Prove Her Wrong » adoption stories

Going To College

shopaholic7503 — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 23:56:05 +0000

As a teenager at home, I wasn’t happy but outside of it, I guess I was. I was never in bad company. I had good friends. I was popular in highschool and my teachers loved me. They became my family although they never knew it. Time came when I had to go away for college. I was excited because of the sense of freedom but also scared because it was the first time for me to be away from home.

The first year of college, I had to live with some relatives who treated me much the same as my mother did. The thing when you’re adopted is that, people don’t always have to tell you but they always make sure that you feel that you’re really not part of them. I always tell myself that I should not let other people affect me. They should not stop me from doing what I’m supposed to do with my life and that being adopted is something not to be ashamed of.

And so, I lived a new life in college. I gained more friends and became more honest with myself. I knew I still had a lot to learn and I still am not finished with my battles but I am never going to give up.

Enemies

shopaholic7503 — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 23:36:37 +0000

“You have enemies? Good. That means you stood up for something, sometime in your life.” I read this somewhere. My mother was never my enemy. She was just always a symbol to me of sadness, fear and anger. Sadness, Fear, and Anger..they were my enemies. I wanted to save her but I couldn’t because she wanted to wallow in those feelings and took it out on me. I resolved I wouldn’t be like her. I would be the opposite when I grew up and had my own family. Some people stand up for something at a point in their lives but I have stood up for what I believed in all the 19 years I stayed with my mother and siblings. It was a constant battle of beliefs.

I made enemies in my life because of her. Though I didn’t want to be like her, in my heart I always wanted to please her and a point came when I had to hurt other people just to please her. There was a longing to be accepted and loved even if I knew it was never going to happen. I had never heard her say “I love you” either to me or my siblings or not even to my father when he was alive. She showed her love to my siblings by pushing them to be the best in school. I pushed myself to be the best so she would love me but that never worked.

Looking back now, perhaps she did love me in her own way…but whatever way that was, I never understood when I was young.

In my teens

shopaholic7503 — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 13:11:33 +0000

A few years had gone by since my father’s death and we had all moved on. My teen life was normal on the outside. I was still feisty with my mom when I thought I had to defend myself but outside of the house, I was liked by everyone I knew. Although, I was a disturbed child, I wasn’t the kind who would resort to drugs or drinking. I never tried that, not even smoking and I never ran away from home. I had a goal in mind. I had to stay and finish my studies. The only way I could finish my studies was to bear my mother’s angst and I knew that I was tough enough to bear it.

I remember a time when I loved her so much. I worried about her and prayed for her but somehow that love slowly faded because of the wall between us. There was so much hurt. My mother became violent at times and would hurt me because I reasoned out. Once she cut off a portion of my hair. Another time she pushed me off the stairs. I also remember a time when she tore my clothes and tried to push me out of the door.What hurt me more was when she and my siblings shouted to my face that I was adopted like it was a crime and I resented that so much.I also resented the fact that she didn’t want to work for us but just wanted to depend on social services for help and my grandfather’s support. A child imprints traumatic memories on their minds.

I’m not going to say that she hurt me even if I did nothing. I was very opinionated, perhaps as a defense and she couldn’t take it. I’m also not going to make my mom look like she was a monster because was not. We just didn’t get along like two people going in different directions.

My mom would tell other people how bad I was and I never cared because I knew in my heart that I wasn’t. And that was how we grew further apart…because we believed in different things and all these things shaped me into what I have become now. As I grew older, I realized more and more that she was a victim as I was of circumstances in our lives.