Sometimes I Like Being Alone Because I Don't Belong Anywhere

How Many Adoptees Are Rejected by Birth Relatives?


Just the sound of the word sends chills up my spine!

Rejection is the dark side of the search and reunion process. The agonizing side. The side that is rarely, if ever, talked about, the side media never covers.

It is also part of our adoptee “rite of passage” into a healthier, more fulfilling life. So, don’t despair, my friends, if you are experiencing this right now. You will get through it.

How many of us are rejected? Statistics, like most aspects of adoption, are sadly non-existent, but many claim that only a minority of adoptees are rejected by a birth relative at reunion. During the years I have been researching and talking with other adoptees, however, I have found rejection to be rampant and common.

Why do birth relatives reject some of us? Does our physical appearance remind our birth mothers of our fathers, whom they have no positive feelings for? Does seeing us trigger issues in them that they have never dealt with? Are they emotionally and mentally unbalanced? Or are they just downright mean?

What does it mean to be rejected and how does it feel? Webster’s gives us a good start on understanding its basic message. “Refusing to have, take, or act upon. To refuse to accept a person. To rebuff. To throw away or discard as useless or unsatisfactory. To cast out or eject. Something rejected as an imperfect article.”1

Ron Nydam, Ph.D., gives a vivid illustration from a client’s encounter with his birth mother. She told her son: “If you want answers, see a psychiatrist; if you want a companion, get a dog.”2

I will never forget when I was reeling from my birth mother’s rejection. While attending my first American Adoption Congress, a man at one of the book tables asked me to tell him my story. I got to the part where I was going to say, “All I wanted was for her to say the words ‘I love you,’” and I lost it. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “It really hurts, doesn’t it?” I knew by the tone of his voice that this wasn’t some platitude—it came from his heart. This dear man took me into the lobby of the hotel and told me how he had experienced the same rejection from his birth mother years ago. Still, after all that time, he wept.

As I personally became aware of this fear of being forgotten and shared it with the adoptees in my support group, eyes welled with tears and you could have heard a pin drop.

Karen says that her birth mother rejected her “right out of the gate.” She didn’t even give Karen the dignity of getting to know her first before making up her mind. Karen was her dirty secret and she couldn’t stand the thought of others knowing. She told her that her mother (Karen’s grandmother) would also reject her. 

As Karen reflects on the rejection, she says, “She didn’t just reject me—she wanted nothing to do with my son, her own grandson! When I found her, my son wasn’t even one year old, a beautiful baby. How could she reject him? The only time I met her she reviewed pictures I had brought of him with detachment and terse comments.”

When birth siblings learn that a parent conceived an unknown child, their reaction may be to reject us as well.

Laurie’s birth half-sister found it difficult to speak with her since she was told that Laurie was her half-sister. Laurie, like Karen, was her birth mother’s secret. Laurie has tried to make contact, but her birth mother wants nothing to do with her. She is hoping that one day she will speak to her, or that at least she will eventually develop a relationship with her half-sister.

Richard Curtis says, “Even though I have not been overtly rejected by birth relatives, I have the feeling that I’m being ignored or at least overlooked by family members who just don’t know what to do with me. Both of my birth parents were deceased when I finally conducted my search and so my ‘reunions’ have been with siblings and cousins.

That being the case, after the initial shock and curiosity of discovering a secret birth relative, most members of both families have relegated me to receiving a card at Christmas or an occasional e-mail. At first I tried to take the initiative and keep in contact, especially with my siblings; but I’ve gotten little response.”

Okay, that’s enough. We know the realities of rejection. Let’s not stay there unless we are currently experiencing it.

Then, fellow adoptee hurt words are validating. But for the rest of us, let’s move on.

If we’ve received hostile responses from birth relatives, how do we usually react?


Isolation and rejection partner to silence us. We are frozen in fear and don’t want another soul to know our experience. We feel we have been branded for life.

We do need isolation from the rejecting birth relatives, but not from fellow adoptees who have had similar experiences. In their company we can find a good kind of isolation, where we experience protection, comfort, strength, validation, and healing.

As I personally became aware of this fear of being forgotten and shared it with the adoptees in my support group, eyes welled with tears and you could have heard a pin drop.

I thought about it a lot in the days to come. Aren’t we as rejected adoptees a little like prisoners of war? Aren’t we missing in action in many ways?

While studying the subject of being forgotten, I saw a poster-sized reproduction of a U.S. commemorative stamp. Two words grabbed my attention—NEVER FORGOTTEN. The poster depicted an army dog tag on a chain, inscribed with the words, “MIA and POW—NEVER FORGOTTEN.”

