The Intruder

Hello my Blogville friends, thank you for coming back to visit.  Today I am seeking solace in a cup of peppermint  tea as I write. I want you to know that I blog as an adult adopted person so that others do not feel as alone as I have felt for most of my life. I always thought I was the only one who felt like I did at times in my life, abandoned and different from the ‘norm’, like an intruder. I now know there are other adopted persons who felt/feel the same.


For me, I often felt and sometimes still feel like an intruder. Like I was not, or am not, supposed to be here. There are days that I feel like I should apologize for simply existing. Therefore I understand when my friends make plans that don’t include me as I am not worthy of their friendship, and when they do include me I feel grateful, but often feel like an intruder. 


After all I intruded on my birth mother’s plans by existing in her womb. Unlike being an unwed mother today, in the 1950s it was a shameful predicament. By virtue of simply existing I was intruding on her reputation and her immediate life plans. By choosing an adoption plan for me, she ensured that I did not intrude on her future plans; which were apparently to find a man, marry him, and settle down to raise a family. She had plans to have, and raise, ‘legitimate’ children. I had intruded on those plans but it turns out I had simply delayed them. My birth mother met and married her husband within 2 years of my birth and she had her first legitimate daughter about a year after she married.


Being an intruder has plagued me most of my life. I always knew that I had been adopted and that my parents had always wanted me. I feel like the only time I did not feel like an intruder was with my parents and my grandmothers. I was just Eddy and Leona’s daughter. There was no special treatment, especially with my mother’s mother. I think I have mentioned before that my maternal cousin’s parents had separated and my grandmother felt so sorry for her that she made sure my cousin didn’t have to do dishes or other chores. Apparently having your parents separate was more of an anomaly than becoming a family member through adoption. That acceptance was worth more than gold. I would rather have done all the dishes than feel like an intruder in my grandmother’s eyes.


In hindsight, having been adopted may have been what stopped me from forming many friendships when I was growing up. Somewhere deep inside I was never sure if my birth mother might come for me, that maybe this whole adoption thing was a huge misunderstanding, and I might have to leave with her. I spent a lot of time feeling like an intruder in my own life while waiting for my birth mother to show up and claim me. It’s funny how my birth father never entered my mind in terms of coming to claim me. Society had led me to believe that he probably did not even know I existed. That speaks volumes about my adolescent view of birth fathers; as innocent victims of the adoption process.


School activities related to family such as genograms and family trees were challenging, as were biology classes related to genetics. I always felt like an intruder in those classes, like I did not belong because I did not have the information needed for our homework assignments. I was caught between needing information and not wanting to hurt my parents by asking them questions I knew they could not answer. I did the only thing I knew to do, I made stuff up. I would rather be found out as a liar than as an intruder with no genetic or biological family information.


As an adopted person I also felt that I might have to leave my family at any time. I lived in fear (and hope at times) that my birth parents would simply come and get me. I felt like I was an intruder in my own family, so you can imagine what my friendships were like. Sometimes, I still feel like an intruder when it comes to friendships. It is funny how I expect to be left behind but yet I am mortified when it happens. When I was a child, if I got invited to a sleepover or a birthday party I always felt that the child’s parents had made them invite me as I could not believe they truly wanted me to be there. If a friend invited just me for a sleepover it would always be a lot of fun but if there even just one more guest I felt like I was intruding on their fun. I always took it personally if I saw my friends with other friends; acknowledging my worthlessness.


I would love to say that I outgrew this but sadly, it still plagues me. I often feel that I am invited to things because people feel they have to ask me. Socializing with groups of friends I often feel that they really just want my husband there but, obviously, had to include me. I often still feel like an intruder.


As an intruder I always feel obliged to make people comfortable with their decision to include me so I always bring along my sense of humour. Even on my worst days people can count on me to lighten the mood or make them laugh. It is my desperate attempt to feel included, wanted, even liked. To feel less like an intruder, even for a few minutes. 


When I was young I can remember wondering why my parents kept me. This was especially strong when I was being consequenced for some childhood behaviour. Unlike birth children, I always felt like there was some kind of return policy and I can remember the panicked feeling when I was in trouble. It felt like maybe mom and dad realized that I was just an intruder and might send me back.


Apparently without adoption papers, friends do not have the same obligation as family and can simply walk away. I often feel that, as an intruder, my friendship privileges could be, and have at times, been revoked; it makes for a great deal of insecurity. 


However, as an adopted person, I have come to accept the threat of further loss in my life. I feel that, if my own birth parent(s) did not want me intruding in their lives, I really cannot expect more from family and friends can I? 


This is why I am so grateful for the people who choose to love me, the people who truly like spending time with me. They are the people who make me feel like I belong, and that I am not intruding. I love you more. ❤️


Thank you for visiting with me today. Your comments are most welcome here or by email at [email protected]