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.

The Gift of My Adoptive Mama’s Perfume

I'd Pour Out Mom's Perfume If At All Possible

If you pick up an empty bottle that once contained expensive perfume, its possible to still distinguish the fine fragrance, even though the bottle is empty.

Adoptive mamas, you are the perfume and you want your life and love to be a timeless fragrance of fine perfume for your adopted and foster child.

That’s what my mom longed for, but like many adopted and foster kids, I couldn’t smell the perfume.

But, if handed the full bottle, I’d either grab it and throw it to the ground, stomp on it while screaming, plug my nose and run in the opposite direction, or bite the glass container.

Why such a powerful reaction?

Was I just a character-flawed kid who had no choice? Were the genes stacked against me? Was there no hope for me to someday be able to cherish the fragrance of the perfume?

In a surprising turn of events, I can now smell the fine perfume fragrance of my my late adoptive mom.

I can smell her best-in-town apple pie, see her taking care of my kitty, and feel her gentle hands rubbing warm oil on my childhood asthmatic chest at bedtime.

It was her legacy to me.

Legacy is a gift from one generation to the next.

Could it be that what I was experiencing was that my late mom’s legacy was surfacing in me?

Is Adoptee Anger My Life Sentence?

Why Can't I Control Anger At My Mom?

Many of us adoptees wonder if anger is our life sentence. It’s been a constant companion since childhood and even though attempts like counseling have been made to quell it, it’s a strong as ever.

Once a counselor told me to just scream when I feel angry. The next time I felt angry, I screamed in the middle of a session. She jumped at least three feet.

But, screaming didn’t help.

It’s important to understand how anger manifests for an adoptee. It’s a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence around a wrong. An adoptee becomes enraged, incensed, and downright hard to live with.

Anger says, “My birth mom gave me away and I am mad as hell at her for doing that.”

What I’ve Discovered About Adoptee Anger

What I didn’t know until recently is that at the moment my first mom disappeared from my life (at birth), something was borne within me besides anger.

This something grew quietly in my system and couldn’t be identified as a companion to anger. It just did it thing secretly. It grew beneath the surface of my life, yet it was deadly.

It whispers, “You’ve been through the worst hurt. Eventually, I will keep you from ever being free to heal.  I will leave a relentless sour taste in your proverbial mouth….I fool lots of adoptees because I grow beneath anger, like a winding root, delving deep even into your soul.”

The Bible says I’m poison and that I can defile many through you. (Hebrews 12:15)

Identifying Anger’s Unnamed Companion

My name is bitterness.

I am like a bubbling fountain laying beneath the surface of your anger. My roots don’t show but my job is to feed strength to your anger. My mission in life is to make it easy to get upset over things others do, especially your adoptive mom’s many attempts to connect with you.

My message is, “Your mother’s abandonment is the worst of pains and will be incredibly hard to accept or even admit.”

It has taken a lifetime to understand my anger and how to deal with it effectively.

Looking back on my discovery, I am sure it took a move of God to arrange circumstances that would ultimately free me.

In the weeks ahead, I will share some of this with you all.

I hope this has been helpful as you process whether or not adoptee anger is a life sentence.