My husband purchased a gold ID bracelet with a chain like a dog tag. On one side I had the jeweler inscribe “Baby X.” On the other side were the words “Never forgotten.”


Again, here is it so helpful for us to take a deep breath and think about the psychological dynamic of projection. All the rejecting person can see is themselves. So, when they are saying rotten things about us, what are they really doing? They’re telling us how they feel about themselves. How freeing this is!

Let’s take some examples:

  • “I can tell you are in therapy.” (I need to be in therapy.)
  • “I knew I couldn’t trust you.” (I can’t trust myself.)
  • “You are a secret in the family.” (I have a secret I’ve kept from my family.)
  • “You remind me of your rapist birth father.” (I can’t get my rapist out of my mind.)
  • “You aren’t important to me.” (I am not important.)
  • “You are disposable.” (I am disposable.)


Of all the things I’ve learned lately about our adoptee journey, the concept of the adoptee’s rite of passage is the most exciting. Listen to this story and then we’ll draw parallels to our own experiences.

I am reminded of a story about a young American Indian man who was about to go through “the rite of passage into manhood.” Prior to this event, he was prepared to defend himself in every way. On the day of the rite, he was blindfolded and led, gun in hand, into a dark forest and left alone overnight. The blindfold remained all night.

During the night, whenever the wind blew a leaf or an animal scurried through the underbrush, he was sure it was a wild animal seeking to devour him. He was terrified. When morning dawned he removed his blindfold and saw a path leading off to his right. He thought he saw someone at the end of the path. As he contemplated the figure, he realized that it was his father, aimed and ready to shoot anything or anyone that would hurt his son.13


There is always an end to the dark night of our experience. Many of us might have believed that we’ll always be in the darkness and shame of rejection. Like our anger issues, we may easily believe:

  • “There must be something wrong with me or he/she wouldn’t reject me. This is shame.”

I bet you anything, my friend, after you’ve done all your searching and reunion “work,” that you’ll find it’s not about you. It’s about the dysfunction of the person who rejected you.

  • “Something I did or said, ‘made’ him/her/them reject me.’
    We don’t have that kind of power! No one does. We all make choices. The rejecting person’s choice was totally his/hers.
  • “I’ll never get over this hurt.”

There’s our black and white thinking. We will always have memories of the hurt, but the shame, the stinging shame, will fade in time. I promise you. Like the Indian teen, there will come a day when the sun rises and you realize you were never alone…that’s why we need one another. Those fellow-adoptee friendships are vital!


I believe as a fellow adoptee friend to you that I can speak frankly, more so than anyone else. Okay, here we go!

We Need to Get Over Ourselves

Yes, we need to quit throwing pity parties, focusing on past hurts, licking our wounds and accept a “new template” for our future life.

Rejection does NOT define us, friends.

We are amazing people. We have survived pre-adoption trauma that’s unbelievable. We are survivors…now we need to step into that role with confidence.

Think back to the Cherokee teen. Of course, many sounds, movements around him, darkness and all kind of scary stuff. But, he trusted in his inner strength, already built into him through his training by his dad, that he would come through night…strong!

That’s you, friend.

Stand strong. Stand tall. You are amazing.


We can reject our rejection and not let it define us.


  • Journal, journal, journal. Journaling provides a place for you to

pour out your innermost thoughts and feelings.

  • Describe your “adoptee rite of passage.” Where are you in the process? Draw a timeline.
  • Get a momento, like my ID bracelet, to remind you of the day you rejected the rejection(s).

The biggest “take away” for this chapter is—don’t do it alone! If you don’t know fellow-adoptee friends, contact me. I know adoptees from all over the world that support one another through the “rite of passage.”

Please be sure and enter your email address at the right hand corner so that we can stay in contact!


(This post is Chapter 18 of 20 Life-Changing Choices Adoptees Need to Make. Copyright, Jessica Kingsley Publishing). You may purchase on the “shop” page on this site.

Lessons from My Prayer Plant

What May Happen When Adoptees Practice Self-Care

Sometimes, we adopted kids of all ages need to stop the busyness and focus on self-care. For many, it’s downright challenging, for we tend to care for others besides ourselves–or should I say at the expense of ourselves. Hmmm…I believe that’s called codependency.

One of the ways I take care of myself, especially when I’ve been glued to my computer for hours, is to take a walk. Yes, as simple as it may sound, it can be downright inspiring and edifying.

Yesterday, I left the house to walk and discovered my prayer plant that I’d set outside because it looked dead. It’s lush green leaves that reached upward to the sky were totally drooped over, with leaves slumping toward the ground.

When a neighbor came by, I pointed out it’s sad state and he suggested taking it out of it’s pot to dry out.

