstand it again.
I was taken from someone born 10 months old and placed with a foster parent who abused me.
Adopters will become adaptation experts without the abuse of adoptive parents. We know that our family arrangements came because our birth parents were not standing up for the job of embracing us. Children only point inwards, so the reason doesn’t matter. Beneath the surface, many adopters have unconscious beliefs that sound like this.
“I’m not loved for bad things, so I wasn’t worth keeping for the first time. If my adopted parents become the ones who want to be me, I’ll prevent them from being abandoned again.”
Therefore, adoption learns to bend and change, taking care not to cause disappointment or anger from the adopted parents. For example, I had no dream of becoming a dancer as a child. I had never taken a ballet class or expressed my interest in it. So when I opened that costume on Christmas morning, I saw it as a clue. My enthusiasm to be a show pony in ballet costumes was an instinctive response, as it meant getting a higher approval rating from scary adoptive parents. But obviously I read it all wrong.
This life-saving adaptation skill permeates any relationship that poses the risk of leaving the adopter hurtful heart. It can be so broad that by the time the adopters entered an adult, they had little experience exploring their own needs, desires, or desires.
My husband and I gave our daughter a “Yes Day” a few years ago. So she made a list of fun toys. Among the specific parameters, I had to say yes. This included her choosing our outfit that day, a trip to Dave and the Basterds, a stupid string fight, a speciality chocolate design at the Goo Goo Cluster Shop in downtown, and a candy buffet for dinner. My husband and I rejoiced in her joy that day.
Later, when my daughter asked, “Mom, what would you like to do if there’s a ‘Yes Day’? ”
I felt my heart burn and realized I couldn’t answer her. And when the idea comes in such a way as to watch a concert or eat at a particular restaurant, I know I feel guilty about asking the rest of my family to join me because it’s not theirs. The inability to tell my children what I love was a powerful moment of education and a call for change.
I started treatment in my early 30s. It resolved a thick layer of trauma and loss and created this barrier between my true self and ME, who worked out of fear of abandonment. Traditional talk therapy with therapists who specialize in trauma, EMDR, EEG neurofeedback, and accelerated resolution therapy slowly removed that barrier. With every victory I feel more about myself and more at ease in the world.
Resolving trauma will eliminate shame. For me, shame prevented me from knowing myself and prevented me from focusing solely on the happiness of those around me, for fear of being left or in danger if I fail.
Loneliness is the result of being a chameleon who she is. If people don’t allow me to accept the real me, how can I expect a real connection? As a disappointing person, I chose to relate to people who reflected my low self-worth in me. Can we expect genuine connections to such a relationship?
A genuine relationship is the natural consequence of dispelling shame. Being seen, loved and accepted for our true selves is an antidote to loneliness.
For those who turn around to keep their connections with people they care about, “If I had Jesus’ Day, how would I use it? Will the people in my life care enough about me and please my joy?”
If that question feels uncomfortable, if the person who comes to mind moans, flakes, or dismisses, I will meet you. I was there. However, healing begins with making you imagine something different. Imagine being surrounded by people who celebrate and cherish the real you. Imagine feeling that way of being loved.
Because such love is possible and you deserve it.
About Kelly Jean Torres
Kelly Jean Torres is an author, essayist and singer/songwriter in Nashville, Tennessee. Her book, Saving the Lost Girl: A Memoir of Healing, was released in April this year. For more information, please visit her website: https://kellyjeantorres.co/
