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Childhood Who Am I?

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GWhizz

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I don't know if I'm posting in the correct section so admins pls move if somewhere more suitable.

I've always had a feeling of never belonging, low identity and failure to fit in with my family as I child.

I was the outcast and the subject of most of their abuse. And by outcast I mean, I am fair-skinned, with auburn hair, tall, arty.. My relatives are all short, dark haired with dark-skin, glasses, completely different physiques and interests. In fact, I was always asked if I were adopted.

With my old T this came up. When I mentioned a quote from my father - that I must pay for 'the sins of your father', she asked if maybe my mother had had an affair and so he was not my biological father. I told her my mother wasn't like that - she idolized my father, put him before everyone and lived in a messed up fear-awe of him.

But I just figured something out now recently, something I never really wanted to investigate but now I know whether I like it or not. I'm blood type B. My mother is A and father O. This would mean that either one of them is not my biological parent or that both of them aren't. It's actually something I was aware of for a while but never even bothered thinking about until I was discussing bloodgroups with a colleague recently, when we were taking one another's bloods in work out of boredom!

But it seems so outlandish to even comprehend. I don't know where to go with this. It's just making me very angry. My whole beginnings were so f'd up by these people. And now I live day-to-day in the aftermath of it all. And it's not like this changes anything either - it only adds to the disappointment that my life is just one big screw up.

I have only been seeing my new T less than a couple of months now - I don't feel ready to discuss this with her. But I honestly feel I'm at breaking point. My partner is away all weekend and I cannot sleep at all when alone. I'm so exhausted. I feel like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world for a while. Only my little boy needs me.

To top it off, I have to go to a baby shower now for a friend who is due the same time I would have been, had I not miscarried. Thinking it's better to get out than sit here self-pitying all day.

Feeling very hard done by right now.
 
@GWhizz your life was affected by their actions, not the other way around. You are not a screw up. If anything, perhaps it does give you a window of explanation of why their behaviour was what it was. Not condoning it I mean, but yours is the opposite, their's was secrets & lies & abuse, you are doing the opposite. So blood-related to one of them or not, you are living in every way differently.

Hugs for you, xox. :hug:
 
You know @GWhizz , you are right, re the blood type. Perhaps knowing that about your blood type is a huge gift, not a negative. But a gigantic revelation. Much to process, even if you haven't allowed yourself to do so before as regards it.

I understand exactly what you mean about 'knowing', but the mind not allowing things to sink in further, or not allowing the proper degree of importance (critical-ness) to be assigned to it.

:hug:
 
I don't know if this will make you feel any better at all, but here I go.

While I think it is the best thing to tell children who their biological parents are, whoever that may be (stranger, distant relative, close relative, one rearing parent plus unknown stanger, etc.), I will say that I knew I was adopted since I was super duper young, and my brother (primary abuser) was adopted, and I knew that my sister was the biological offspring of the parents who raised me. However, I still felt extremely out-of-place growing up, and sometimes my parents would say nonsensical things when I was very young (my father used to always tell me I got my blue eyes from his father, even though I knew I was adopted), and I didn't put together my feelings of otherness with being adopted until I was fourteen. Even then, it didn't really sink in until I met my biological siblings and filled in some blanks, not to mention finally seeing people who were without a doubt my genetic counterparts.

I'm sorry you're going through this. Are either of your parents alive? I thought I would care about the truth of my beginnings, but it turned out I cared enough to confront my dickwad biological father about it. He lied to me. I intend to see him again, confront him in person (I confronted him over the phone, before I met him in person, during which my symptoms were ablaze), and demand the truth before he takes it to his grave. My biological mother is dead and can't speak for herself. I have a half brother who was about 10 when I was born, but it seems he doesn't remember anything, or he's holding out on the rest of us. My adoptive parents told me the truth as they understood it, and I believe them, but I want it from the horse's mouth.

Previously, I was completely against prying into this subject whatsoever, and growing up, I never wanted to know anything about my biological family. Now, though, my relationship with my biological family has shone a light on a lot for me, and it's important to me that I find out as much as I can without putting my health at serious risk to do so.

Sorry for the long personal rant. I can't really imagine what it would be like to not know that I was adopted. I have a friend now whose in-laws adopted the son of one of their kids (so, their grandchild), and the poor kid has no idea. It's hard to watch. There are a million factors that make the situation worse, and if he knew the truth, I think he would be less lost at sea.

I know of several other adults and children who didn't know they were adopted, but I don't know them intimately, so I don't have a lot of insight on that perspective. I'm glad you're posting about this. I hope that you feel a bit freer to embrce your very own identity.

When I was a kid, I used to tell myself I wasn't born from anyone. I made up a story that I was spat out of the stars. It comforted me, because it freed me from the genetic burdens of belonging to anyone at all. I don't know if that makes sense or sounds silly or is just out of left field and has no business belonging in your thread, but there you have it.