So, I pulled the poor thing out of the pot, setting it on a nearby wagon. It seemed there was no hope, but it seemed worth a try.

That evening, it rained like crazy and the next morning I went out to see the plant, thinking it was totally wiped out by the heavy rains.

But, no!

I couldn’t believe my eyes! The leaves were reaching for the sky again, shouting, “I am alive!”

This made my day, for it reminded me of what my future holds. Someday the leaves of my body will totally droop, which is already happening. I know not the day that God will take me Home, but I do know that when my leaves are totally lifeless, He will breathe new life into me.

As a matter of fact, He does that on a daily basis.

Every morning I tell Him how I can’t handle the day alone. I cry out to Him for help, and He always hears, bringing life to my drooping leaves.

This morning, I read this from Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotional: “Help, Lord,” will suit us living and dying, suffering or laboring, rejoicing or sorrowing. In Him our help is found. let us not be slack to cry to Him. The answer to the prayer is certain, if it is sincerely offered to Him through Jesus. The Lord’s character assures us that He will not leave His people; His relationship as Father and Husband guarantee us His aid; His gift of Jesus is a pledge of every good thing/ and His sure promise stands, “Fear not, I WILL HELP THEE.”

I do believe that when we are totally spent, like my prayer plant, with all color and shape drained from our leaves, that He will miraculously bring us back to life.

So, what may happen if we adoptees practice self-care?

We may end up having close communion with the Creator of the whole earth and seas.

Link for Spurgeon’s devotional:

There is also a free online subscription:

What Happens When Circumstances Paint You Into A Corner

What the MRI of My Adoptee Heart Showed

What is it my friends, that tips the scale, reminding us that we need healing, not only from the repercussions of relinquishment but also for the need to control.

It’s not difficult to figure out why we’re control freaks. After all, from the beginning of our lives here on planet earth everything seemed out of control. We lost our first moms and dads, were placed into a new home which we didn’t think was too peachy at first, and were labeled as “different” by societal norms.

We’ve fought to have our voices heard and our original birth records legally released. And, maybe if we found that long-lost first mom, we could reverse the “out of control” feeling and erase our adoptedness for good? But, even that didn’t work, at least for me.

Repetition of Original Trauma Dynamics

For me, the tipping of the scale somewhat repeated those complex and painful dynamics of relinquishment, but in current-day life.

I was in a present-day situation I didn’t want. I prayed to get out of it, but the heat only escalated and I said, “God, this isn’t funny.”  Circumstances only closed in and I felt as if I’d been painted into a corner. Trapped and nowhere to go.

The discomfort became so intense that I would have done anything to get out of the pressing circumstances. What was happening was that….oh, no…I was being asked to give up control of things and people in my life that were key players. Key players that were hurting me.

MRI for Adopted Hearts

And, the only way I could get out of the painted corner was to forgive the people I hated for the hurts I didn’t deserve. I needed to see “the ugly” inside my adoptee heart, and if there were such a thing as a MRI for the Adopted Heart, mine would show toxic anger, hate, and bitterness.

Author Lewis Smedes says in FORGIVE AND FORGET: Healing the Hurts We Don’t Deserve: “Hate is a tiger snarling in the soul. Hate is our natural response to any deep and unfair pain. Hate is our instinctive backlash against anyone who wounds us wrongly. ”

Our Greatest Hurt

I believe for we adoptees, the greatest hurt we didn’t deserve was being separated from our first moms. We had no choice. No babies can choose where they’ll end up. And, no matter how “delightful” the adoption hand-off was, no matter if our first moms held us a few days and cried buckets of tears, no matter if we’re told it was her loving decision, our adopted hearts just don’t agree. We’re wounded with a wound deeper than death or divorce.

Thus, by staying in control with pressing current-day circumstances, we’re building walls against what will bring healing, both currently and with original trauma experiences.

Building walls keeps us in control and away from the one decision of our wills to heal, no matter the cost.

Willingness to Forgive Undeserved Hurts

What is the decision? To forgive our first moms for creating an epic loss. No, we didn’t deserve such a hurt, but we do need to climb out of the trauma crater it created in our souls.

But, what about the painted in a corner times?

In my “”painted into the corner” present-day circumstances, the dynamics of that first epic loss and relinquishment knocked at the door of forgiveness.

When I forgave the people in everyday life, God in his graciousness healed me all the way to the bottom of my hurt–the loss of my first mom.

I never knew healing was possible and I am so grateful to be enjoying healing of memories and perspectives.

And, so my conclusion is: Giving  up control is saying yes to forgiving others for the hurts we don’t deserve.


Can Adoptees Heal from the Primal Wound?

