Adoptee retreat, June 2023, hosted by Gilli Bruce and Lara Leon

Gilli and Lara got back late last night from the Lake District after hosting the very first in-person UK retreat for adopted people. Bravo to Gilli and Lara! In fact, apart from the US retreats by Anne Heffron, this is possibly a worldwide first*!

The feedback is starting to come in:

“People felt an immediate sense of OKness, they valued the opportunity to connect with others who really 'get - it' and enjoyed the mixture of activities, topics and sharing together - oh - and the fun! There was lots of laughter.” - Gilli

“It was the most important weekend of my life. I will cherish it forever.” - Lara

“We left each other feeling as if we were saying "Goodbye" to old friends whom we'd known for years rather than leaving people we'd only just met - the connections were powerful indeed. Sharing with each other and seeing 12 other heads nodding in agreement was validating and special - I loved it! There will be more events like this to come.” - Gilli

Adoptee retreat hosts, Lara Leon and Gilli Bruce - therapists and fellow adoptees

Watch this space for more feedback from the attendees. And another bravo to Gilli and Lara for all their planning, hosting, logistic-ing and holding such a sacred space for fellow adoptees.

"It's such a comforting space to be among others with this in common when a feeling of 'not belonging' is so common normally"

"Thank you for arranging this - giving your time and emotional energy to bring our group together. It's one of the most secure environments I've experienced"

"I knew within 10 minutes of coming, it was going to be OK. Unlike any other group I have spent time with, adopted people seem to know how to be warm and welcoming and put each other at ease. I guess we all know how painful it is to to feel unwanted."

"It has been invaluable."

"To connect and talk to other adoptees I found comforting and soothing."

"Really glad I came. Just being with other adoptees is the only opportunity I have to lose the nagging feeling that there is fundamentally something wrong with me. It is a soothing relief."

"I am so so thankful. Emotional."

"It was organic and fluid and I found the sessions engaging and interesting. I cannot express how life affirming and comforting these days have been."

"Amazing. I have never ever spent time with a group of adult adoptees. Really good balance of social and sessions."

"A relaxed environment to share our stories of adoption, listening to others made me feel less alone in my feelings. Loved Lara and Gilli's talks. A few tears but lots of giggles too."

"The weekend has helped me to reconnect to myself and its a very small but significant shift. A need to continue with my search reignited. Hopeful for healing - it's not too late. I'm not too old. It is worth it - I am worth it. It has given me hope. Thank you so much."

"Connections, hope, new purpose, understanding and comfort."

"I actually cannot write what I feel about how I feel. Grateful, hopeful, engaged, emotional, love. Wow. Thank you. It's a time I will never forget and would like to be involved in future events."

"For the first time in 76 years I've been able to talk freely about being adopted and people getting it! Listening to the stories of other adoptees has given me an insight into my own trauma. Please do more retreats. I felt connected."

"There is a tremendous need for adoptee support. This weekend has been so helpful in helping me on my journey. We all met and connected like a family/tribe. Our stories, though different were understood and not judged. The environment was safe which allowed us to be vulnerable and tell stories we had not shared with anyone."

"Extremely meaningful and valuable. Gilli and Lara are inspirational."

"Hugely beneficial."

"The retreat was going to struggle to live up to the high expectation I  placed on it, but it absolutely smashed it out of the park. Absolutely sublime. Very well done both of you and thank you."

*Ok, since writing this in a fit of excitement, I Googled ‘adoptee retreats’ and there are a few. Mostly in the US, but not soley. If you have an adoptee retreat to recommend, please feel free to share in the comments below. Sharing is caring! Claire x

Forced adoption - James' story

In early 1950, a young woman, call her Mary, left her home in the far west of Ireland.  Her parent’s small farm could no longer support their ever growing family. Mary had a very limited education, having left school at age 12 to drive a trap, delivering farm produce.  In common with thousands of others, she decided upon emigration as the only real solution. 

A few weeks later, she arrived in England and quickly found a place as a maid at a large boarding school to the west of London.  Pay and conditions were woeful, so when the opportunity to work as a waitress on an American airbase arose, Mary moved immediately.

By November of 1951, she was pregnant, unmarried and about to be dismissed from her job as a result.  Her serviceman boyfriend had been posted home when the news broke, standard U.S. military procedure at the time.  Reeling from rejection, too ashamed to ask for help from home and friendless in a foreign country, she finally accepted “help” from her local G.P. who arranged admission to a local authority home for unmarried mothers.

Mary’s stay at the facility was dependant on her giving up her baby for adoption.  Initially, the relief offered by her safe haven outweighed fear of that consequence, but within 3 months, she wrote home, asking if she could return.  Her mother lost no time in travelling to England.  It was not that she lacked empathy, but made it clear that the stigma of unmarried motherhood in the Ireland of the day was far worse than in the U.K.  Mary could be forced into one of the infamous Magdalen laundries; removal of her child for adoption would be mandatory and she would be compelled to remain for several years, in order to work off her “debt”.

Mary decided to stay at the home in England, where she gave birth to her child, me, in the summer of 1952.  Within 6 days, I was taken by my new family, a childless, middle aged couple.  Too late, a distraught Mary rushed to the nursery, desperate to keep her child.  He had already gone, leaving only outstanding paperwork.  Numb with shock and distress, she signed away her baby.

Mary went on to build herself a life in England.  She eventually married and had a family, but didn’t return to Ireland for decades, although she exchanged infrequent letters with her mother and older sister.

My birth father was a second generation immigrant to the U.S. Mary thought he was of Greek descent.  I certainly had a “Mediterranean” look, at odds with my adoptive parents, who would never admit to my origins.  Once a court had rubber-stamped the adoption order, they lost little time in moving home, all but losing contact with friends and their own families.

I was never told of my adoption, but earliest memories were of not belonging.  Although my new parents were usually kind and often loving, according to their lights, there was always an unseen and unspoken barrier.  Possibly they were too old to adopt, there was never much appetite for fun and adventure, although I was always well cared for.  There were of course no grandparents or aunts, uncles and cousins.  However, I grew into a lively and curious toddler, who could be quite challenging to his staid parents.

My adoptive mother was often unable to cope, by the time I was 6, she was going through a difficult menopause.  On several occasions, in apparent sheer desperation, she staged phone calls to the police, in order to, “take her wicked child,” to prison, or would pack a suitcase with my belongings, to be sent with me to a children’s home.  I frequently had bruises to hide, but came to accept this as normal.  My adoptive father, by then approaching 60, left parenting to his wife, refusing to become involved or offer any form of guidance.  The effect on me was predictably adverse.  School work suffered, I found it difficult to form peer relationships and became introverted and shy, blaming myself for letting down my parents by not loving them enough 

By 1970, I was a reasonably intelligent, though virtually unqualified 18 year old, attracted by a demand for labour abroad. I privately decided that emigration and a new start could be an answer.  A passport was needed, so a trip to the records office for a birth certificate was the first step in the process.  Following a fruitless search, a kindly official gently suggested that adoption could be the reason.  Unfortunately, the law forbade further disclosure.  An inevitable confrontation at home revealed the truth.  Mother angrily admitted that I was an adoptee, but refused to give any further details.  Following several horrible scenes, he left home and remained estranged from his adoptive parents for the rest of their lives.

A later change to adoption law meant that I was able to retrieve some basic birth details.  I mulled over these for some years, due to marriage and work commitments.  Ultimately, I decided to attempt to trace my birth mother.  It was relatively easy to obtain documents in my adoptive name, slightly more difficult to get the original long birth certificate, which gave my birth mother’s home town in Ireland.  Months passed in searching, until I hit on the plan of contacting the local Irish Parish Priest.  He was incredibly sympathetic and invited me over, as he had important and highly confidential information for me.