[/wordvomit]
 
@Simply Simon yes they are still alive - in their early 50's. Thank you for sharing your story.

The thing is, I don't know if either of them are my parents - I mean I bear no connection or relation to either of them in anyway. But thinking that I could have been mixed up at birth or something sounds far too fantastical. And I know I was definitely not legitimately adopted - my parents would never have been approved that (father has schizophrenia and they were unemployed etc).

Anyway, finding out further isn't really important to me right now. If I did have another parent out there it would again cause disappointment. Disappointment that I can't find them, or if I did that they'd reject me as my parents did all along, or that I'd learn what I missed out on and can never get back.

Having my own child makes it harder. I don't know what to tell him as he gets older.

I went to the baby shower briefly which was actually nice. They were all admiring my little boy and my friend's mum told me I'm a natural mother. That nearly broke my heart - I really wish I had a family like the one I met today. One my son could be a part of. He misses out so much because of my losses.

I feel like I'll always be doomed or something because, no matter what, I have no family or solid past. It means I have no fallback.
 
I was wondering if your parents were alive to figure out if you had the option of just asking them about it.

I think that the family you have is the family that raised you. I don't know your story, so maybe they suck and aren't there for you anyway. Either way, I'm not sure that this revelation changes much in that department, considering you're in the same situation you were in, you just know more about the likelihood that you and the people who raised you are genetically similar.

For better or for worse, the parents who raised me are my parents. I will refer to my biological father and late biological mother as that--father and mother--but it is mostly meaningless to me. I just find it exhausting to constantly preface it with "biological," so I try to cut that out if the context makes it clear. Whether or not the people who raised me were good or bad for me, they were there in some form when I was growing up, and so I accept that this quality makes them my parents.

I discovered my biological family at the same time a college peer found hers. We found a similar narrative; one parent wanted to keep us, the other wanted to sell us, the latter won the argument. It wasn't really as cut and dry as I suspected it would be. I had always assumed it was a teen pregnancy or at least that it was an entirely unwelcome surprise. It wasn't that simple. It was complicated, which is the way life tends to be. My college friend even has a twin. I have an Irish twin, 11 months my junior. These are things we just never would have thought could be possibilities. She also assumed her mother had been a pregnant teen. But both of us had several older siblings and became an issue of one more mouth to feed.

I found out I had siblings about a year before they reached out to me. My (adoptive) sister let it slip while we were eating out for dinner one night. She couldn't remember how many I had, but she knew I had a brother who was two when I was born. I was thrilled, then I was horrified. My (adoptive) brother was my primary abuser, and he was just a horrible person. The instant she said I had a (different) brother, I imagined a perfect brother. Then, the instant later, I imagined I another horrible brother. The next instant, I imagined a perfect brother who would be shocked and disgusted that I existed. This went on and on.

It turns out that the brother she was talking about actually is not a perfect brother, but he's pretty damned close. I'm lucky I got the opportunity to make all the what-ifs go away, even if our communication is spotty at best.

I think what I'm trying to say is that sometimes our imaginations run away from us. It can be exhausting. I've decided that the truth, however I can come by it, is at least less exhausting than my imagination, regardless of whether the truth is prettier or uglier than I'd thought.
 
I feel like I'll always be doomed or something because, no matter what, I have no family or solid past. It means I have no fallback.

I understand this intensely. I have been on my own since very early on and I know so little about my FOO its creepy. I learned long after my mothers death was her maiden name was and where she was born.

I also learned things like I had an older brother I have never known, I look nothing like my FOO except for my brother, my origins as such a sick hot mess who knows what the back story really is. They are all dead now and when people say "Oh I feel so alone"..it makes my stomach clench because they have no clue what it is like to REALLY have no safety line and not know a single person/family in the world.

I could go on and on but none of it matters. I am alone, have been most of my life.

So I put up a smile and pretended it didn't matter but it does. I'm learning late in life to take care of myself....stand strong for the things I need in life and yes, my beginning makes these things all the more important, and I'm not apologizing for it anymore nor acting tough and pretending I don't need those things.

figure out what those things are for you....as for your child. Tell him about YOU, your dreams wishes, make traditions together, fill his life with memories, it will be all that he needs, when he's older you can discuss your experience...when the time comes be honest, I wish despite everything I had just been told some truths instead of being left with a blank screen.

Take care, Whirlwind
 
Yes I've come to the conclusion that exposure (especially early exposure) to & living with different realities has significantly impacted who or how I am, how I think, how I feel, what I believe, what fears I hold, how I view the world, people, relationships, what I live with in the present or future thoughts. Not all badly, but very differently than many people.
 
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