Celebrating the Scab Over Verrier’s Primal Wound

We’ve had a great time talking about Nancy Verrier’s book–the Primal Wound. Yes, hers is a valuable asset to adoption literature. For many, it was a wake-up call, a validation of not being crazy, and words to wrap around the deeper-than-death loss.

This week, as a result of our conversations here, I’ve done some studying on how wounds heal. It’s been fascinating! The word “wound” involves much.  In fact, if wounds don’t heal, amputation may be necessary. What a warning this is for those who have suffered the primal wound.

Without a doubt, adoptees, foster kids, step kids, and orphans suffer great loss when separated from the first family. The loss is cellular and we many feel a deep bond to our first family no matter how they’ve treated us.

Often, I share the story about a toddler that was put into a skillet of hot oil. When the child was taken to the hospital and the responsible mom came to visit, she threw her arms up and cried in welcoming tones, “Mama!”

Just like a near-death blow to the body, our souls bleed and gradually form a crusty blood clot, making us survivors of one of the greatest losses one can experience.

A Scab Must Form 

In order for healing to occur, a scab must form. The scab is another type of skin–akin to a crusty umbrella that protects the wound.  Let’s agree that the scab for the primal wound is anger–a God-given emotion to protect and warn that something needs attention?

This helps us conclude that anger is a good thing and oftentimes, when adopted and foster kids are shut down, it’s a sign they’re coming to life.

We must celebrate the scab.

Proper Care of the Scab Is Vital

When healing is occurring, the scab may feel itchy, but don’t itch it. If it gets pulled off, of course we’re back to square one.

It’s important to be observant of the scab’s condition. If there’s new bleeding or yellowish, pinkish fluid oozing from its sides, it’s a sign that healing will be prolonged.

Or, perhaps, it has become infected by bacteria? Perhaps the bacteria of negativism, judgmentalism, or skepticism?

The Surprise Beneath the Scab

Another function of the scab is to create such an atmosphere that new growth appears where the wound once was. And, take a guess what the new growth is called? It’s called a scar.

We will always carry the scar, but it will be a constant reminder of the fact that we are true survivors. We’ve come through the fires of abandonment and have a bright future in sight,

If you find black edges around the scab, it’s time to call the physician. In my estimation, the Great Physician is the best, for there are some things that can’t be healed by humans. The primal wound is one of them.

Fellow adoptees, is this topic not clearly “self-care?” We aren’t very good at this. Oh, yes, we care take the world (enabling) but how often to we care for ourselves?

How about breaking the cycle this summer?

Let’s determine to soothe our wounds–by rubbing cocoa butter on them, or lavender and rose oils?

Activities for the Summer

  • Think about the primal wound. What does it look like to you? Is it jagged, straight- lined like a surgical incision, crusty, or downright ugly?
  • It may be fun to make this a topic for journaling this week. Ask yourself, “What does the primal wound say to me? How can I know that a scab has formed?
  • Assess what your focus is–the wound or the scab? One looks back, the other forward.

One Adoptee’s New View of Verrier’s Primal Wound

One Adoptee’s New View of Verrier’s Primal Wound

For the last two decades in the world of adoption, Adoptees clung tenaciously to the book called The Primal Wound, by adoptive mom, Nancy Verrier.

Thank you Ms. Verrier for validation, but you’re not even an adopted person…we Adoptees are over-the-top confident that our perspectives are much different than yours.

There’s no way you could see Adoption nor life through an adopted person’s eyes. Our eyes have been shattered by loss of a much different kind.

So, respectfully, thanks, but bye.

No longer do we find comfort in the compromising status of self- validation, for a self-centered life is not how we were created.

Instead, our genetic blueprint calls us to sacredly build others up.

We want to know the  perspectives of fellow adoptees who walk the walk. Each, like refined gold, oftentimes better than therapy, a mirror, an unspoken gift to our needy souls.

How we need one another.

We are moving on now, for we see there is so.much.more than validation.

We know our struggles weren’t caused by character defects or generational curses.

Shame has drained from the dark, musty basements of our souls. We’re inhaling invigorating fresh air and feeling the sun’s warmth on our gargantuas trauma scars.

We don’t inflict self-loathing for the oftentimes contrariness of raw life…no,  we base our self worth on what Someone greater says—we are unique jewels of inestimable worth and beauty, bought with a price.

As we move on, we embrace the fact that we indeed can heal from our excruciatingly painful past.

Yes, we struggled in our chrysalis of toxic anger and trauma-ridden beliefs for decades, but we now know that we can successfully learn to fly, discover the unique colors of our wings, and zoom to unimaginable heights.

It’s not comfortable leaving you behind, Primal Wound, but we do so with the tenderest of soaring hearts.

After all, there is so.much.more.