I travelled out a few weeks later.  Once I had identified myself to his satisfaction, the priest revealed that, following a period of seismic social change in Ireland, my birth mother’s history was now largely accepted.  By coincidence, she herself had attempted to trace me and the family had enlisted his help

I was introduced to and accepted by members of my birth family.  A few months later, I was able to meet my birth mother.  She told me her story and asked for my forgiveness.  I was able to thank her and assure her that the only feeling I had was one of love.  These revelations enabled me to understand who I am, why I felt different and finally come to terms with myself. I even enrolled as a mature student and gained a degree, fulfilling at least some of my earlier potential.  

Both my birth mother and I were victims of forced adoption, so prevalent in those less enlightened times.  Mary deserves an apology, but sadly she passed a few years ago.  I would appreciate recognition of the unnecessary suffering we both endured.   

I am not anti-adoption per se, but I feel that honesty, transparency and strict vetting and matching processes are vital.  Looking back, I feel that earlier parts of my life suffered directly from the policies in place at the time.  I have no animosity towards my adoptive parents, but now realise that they were hopelessly unsuitable candidates and that the system which enabled them, was irretrievably flawed. 

In 2017, I applied successfully to the court for an unsealing of the original adoption order. The process took some years, but I was able to use the information to claim automatic Irish citizenship and a passport.  I would be happy to share details of this process along with any aspect of my story, in order to help anyone with similar concerns.

Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky on Unsplash

The In-Between Lines project at Coram

Last week I attended a poetry night at Coram in London. The evening began with performances from several poets exploring the themes of the exhibition - heritage, identity, care experience, colourism, family and home. It ended with an open mic and a drinks reception.

This was the final event in a series which included an exhibition, a conversational panel and a panel with professionals.

When looking at the event information, this quote stood out for me:

“Over the years, I’ve struggled with feelings of anger, rage, and grief, but anxiety has always been my constant companion. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy models anxiety as ‘’intolerance of uncertainty’’. My adoption and racial identity generate precarity: not knowing how people will perceive me, what my biological family looks or sounds like, or whether my darkest days were benign or a terrible repetition of my family’s mental health history. Years of therapy helped, but it couldn’t heal the existential angst that a lack of identity creates. I felt so lost, and eventually I realised that I’d have to find a life narrative that served me.” - Anthony Lynch, age 23, one of the organisers of the In-Between Lines project

Many adoption professionals and adoptive parents have said to me/my peers that modern adoption is intrinsically different from traditional adoption. From this quote, and from attending the event, I can certainly see more similarities than some are willing to admit. In fact, creating a life narrative that serves us was one of the themes covered by Gilli Bruce in the How To Be Adopted virtual retreat in 2022.

I was blown away by the talent shown from the young people who performed their poetry during the evening. I was also very proud of Debbie Nahid from the Adult Adoptee Movement who spoke during the open mic to highlight the challenges faced by adoptees of all ages including lack of access to the adoption support fund and counselling. She echoed all our thoughts in that we wish these events existed when we were younger. Debbie also extended a hand to the younger adoptees, saying “we hold you and we can guide you”.

It was also lovely to meet many adoptees who I have met virtually on social media or chatted to via email. A recent quote from an adoptee says it so well: “ It's just so amazing talking to others whose brains are the same, and we just don't need to explain stuff!  Very humbling and also supportive!” Thank you to those I met for all your support and for attending How To Be Adopted events - so glad you’ve found them useful. One adoptee had spent the day feeding into a training project for social workers on the importance of language in adoption files - fab work and a huge emotional hangover from this work we do. Professionals take note when you ask us to input in this way! Oh, and I even met a lovely lady who discovered EMDR through this site, and is finding it helpful. Yay!

Read more about the event and follow the organisers @Inbetweenlinesexhibition on Instagram. It would great to see this event touring the UK if any adoption organisations would be able to fund this. As the young people themselves say: “The long-term goal is to form an online community of mixed and adopted creatives who can tell their stories through writing, art, photography, film, and more.”

Image taken from Coram.org

Held - a guest blog by adoptee Helen

I have always been curious about whether my earliest experience of being separated from my mother at birth and subsequently adopted might bear any relation to the insecurity and self-doubt I often experience in life and particularly in my work as a counsellor. In 2018 as part of an MSc Counselling and Psychotherapy I undertook a piece of research to try and explore this further. I used a methodology called “heuristic research” which essentially involves feeling into your own experience to get insight and implicit knowledge.  It was a very emotionally challenging and probably inadvisable process. This is an extract from some of my reflections at the time:

A cold morning in March and I’m trying to keep warm in bed. I don’t want to face the day. I’m thinking about an art exhibition I went to recently where I was drawn to an exhibit of some little white porcelain vases. There were several, beautiful fragile delicate ornate, like eggshell, easily fractured, broken. You were allowed to touch them. I held one in my hands and tiny bits of porcelain broke off like lace. “It’s okay…” the artist said “that’s meant to happen”. I loved these beautiful fragmenting vessels so light and delicate, at the same time containers, small, strong and rounded. This tiny vessel cupped in my hands, felt almost as if I was holding my self.

Thinking this soothes my miserable soul and a vaguely remembered poem drifts into my mind. It’s by my friend and poet Elizabeth Burns and it’s called “Held”. I haul myself out of bed to see if I can find her book and when I take it down from the shelf I see, ah yes I remember now, there’s a picture on the front cover of a beautiful round porcelain vase.  “Held” is the name of the title poem and it begins with a small child.

 “One year old and he’s discovering the river,

dropping stones in at the edge, retrieving them

He loves containers says his mother,

Then wonders, is a river a container?

The riverbed is: it curves its way….

down through these woods of wild garlic and bluebells,

letting the winding stony vessel of itself be filled

with springwater, meltwater, rainwater,  

[   ………   ]

and if the river’s a container, so’s a song,

holding words and tune; an eggshell

holds a bird, the atmosphere

enfolds the planet; everything is like a basket

says the basket maker, the earth contains us

we contain bones, blood air, our hearts

we are baskets and makers of baskets

and fresh from the hold of the womb

the boy child’s discovering how things

are held by other things: milk in a cup

food in a bowl, a ball in his hands

a stone in water, water in a nest of stones.”

Elizabeth Burns (2010)

The images in the poem are beautiful and simple. And they express a sense of what feels to be an emerging theme in my research. A theme around holding and containment. My research is essentially exploring what it means to be held and what happens to us when we are not held and the container of the mother is absent.

Could my being a fragile person who easily falls apart be a consequence of not being held? Not being held when I was born, at least not by my mother. By an incubator I guess (tiny, premature) or perhaps in the arms of strangers? Fresh from the hold of the womb, placed in the wrong container, or barely contained at all. Can something that happened so long ago still be felt all these years later?

Elizabeth’s poem is set in a valley called Roburndale, close to where I live, and where the river bends sharply as it meets a large rock face, it forms deep pools for swimming, the Fairie Pools. This is a place I know well and have taken myself to (dragged myself) in times of difficulty and despair knowing that immersing myself, swimming in these river waters brings life, invigorates. It does. It brings me into the world. It connects me and I become part of the world and I feel to come alive.

I am wondering then: is the river is holding me? The water, the riverbed? Or perhaps the earth, and the woods of wild garlic and bluebells. Some spiritual traditions consider the earth to be a mother, who holds and nourishes us. The poet Ted Hughes saw rivers as primal conduits to the core of our inner nature. Swimming in the river at Roburndale feels primal somehow. Perhaps I am experiencing a return to the waters of the womb and an emergence into life. Is that too fanciful? Would jumping into a cold bath have the same invigourating effect? Possibly yes. But at the same time there is no doubt that the river flowing through this lush hidden valley soothes me, almost as a mother to an infant. It calms me and I feel reconnected somehow. I feel as though my estranged psyche comes to dwell more fully in my body. I feel soothed and held.

I have always liked the work of the paediatrician and psychoanalyst Winnicott who developed a concept which he called “indwelling”. A capacity to dwell/exist/be present in your body. Winnicott carefully studied mothers and babies and came to the conclusion that “It is the provision of a safe holding environment that allows the infant to indwell”, traditionally the “safe holding environment” being the mother. Winnicott considers this capacity to indwell to be the bedrock of emotional health (Winnicott 1956).

This would suggest then that babies who don’t experience a safe holding environment would struggle to indwell. Perhaps in that case there can only be a sense of exile from the self, a feeling of not being at home, an existence that is outside of oneself. And a sense of forever trying to find a way back.

 Ref   Burns.E.(2010) Held. Edinburgh: Polygon

Photo by kazuend on Unsplash

Adoptee advocate burnout - Claire's story

I posted a blog last year about my experience of burnout and my need to take a step back. After this, the wonderful Gilli Bruce, from the team, contacted the Guardian to nominate me for a Guardian Angel award. I had no idea! When the Guardian called me to ask if they could interview me and send a photographer out, I was torn. On the one hand, I was absolutely exhausted and I knew I needed some time out. On the other hand, this was a great opportunity to get an adoptee’s viewpoint in a national newspaper. It would go some small way to redressing the awful imbalance where most stories about adoption in the media are from the adoptive parent’s point of view - the BBC being one of the main culprits. They even did a podcast episode on the language we use about care leavers and only interviewed an adoptive parent, no care leavers.

So, it was with some trepidation that I said yes to the Guardian article. In short, I put my physical and emotional health after the desire I have (and have always had since 2017) to help just one adoptee out there feel less alone. In that sense, the article was a big success. I was contacted by dozens of people saying thank you - even ex-classmates and colleagues I didn’t even know were adopted!

There followed an influx of new followers on social media and new subscribers to the email newsletters - hello to you all and welcome! But this meant even more beavering away behind the scenes from me! The extra exposure that this put me under also sadly led to some negativity and trolling from other adoptees. This was very hard to take as I didn’t have copy approval for the Guardian piece, which means I was potentially putting my relationship with my parents and siblings under threat as I had no idea what the Guardian would publish. It was a huge risk for me, on top of all the hard work I’ve put into HTBA over the last 5 years. It was very upsetting to get this backlash from other adoptees.

All of this led to an extreme situation in November of last year where by I was very stressed out and disregulated and starting to experience some physical symptoms - which I am now seeing a team of medical practitioners for. In fact, if anyone came to my talk at PAC UK for National Adoption Week you could probably tell I was struggling then. My talk was all about the nervous system and how, as adoptees, ours can need lots of additional care and tending. That is the lesson I’ve had to learn the hard way. You can have years of talking therapy but the body holds the score!

At this time, I made the heartbreaking decision to step back from the North London in-person adoptee groups that I set up completely from scratch and ran for 14 months. I am beyond grateful that two of the members stepped forward to run the logistics of the meetings, and Adopt North London agreed to continue their support. Sadly, I also decided to close my Patreon membership and stop running the monthly zooms for members. I am very grateful that two of the members stepped forward to run the Zooms and ensure they didn’t have to stop.

During this difficult time, Gilli Bruce and Lara Leon were an amazing support - thank you so much to you both, you’re angels!

As you can imagine, all this helped enormously to reduce my feelings of guilt that I wasn’t doing enough! Being enough! Changing enough! It helped me remember that there are lots of us and we can all do our bit, it doesn’t all fall to me. (Logically I know this!) The Adult Adoptee Movement have made my heart sing as it means the activism and influencing side of things is covered and I can focus on what I do best, blogging. I’m also great at sharing what’s going on in adopteeland, from new books to exhibitions, new groups and events. So please keep sharing these with me. I really miss Instagram for this because it was such a gorgeous community where we all shared and picked each other up. (Unlike Twitter!!)

You can comment with any adoptee news and events below, and/or email hello@howtobeadopted.com and I’ll share them in my email newsletters. Guest blogs are EVEN more welcome at this time as it helps take the pressure off me, so again please get in touch if you want to share a guest blog you’ve written.

Yummy things that have been helping while I’m recovering from burnout:

• Watching some relaxing TV like Emily In Paris - usually I would be busybusybusy and not allow myself ‘trash TV’!

• Reading beautiful books like The Marriage Portrait and Demon Copperhead

• Receiving some beautiful flowers and a fab book in the post from two of you lovely lot, thank you :)

• Cuddles with my hubby, my kids and my baby niece and nephew

• Boardgames with the family - we are currently loving Quirkle and Sushi Go!

Little by little I can feel myself starting to slow down, very gradually, and step out of flight/flight. Bear with me. I hope this helps someone somewhere take some time to tend to their nervous system too.

Photo by Kinga Howard on Unsplash

PS Bristol people! A new group has started led by a lovely lady called Becky. You can email me hello@howtobeadopted.com if you want to be put in touch with Becky.

PPS Another thing we’ve decided to do during this slightly fallow period is to make the videos from the virtual retreat free and available to all on YouTube: see the HTBA videos - huge thanks to the wonderful Gilli Bruce, Lara Leon and Anne Heffron for their enthusiastic agreement to share their talks :)

The dread of telling a therapist you're adopted in case they pull the plug

I’ve just found an EMDR therapist who sounds amazing. We had a brilliant initial chat over the phone, and we talked about felt safety, emotional regulation, fight/flight/freeze/fawn, triggers, early childhood experiences and much more. I am excited to hopefully work with her.

EMDR is one of the therapies I haven’t tried yet, after many years of talking therapy, some cranial sacral therapy and a fairly frustrating experience with CBT.  

However.

I haven’t mentioned that I’m adopted.

And I’m betting that the therapist isn’t Ofsted registered.

Which means I can’t mention that I’m adopted, or she will have to cease treating me immediately. If she doesn’t cease, she will be breaking current law in England and Wales. However, if I don’t tell her I’m adopted, am I breaking the law??

This could be interesting. How many sessions can I get through without mentioning I’m adopted! There are certainly early experiences I would love to tackle that can be talked about without the pre-knowledge, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t be nearly as useful as if the therapist had all that detail.

What a frustrating dilemma I find myself in. And I know hundreds of you have had similar experiences.

This is why we need to challenge the Ofsted law. It’s clearly a mistake that nobody considered properly when the responsibility of adoption moved from the Department of Health to the Department of Education.

If you haven’t yet filled in the government consultation, please do so. It takes around 15 minutes, maybe a bit longer if you have any additional educational needs – as there is a bit of reading to do to understand the way the questions are worded.

 Respond to the consultation now: deadline 20 March

And importantly, please forward the consultation to any current or past therapists and counsellors. I’m sending it on to the counsellors who have turned me down in the past and said they wish they didn’t have to. Well, now is your chance to change the law and get your wish! We need as many practitioners as possible to fill it in.

And, for the record, I think therapists should still have specialist training in adoption (from an adoptee perspective, not an adoptive parent perspective as seems to be much more common), but I do not think Ofsted need to gatekeep this. We are adults and we are very capable of enquiring if a therapist has taken any specialist training. Whether the current Barnardo’s training that Osted require is adequate is another story. Let’s get this law changed first and then we can look to improve training for therapists if required.

More info on the proposed changes can be found here

Photo by Isabela Drasovean on Unsplash 

Introducing Adult Adoptee Movement

Thanks to Claire and How To Be Adopted for inviting us to introduce ourselves here. We are baby scoop era adoptees living in the UK, who came together in May 2022 during the Joint Committee on Human Rights (JCHR) parliamentary inquiry into historic forced adoptions. We aim to raise adoptee voices and campaign on issues that affect adult adoptees, in order to change the narrative and to improve things not only for us but for younger adoptees too. We believe that at our stage in life we have a perspective on adoption that we did not have when we were younger and that our lived experience and insights can inform policy makers and service providers. Adult adoptees are rarely part of the conversation and we want to change that.

Our first task was to write a response to the JCHR report, which we published in October 2022. We are still (as of February 2023) waiting for the government’s response to the Committee report, which was due in September 2022. We have had an email reply from the Department for Education but it echoes the evidence given to the Committee by then-Secretary of State Nadhim Zahawi, and it does not sound like the government will take responsibility for the state’s role in forced adoptions and issue an apology. We are asking for a lot more than an apology and you can read our full response on our website.

One of our recommendations was to remove the requirement for those providing counselling and therapy to adult adoptees to be registered with Ofsted. The government is now consulting on this change in England and you can respond to the consultation up to 20 March 2023. We will be responding as a group and we will make our response public. We support the proposal but have concerns about what unregulated services will look like, and about how we will actually get the help we need.

If you would like to learn more you can visit our website where you will find profiles of our founding members, links to our response to the report, some resources and a series of blogs we have written. You can also follow us on Twitter or sign up to our newsletter. If you are an adoptee and would like to join our Facebook support group you can find it here.

We love the work that HTBA does and will continue to advocate for adoptee-led services and organisations to be at the centre of any support for adoptees.

Adult Adoptee Movement, 
February 2023

How To Be Adopted Lake District retreat June 9-11th 2023

June 9-11th 2023, the much-anticipated and requested How To Be Adopted retreat!

We’re going to be at the wonderful Nab Cottage in the Lake District. Nab Cottage is situated in Rydal on the A591 between Ambleside and Grasmere villages half-way along Rydal Lake. The postcode is LA229SD, and the nearest train station is Windermere. And yes there is a hot tub ;)

Email Lara to book your place!

The retreat will be run by:

Lara Leon, adult adoptee, Existential Psychotherapist and researcher into adoption and the needs of adoptees.

Gilli Bruce, adult adoptee, Integrative Psychotherapist and researcher into the lifelong impacts of adoption.

We’re looking forward to hosting this event and hope you will enjoy a restorative break in the company of others who ‘get you’!

The theme of the retreat is – How to be adopted?

Our weekend will include some relaxing activities and input from us on the topic of “How to be adopted”? in various sections that will be informative, therapeutic and generate insights…and possibly some emotions. With this in mind, there will be space for private reflective work, reading or any writing that resonates with you, plus sharing in small groups too.

 Our intention is to offer some warm connecting and laughter too so that we can come away feeling a bit lighter, with some new ideas on how to be happier and more peaceful adoptees. Also, we recommend that participants take advantage of the glorious surrounding area for a nature fix, or at least a visit to the famous Grasmere Gingerbread Shop!

The gathering will be a safe space for everyone with a safety agreement in place so that everyone can feel confident and comfortable to share / not share, protect their own mental health and get the most from their weekend.

Please note: It will be beyond the scope of the weekend to address any further trauma outside of the topic of adoption.

Parking

There’s parking in front of the cottage – if any of you know each other and can car share that would be fantastic.

Feeling safe and secure

The gathering will be a safe space for everyone with a safety agreement in place so that everyone can feel confident and comfortable to share / not share, protect their own mental health and get the most from their weekend.

Yummy food

Nab serves lunch, usually around 1 and dinner around 7, though can adjust these to suit. The food is freshly prepared, generally vegetarian, and as far as possible, uses organic, locally sourced and fairtrade products. Please let our host know beforehand if you have any special dietary requirements. Nab can cater for coeliacs and vegans at no extra charge. There is a surcharge of £10pp for any other requirements. Our host needs at least one week notice for special diets.

Pet allergies - Nab has some furry residents – 2 dogs and a cat so please be aware of this and factor this in of you have any pet allergies.

Sauna: There is a woodburning sauna outside the studio. If 3 or more people would like to use the sauna please let our host Tim know. It takes about an hour to heat up and costs £50.

Hot Tub: Our host Tim offers a complementary 2 hour session per group for use of the tub. After this there is a charge of £10 per hour.Please read instructions before using the sauna or the hot tub.

Payments: secure your place with a £50.00 deposit. The cost is £339.00 for two nights’ accommodation in a shared twin room with a fellow participant, all sessions and activities and all meals.

Our lovely host Tim needs payment 10 weeks prior to the event so we do need to ensure monies are in so we can pay him.

The event is non-profit making.

Lara is handling payments and to avoid Eventbrite charges we are using her bank account. To contact Lara regarding payments please do so via hello@lara-leon.com.

We will send out the group safety agreement and the information document from Nab Cottage a week prior to the event.

Valid - a guest blog by adoptee Helen Mary

Only slowly their hurt dies cry by cry 

As they fit themselves to what has happened

Ted Hughes (1985)

I met my mother for the very first time in the Autumn of 1994 when I was 29 years old. In Debenhams café in Hull. No third party, no preparation, no help, no mediation, it didn’t seem necessary at the time. Just a bright and sunny morning full of hope and promise. 

I realise now looking back the enormity ofsuch a meeting, and wonder whether the support of an insightful and wise professional would have been helpful. I can see my tendency to minimise or deny things. Thinking I can do this on my own. 

My birth mother was late for our meeting, about twenty minutes late, I’d started to think she wasn’t coming. That’s how much I’m worth, not really much. There weren’t even mobile phones then, I just sat and waited, and wondered if my mother may actually have decided not to bother coming. Passive acceptance on the one hand, a flicker of anger on the other (how dare she let me down - these angry feelings are fleeting, and possibly healthier than my usual passivity). 

An age passed and eventually my mother turned up. She had one of my sisters with her (I’d learnt that I have two biological sisters).  She hadn’t mentioned she was going to bring my sister and I wasn’t prepared for this. Why didn’t she come alone, just herself? Surely. Now I felt a bit like a curiosity they’d come to see, the two of them in their alliance. I didn’t think it was respectful to come like this. I suddenly felt very alone there in that café. This extraordinary event amid the clattering of crockery, the coffee machine, the shoppers and ordinary life. 

On one level, on the surface there was something sort of nice. Meeting someone who I could see was a bit like me (scatter brained- she’d forgotten where she had parked her car. My adoptive parents were very organised, competent, things were planned, there were routines). I don’t recall us hugging or embracing. Not genuinely, possibly not at all. There was no emotion really. We got along but it was as if we were just chatting, like we were shoppers meeting for a cup of tea. I was polite and accommodating. So much was denied. I suppose it just didn’t feel real. I couldn’t really imagine what real would feel like.

“The adoption system traditionally requires that children disavow reality.” Lifton (1994)

Looking back, I suppose I’d imagined something life changing and healing would happen that day. That my motherwould embrace me with love and I would suddenly feel profoundly alive in a way I had not previously known. Alas that didn’t happen, those hopes and dreams already ebbing away in those endlessly long minutes of waiting..

Also, looking back, I think this story illustrates that its probably not a good idea to undertake such a journey on your own

And finally I should add that there is eventually a happier ending, but that is another story….

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

What is complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (c-ptsd) as an adoptee

Complex PTSD is very similar to PTSD.  It tends to be caused by exposure to multiple traumas rather than just one for PTSD, although there are often exceptions.

PTSD UK have a great list of causes (and I can’t recommend their website highly enough!)- https://www.ptsduk.org/what-is-ptsd/complex-ptsd/

But the ones that stick out for me as an adoptee are:

• Child abuse or neglect (it most definitely feels like neglect to be relinquished)

• Regular, long-term feelings of captivation or powerlessness (as adoptees we are totally powerless!)

What really resonated for me though, were the three additional categories of symptoms that make c-ptsd different to ptsd: 

• difficulties with emotional regulation, 

• an impaired sense of self-worth, 

• interpersonal problems.

My whole life I felt different.  I didn’t fit, at home, at school, at university.  I never really knew what it was, just that I wasn’t the same as other people, I didn’t think about myself or the world the same as they did.

I’m 51 and was adopted at 6 weeks old, and at no point in my life had anyone mentioned trauma to me.  Oh I’ve read the Primal Wound (didn’t really get on with it to be honest), and do understand that being adopted has affected me, but at no point had anyone mentioned trauma!

To finally have a diagnosis and to now be working on ways to, where possible, minimise the impact of this trauma is literally changing my view of both myself and the world.

I’ve worked through ‘Coping with Trauma-related dissociation’ – a fantastic if rather thick book by Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele & Onno Van der Hart; I’ve read through ‘The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy’ by Deb Dana and worked through my maps, and had them stuck on my wall.  I’ve undergone both EMDR and Tapping, and whilst that hasn’t dealt with being relinquished it has really helped with specific occasions from my childhood that were also traumatic.

But for me, the biggest ‘aha’ moment was reading ‘The Body Keeps the Score’ by Bessel van der Kolk, how was this book written in 2014 and I have only been told of it now, 8 years later!  

In it Bessel talks about how the evidence now is that talking therapies just don’t work for trauma ‘No matter how much insight and understanding we develop, the rational brain is basically impotent to talk the emotional brain out of its own reality.’  Which completely explains why all the years of talking therapies did nothing for me, and in fact just made me feel worse about the fact that nothing changed the way I felt about myself and the world!

You see the thing is, I’m not broken, my brain is just wired differently because of what happened to me (there is a fanastic image of a brain scan from PTSD UK here - https://www.ptsduk.org/what-is-ptsd/the-science-and-biology-of-ptsd/

And what happened to me was not my fault!  Being relinquished (thank you Paul Sunderland for using that word), was shit, and it wasn’t my choice.  It changed me and the way I see myself and the world.  Knowing what has happened to my brain makes all that just a little bit easier to live with.  I have strategies for dealing with when I dissociate.  My friends and family know that I am hyper vigilant, and will check if they see me jump at sounds etc.  I write with curiosity in a journal about how I feel, and I try not to beat myself up about my reactions to situations, they are natural because of what I have experienced.

I told my therapist that whilst there is a part of me that is sad that it took me this long to know what is different about me, I’m glad I now know, as I might live another 30 years with this information and these new strategies, and that has to be a good thing!

Em

****************************************************************

And another adoptee, Debbie, has added some words on her experience of diagnosis with CPTSD:

The experience of being told I was adopted was extremely traumatic and I didn't receive any adult support to regulate my emotions and help me make sense of my relinquishment. Therefore, I was left in a tumultuous internal state with no sense of safety, this plus childhood neglect created the CPTSD and hyper vigilance which - for me - is triggered by people, places and events more than sound. 

I would also like to add that the trauma lives inside my body and talking therapy compounded it by having to relive the traumatic experiences. Most of us are unable to afford somatic therapy and therefore trying to access this form of therapy on the NHS is impossible. I was diagnosed with CPTSD in October 2021 and I am still waiting for therapy after being told there is an eight to nine months waiting list. I contacted the team last week to ask when my therapy will start and I was told there is a shortage of therapists and I will now be referred in late spring of 2023!

Photo by Radu Florin on Unsplash

A life-changing day for adoptees to gather in community

Anne Heffron with HTBA founder Claire

In October 2022, How To Be Adopted hosted a virtual retreat for National Adoption Week 2022 in the UK. The event was attended by 40 adopted people and - thanks to sponsorship from PAC-UK we were able to provide a large percentage of subsidised/free places to adoptees experiencing financial challenges.

You can now donate to get access to the recordings from the day. £5 for one session; £10 for all three sessions.

The agenda included:

• Yoga for adoptees with HTBA founder Claire who has recently qualified as a Kundalini Global yoga teacher.

• Adoptee guilt with adoptee and therapist Lara Leon

• Our narratives with adoptee and counsellor Gilli Bruce

• Breakout rooms with other adoptees, facilitated by HTBA team members

• Keynote speech from adoptee and author Anne Heffron

The feedback from adopted people was overwhelmingly positive:

“Very good presentations, well thought out. Provided a safe and caring environment.”

“Wonderful community, excellent talks, perfect mix!”

“Very high quality presentations and well taught yoga tailored towards adoptees and helpful info on yoga for emotional/nervous system regulation. Lara's presentation articulated deep thoughts and feelings I had inside but had not been able to articulate fully before - very illuminating. And I have read and consumed a lot of adoptee material over the last decade - all the key texts and probably every episode of adopteesOn podcast for a start! But she still gave me some new things to think about. I felt deeply understood. Gillian's pres. was very inspiring and I felt quite excited by the possibilities she opened up around stories and trauma. Anne's talk was also fascinating, she went very deep too, it was so refreshing and I love how she didn't hold back and talked about some unusual subjects that actually are right where I am at as well - made me feel validated too.”

“It was a very good balance and mix of speakers and activities (and well-paced).”

“Good to be with others with similar life experiences and hear from interesting speakers.”

“I found it a supportive event really well organised and each session was wonderful. It’s hard to choose a favourite.”

“It was life changing to be with people who totally understand how I as an adoptee see the world and how my head works!”

“It was a fabulous day, such a sense of community.”

“Such rich presentations but it was such a relaxed vibe that although some of the subject matter hit home I never felt unsafe.  You all held the group extremely well.”

“Felt I was on the same page as everyone else.”

“Hearing from others who have the same feelings and struggles as I do was incredibly validating.  I didn't realize how much it would help!”

“It was a very interesting day and helped me to feel validated and seen.”

“Love your aim improve access to support groups nationally.”

“Gaining understanding, recognition and validation of so many emotional issues that I have struggled with for life and that I have been dealing with and working through in recent years. Also the effects and affects of all these issues in all areas of my life. Also being in the company of other adult adoptee's was so very very reassuring and a rare feeling of true connection was wonderful.”

“I felt the day was very informative, validating, personal and well considered. I appreciate all of your hard work to make the day possible. Beginning the day with Claire and yoga was a terrific way to approach an emotionally and mentally charged day. I also appreciate that each person who spoke is an adoptee who shared their personal experience as well as their research.”

“It was the first time I had ever been amongst other adopted people.  I found it very affirming.  There was some excellent information and sessions.  And others, who seemed further ahead on their journeys, were very encouraging.”

“It was good to hear about some aspects I had not heard about before. - e.g re-writing a narrative to something more helpful, Gillian’s session.”

“Very good day. Good to have a day for adopted adults.”

“I look forward to meeting people in real life!”

• Find out more about our 2023 in-person Lake District retreat

• See all upcoming adoptee events on Eventbrite

• Find an adoptee support group near you

The tech support on the day was provided by the excellent Sara Smith of StormVixen.

Lara Leon talking about adoptee guilt

Thoughts on the PAC-UK adoptee day in London for NAW 2022

Last year PAC-UK put on a day of adoptee voices for National Adoption Week online – and Gilli and I were speakers on the day and participated in the Q&A.

This year, PAC-UK put on both an online day and an in-person day. HTBA’s Lara Leon spoke at the online day about her research into the wellbeing of adopted people. Many people got in touch to say how much Lara’s talk resonated.

The in-person day was a welcome addition to the NAW calendar which tends to be 80% adoptive parents talking about “their” adoption journey in the newspapers and on the radio (the BBC in particular seem to be allergic to hearing from adopted people – even recently producing a podcast about the language used about care leavers, and only interviewing an adoptive parent).

PAC asked me to speak at the London event about coming out of the fog. Once I sat down the prepare my talk, I realised there is far too much to condense into a 20-min talk, and that I would not be able to speak to every experience in the room. So, I decided to speak from my own experience of coming out of the fog after I became a mother and how things are still very much a work-in-progress for me. If it would be helpful, I could record the talk and make it available for those who weren’t available to attend?                                                                                        

The main focus of the day was making connections with other adopted people and sharing our experiences. There were three workshops running, of which people could choose two to attend:

·      Identity

·      Reunion

·      Art therapy

I helped out with the identity workshops and today I have been thinking about the emotions and experiences shared. Firstly, it’s always interesting to note how varied people’s experiences are – from being born in a mother and baby home in the 1960s to being born in another country entirely. And, for the first time for me, there were much younger adoptees present who have a number of difficult experiences from their early years prior to being adopted. However, as always when adopted people get together, the similarities also shine though. A common refrain heard throughout the day was, “Oh my god, I thought it was just me who felt like that!” and “I’m so glad you shared that, so I’m not a freak after all!”. Even some of the younger adoptees said they managed to score a “full house” in the adoptee bingo list of ‘symptoms’ that I shared, including anxiety, rejection sensitivity, rage, people pleasing and many more. Incredibly sobering to think how we are all carrying these challenges with us as we go about our lives.

One strong theme that shone out was the number of people who had a racial, cultural or religious identity that was erased by social services and their adoptive parents. They have subsequently struggled to reconnect with this part of their identity in adulthood / post getting their adoption files or doing a DNA test. Some of the younger adoptees added that due to their early experiences of abuse and neglect meant that they had chosen to reject aspects of their identity including where they were born and names they were given.

At the end of the day, PAC-UK asked us to write down thoughts and suggested actions for adoptive parents, social workers and policy makers to take forward. It will be interesting to find out how many of these suggestions from people who have lived through the process are taken on board and changes made.

The feeling I am left with is one of absolute awe that we as adoptees keep getting back up, keep doing such courageous things every single day that no one else may ever understand. And all this while holding down a job or study, looking after a family, renewing the car insurance and checking in on an elderly neighbour, because – after all – there is no ‘coming out of the fog’ leave from work, and no ‘embarking on adoption reunion’ leave from college. We soldier on with no government support and no societal recognition. It can be a lonely place when we try to share what we are going through with family and friends who have swallowed the Long Lost Family propaganda. That’s why connecting with one another is so important.

With that in mind, PAC-UK have launched a closed Facebook group for adopted people, so get in touch with PAC-UK to join.

Keep an eye on our Eventbrite page for upcoming events - including a retreat in the Lake District 2023. We’ve also just launched a monthly Zoom for Patreon members, and our North London in-person group goes into its second year soon.

If you’re interested in starting or joining a HTBA group in your area, please reach out.

If you were at any of the events this week, drop a hello in the comments as I didn’t manage to get everyone’s details.

Lots of love, take good care as you process all the emotions of NAW.

Big love. Claire x

PS. I had a poem prepared to read, but the nerves got the better of me and a totally forgot. It’s dedicated to anyone who’s struggled with people pleasing and co-dependency.

Mary Oliver, The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice -

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voice behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do -

determined to save

the only life that you could save.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Adoptee-only virtual retreat for National Adoption Week 2022: what to expect

We can’t wait to see you at our adoptees-only event on 15th October! Claire had the idea for this event when she recalled how dysregulated adopted people can get during National Adoption Week. This yummy event should ground us and set us up nicely before the week, which can be problematic for some.

Originally Claire had the idea of doing the event in person in London, but logistically it wasn’t possible for 2022. The event is kindly sponsored by PAC-UK who have also provided some subsidised places. These have not yet been snapped up, so please email hello@howtobeadopted.com to get your code to book, no questions about your finances will be asked.

Book now

So let’s see what’s in store for you lucky adoptees:

Gentle grounding yoga session with Claire

Claire qualified in Kundalini Global Yoga this year and is excited to bring the benefits to adoptees - it’s a new form of Kundalini which is more accessible and inclusive and it’s been shown to help the nervous system.

Adoptee guilt with Lara Leon, adoptee and therapist

Many adoptees suffer in silence, not understanding why they feel so confused, sad,  or lonely. Until recently, the plight of adoptees wasn’t well understood, and so open communication about these feelings wasn’t (still isn’t) something that is openly encouraged in families and peer groups.

As if this weren’t enough to contend with, the inability to bond or form strong loving attachments to adoptive family members may result in further feelings that the adoptee may have to cope with alone. Many adoptees experience a sense of guilt as they try to navigate and understand their feelings (or lack thereof) towards their caregivers and siblings. They often end up overcompensating, acting out or distancing themselves, causing further hurt to all involved.

This talk will highlight some of the key points about adoptee guilt, and how to go about tackling it.

‘Life Story’ with Gilli Bruce, adoptee and counsellor

We know from the world of psychology, that everyone forms a sub-conscious story by the time they reach the age of 7. This ‘story’ is about ourselves - and may include aspects of our worth, how we must behave and where we belong in the scheme of things. Most of us are unaware that we have this story hidden within our sub-conscious, but it’s there – operating behind the scenes and having a significant impact on our lives.

Naturally, adoptees have a story too and being adopted can lead to particular kinds of story that our young selves concocted to make sense of this confusing childhood experience. We will explore the concept of Life Story, the impacts it has on our lives and how we might want to change our story into an adult’s version that will serve us better.

You might want to have pen and paper to hand for this section of the day.

Breakout sessions: connect with other adopted people

After lunch, it’s your time to gather in breakout rooms (supported by the HTBA team) to share thoughts on the day so far and connect with other adopted people. We know so many of you contact us asking to be put in touch with other adoptees so here’s your chance. This is the only section of the day that will NOT be recorded.

Anne Heffron joins us from the States

The author of You Don’t Look Adopted is joining us for a. motivational speech on the power of writing your story even if no one else reads it. If you’ve never heard Anne speak before, get ready for a treat!

Postcard to myself

Lovely exercise to end the day.

The day runs 10am-3.30pm GMT with plenty of breaks

All sessions will be recorded with the exception of the breakout rooms

Cost: £29 Book now

Member price: £19 (find out about becoming a member)

Subsidised places are available, please get in touch on hello@howtobeadopted.com if you’re financially challenged - no questions asked.

Any questions about the day, email hello@howtobeadopted.com

‘Did you have a good adoption?’ and other dumb questions…

My sister and I are 14 months apart. We were adopted into the same family; me from the NCU of Southampton Hospital at 16 days old, and my sister from a children’s home age 7 months. She’d been there for 3-4 months after being with her first mother for around 3 months.

I was adopted as soon as my paperwork went through at 11 months old. However, our parents fostered my sister for a number of years before adopting her. We weren’t sure why at the time but now I think it was because her first mother was contesting her adoption. I remember standing up in court with my sister and my parents and being asked by the judge, “Do you want Nadia* to be your sister?” and I said to the judge, “She already is my sister?” I’m still not sure why they asked me and what they would have done if I’d said no!

When adoptees raise questions about the ethics around adoption, the power imbalances and the skewed narratives, the response is often, “I’m sorry you had a bad adoption”. What on earth does this mean and why does it negate what the adoptee is saying? This is partly why over the years I’ve chosen to remain ambiguous about whether I had a ‘good/bad’ adoption. Not only because it’s a reductive question, but because if I say ‘yes’ will people choose to listen to me over those who had a different experience, when all of our experiences are (should be) valid?

So, based on the markers of success, did I have a good adoption? Well, according to social services, I am what is termed a ‘good outcome’. My parents had some financial issues after the early 90s recession and we were on free school dinners for a while, but all the traditional markers of success are in place for me: university degree, successful career, happy marriage, two gorgeous kids, support network of brilliant friends, and a big house in a nice area. If you’ve read my blog, you know this isn’t the whole picture, but it’s what people look for when trying to determine if someone had a ‘good adoption’. That and whether you have a good relationship with your adoptive family as an adult.

So, on to my sister. What of her ‘outcomes’? Well, here’s where it gets interesting aka heartbreaking. Despite being raised in the same adoptive family, my sister has experienced substance misuse and incarceration. She is now a mother living without her children after the intervention of social services following a number of issues including experiencing domestic violence.

It’s worth noting that the last fact preceded the first two. I can’t say I would have fared any better if my babies were taken away from me. Can you? Birth mothers are really treated appallingly in this country and as a nation we should be ashamed of our systems. How easy it is to ‘other’ another person like this, who only yesterday was a child herself (see photo above) and now is vilified by society. Adoptive parents reading this, please know that majority of adopted people do want to know about their roots and their first families, and when that day comes do you want them to discover something hopeful or something tragic? If the former, please actively support and fund long-term therapy and help for birth/first mothers.

With my sister’s permission, let me be crystal clear about her circumstances. She went back into local authority ‘care’ as a teenager, had her first child at 18 and was a mother living without her children by 25. She subsequently became addicted to heroin and homeless. She was in prison when she heard her birth mother had passed away. Thanks to the understanding of the chaplain, she was able to attend the ceremony. She travelled to her own mother’s funeral in handcuffs with a police escort. This was the first time they had ‘met’ since my sister was 3 months old. She never got to look into her mother’s eyes and ask her what happened. Can you imagine the resolve of a person who withstands all of this pain? Who goes through all of this alone? Can you still ‘other’ this person, and call her a ‘chav’ and watch Benefits Britain or Jeremy Kyle to laugh at people like my sister?

And as for me, her big sister, I’ve had more conversations with prison chaplains, soup kitchen owners, and dodgy boyfriends than I’ve had with my sister in the last 20 years. My dad asked me to uninvite her to my wedding as he didn’t want any drama. My kids haven’t even met their auntie. In fact, I did a survey recently where I asked adopted people about their relationship with their adoptive sibling and 80% of people said “complicated” or “non-existent”. On top of all the other challenges of being adopted, we are also often struggling to form and maintain relationships with non-genetic siblings who have similar levels of trauma as us.

And what of my sister’s children? Did they have ‘good adoptions’? This was 20 years later, of course. Things have improved, haven’t they? Well, only a little. After they were adopted, the brothers’ and sisters’ relationships were not nurtured by their respective adoptive parents, and they ended up finding one another on social media as teens. Lots of emotions to navigate by themselves as teenagers, while their friends were busy worrying about things like homework and TikTok. Yet another additional challenge for the strong superheroes we call adoptees.

I write this blog post from my swanky hotel in Cyprus on holiday with my family, painfully aware of my privilege as the one who had the ‘good adoption’. So, when my husband smiles at me across the restaurant table and says, “Are you having a nice holiday, babe?” I smile back but it’s tinged with survivor’s guilt. Why am I here while my little sister is living on the breadline, trying to piece together a relationship with her children via Facebook Messenger when every conversation is a blessing and a painful trigger for these two (now three) generations who have grown up separated from one another, told to be grateful to adoption.

I have no idea what steps I danced that my sister didn’t that meant I’m here in this five-star hotel and she’s not. And why my voice gets an audience in a national newspaper, while she is confined to the fringes of society. Neither of us even thought she would live to see her 40s, but she’s still here. She may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and sometimes she’s not even mine, but we promised to be sisters forever. So next time you ask if someone had a good adoption, consider the nuances of that question, if it’s even an appropriate or acceptable question to ask, or something that could ever be summed up in a one-word answer to a closed question. Are you really asking, did you go to university, and do you see your adoptive parents for Sunday lunch? Because is this your marker of a good adoption? Does this reinforce your view that adoption is ‘a good thing’ with no grey areas?

And if the answer, is no I was expelled from school and I spent much of my 30s in prison, then wouldn’t you potentially learn more about what’s wrong with adoption from the second person?

 *Not her real name

After the Guardian article, where else can you find How To Be Adopted?

If you’re new to the blog and need a How To Be Adopted fix, we’ve got you covered:

1. AdopteesOn interview with the amazing Haley Radkee, where Claire does something really scary in the first few minutes of the interview. See if you can spot it! Host, Haley, also wrote a guest piece for How To Be Adopted. We love you Haley! Claire is also in the AdopteesOn off-script having another chat with Haley - this one is just for Haley’s Patreon subscribers.

2. Grazia piece on post-natal depression linked to adoption grief which was the first time Claire used her full name in public! Eek! Cue being disowned by her family - it didn’t happen but the fear was there despite no evidence. Thanks adoption ;)

3. PAC-UK National Adoption Week conference ‘voices of change’ where Gilli and Claire spoke about coming out of the fog and Claire showed a piece she wrote for the British Association for Adoption and Fostering back in 2007! Hang on to the Q&A in the afternoon if you want to hear Claire getting p*ssed off with adopted people not having enough of the floor!

4. Adoption and Fostering podcast talking about contact after adoption, aka maintaining lifelong relationships (as it should be called)

5. Lara Leon Adoptee or Adoptee webinar for How To Be Adopted. This was our first webinar and we were so happy to see so many of you, thank you one and all. The wonderful Lara also has a great YouTube channel

6. One Adoption conference on contact after adoption, aka maintaining lifelong relationships (as it should be called): presenting to 200 social workers, policy makers and family judges - get in touch to find out more and book Claire as a keynote speaker

7. PAC-UK blog, part of Family Action - Claire wrote about searching for her birth mother back in the late 90s before the internet and DNA testing!

8. Gilli’s talk on her research into the life-long impacts of adoption which was another awesome webinar we did this year.

9. And of course the Guardian piece from July 2022.

7 tips for adoptees who are new to this blog

Hello! You may have seen us in The Guardian and are curious as to what it’s all about. Adopted people needing support? What for!? Well, a warm welcome! You’re about to find out what the challenges are and how we’ve been campaigning for change in support for adopted people.

Here at How To Be Adopted, we have been pondering what it means to be adopted for a number of years. (Feels like longer, says my husband!) So, if you’ll permit us we wanted to share what we’ve learned in 7 tips, covering the journey we’ve been on:

1. Read, watch and listen to all the adoptee content

   Many people start with this stage, almost like a hyper-fixation, you consume as much as you can find - from books, to podcasts and blogs. A popular pitstop at this stage is all six series of the podcast AdopteesOn - caution, may leave you crying on the kitchen floor with relief and recognition. Anne Heffron’s You Don’t Look Adopted is a popular book choice, and her Instagram is full of truth bombs.

   This Paul Sunderland video on addiction and adoption is important, but very hard hitting. Make sure you have someone to hold your hand while you watch.

2. Find someone you trust to talk to

   It’s quite common to withdraw a little at this stage as you’re processing everything you’re reading and learning. You may find that people you thought were a safe sounding board are bringing their own opinions to the table when you really need someone to listen. If you have an understanding friend or partner, bravo. Otherwise you may want to find a therapist. This is where we break the bad news that adoption-competent therapists are thin on the ground in the UK as they have to be registered with Ofsted to treat adopted people. PAC-UK are a good option at this stage, ask if your local authority funds any therapeutic sessions with them. If not, the phoneline is a godsend.

3. Connect with other adoptees

   How To Be Adopted is a good place to start. We hold regular adoptee events in person and online including the North London adoptee group. The next one is 15th October 2022 10am-3pm, a virtual retreat to boost our wellbeing before National Adoption Week. Find out more and book

   We’ve put together a list of the adoptee peer groups we know about in the UK. In the US there’s AdopteesConnect.

   Another UK organisation who run events is Adoptee Futures.

4. Stay boundaried on social media

   Following on from the above, you may head to social media to connect with other adopted people. It’s worth knowing that Twitter can be a really tough place to be, so take it very easy! Instagram is slightly kinder, in my experience.

5. Get support for search and reunion

   Sadly, reunion is rarely like Long Lost Family. If it’s something you’re thinking about, PAC-UK is a good start as are Barnardo’s and Family Connect. These are for England and Wales. The important thing to remember is, if reunion doesn’t work out, it’s not your fault - these are relationships for which we have no blueprint and many birth parents carry a lot of shame (this is not our shame to carry, by the way!)

6. Look after your wellbeing and stay in the body

   You may want to consider other therapies on top of / instead of talking therapy. We cannot recommend anything in particular, but some adopted people have found cranial sacral therapy, reiki, EMDR, massage, somatic therapy and music therapy helpful.

   Coming out of the fog, as it’s referred to, is a very emotional, draining time for many. So prioritise your wellbeing as much as you can. At this stage you might start learning about the nervous system and realise that you have been living in flight/fight/freeze/fawn. Be compassionate with yourself. Try to stay grounded (exercise from Gilli below), and consider anything that takes you into the body, such as yoga, swimming, walking, gardening. The Body Keeps The Score is an important read.

7. Check the credentials of support organisations

   There are a number of organisations who purport to offer support for adopted people. It’s important to look into this, as the big ones are actually set up by and run for adoptive parents. That’s not to say you shouldn’t use them, but be aware.

To stay in the loop about our events and campaigns, sign up to the How To Be Adopted mailing list

Gilli’s grounding exercise

Some signs that you may be ‘ungrounded’ include:

• You get distracted easily

• Feeling spaced out

• An inability to concentrate with focused attention

• You over-think or ruminate

• You engage in personal dramas

• You experience anxiety and perpetual worrying

• A sense of urgency, a need to be fast-paced as if everything needs to happen right now

Physical clues may include:

• Poor sleep patterns and on-going fatigue

• Inflammation

• Poor circulation

• Palpitations or feeling as though your heart is racing

• Knotted stomach or tension in the body

• You feel fidgety and it is hard to sit still and relax properly

Research on grounding has been accumulating over the last 15 years and there is growing evidence that grounding techniques will:

• Elevate mood

• Reduce emotional stress

• Improve immune responses and reduce inflammation

• Improve blood flow

• Improve sleep, rest and relaxation

Grounding techniques

Cover your crown – place one or both hands over your crown, close your eyes,

breathe deeply and mentally push yourself down gently for 30 -60 seconds.

Feel your feet – stand or sit and put all your attention into your feet. Feel any

sensations of socks, shoes, floor surface, temperature etc. 30-60 seconds.

Stand like a tree – stand with your feet parallel and at least shoulder’s width apart.

Keep your head floating above your body, chin tucked in and spine straight. Rest

your hands at your side or on your navel. Without collapsing your posture – sink all

your weight and tension into your feet, allowing it to sink deeper and out into the

ground below. Imagine roots growing from your feet and out into the ground.

Extend these roots out to the sides like the roots of an old oak tree. Extend them

deeper into the ground. Strengthen a sense of being so firmly rooted into the

ground that nothing could blow you over – you are firmly anchored into the ground

and are part of it. Hold this for 60-90 seconds.

Follow your breath – focus on the sensation of the breath and track it as it enters

the nose, down into the lungs and back out again. Don’t force the breath to change

just notice it. In particular pay attention to the space between the outbreath and the

next in-breath – this is the moment when the body enjoys total stillness and where

you will find it.

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Closed adoption in Aotearoa New Zealand - new book 'Adopted' by Jo Willis and Brigitta Baker

THE EXPERIENCE OF CLOSED ADOPTION IN AOTEAROA

To not know your family story is a huge loss of your sense of self. It has the potential to undermine your wellbeing and your relationships across a lifetime.

Adopted is the powerful and honest account of two of the thousands of children adopted during the era of closed adoption in Aotearoa New Zealand, between 1955 and the early 1980s.

Jo Willis and Brigitta Baker both sought and found their respective birth parents at different stages of their lives and have become advocates for other adopted New Zealanders. They share the complexity of that journey, the emotional challenges they faced, and the ongoing impacts of their adoptions with candour and courage.

Closed adoption also exacts a physical and emotional toll on birth parents, partners and children. Their stories are also told in this compelling book.

Adopted is the new memoir by Jo Willis & Brigitta Baker, published 11 August 2022 by Massey University Press. You can pre-order the book here – it will be shipped to you upon publication.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Brigs (Brigitta) Baker has been in reunion with her birth family since 2008. Her professional experience ranges from leadership and advisory roles in the private and public sectors, to senior level consulting positions within human resources, leadership development and organisational development. She is a qualified coach and experienced workshop facilitator — skills she now uses in mentoring and supporting adopted people.

Jo Willis longed to know the truth about her birth family when she was growing up and was reunited with them with the help of Jigsaw. The journal she kept from the age of 16 helped her process her experience and navigate the impact of adoption. The journal was the beginning of a collaborative work that became Adopted. She is a passionate supporter of adopted people and advocate for legislative change.

Photo of Jo Willis taken by Florence Chavin

THE TEN QUESTION Q&A WITH WILLIS AND BAKER

Q1: What prompted you to share your story?

JW: This is the book I wished that I could have read secretly under my duvet when I was only just surviving. I needed someone who had been there, understood and could lead me through this and out the other side. It was time to speak up and begin to deconstruct the dominant narrative that adoption is a positive experience with no impact on any of the parties involved. Adoption is no one’s first choice. It is a westernised solution that has loss at its core. By debunking the myths, those directly impacted by this experience can regain their sense of worth and dignity and access help to heal and redress barriers limiting their wellbeing.

BB: For me, I had kept a journal of the search for my birth mother, so there was a point when I was reading back on what I’d written and thought, ‘This might be useful for other people.’ It was around that time I was introduced to Jo and found she’d been working on a book for several years, so it seemed natural to collaborate. I think for both of us it is summarised in the description we use of this book as being ‘a hand to hold through the adoption journey.’

Q2: How did you meet each other?

JW: I had been writing a version of the book — a mish- mash of thoughts on my own adoption journey and reflections from adopted people/clients about what they needed. The book had stalled because I was going through a patch of being tired of doing it on my own. I needed to partner with someone who had writing acumen and who was as passionate as I am about helping our peers and educating others about the impact of adoption. I mentioned this to my admin support person in the adoption team and within days she said ‘Can you ring Brigitta Baker? She is an adopted person inquiring about searching . . .

and by the way she wants to write a book.’ I called Brigs immediately!

BB: I was wanting to find out more about my birth father, so I contacted the Adoption Services team in Napier. I was chatting to the women who answered my call and mentioned that I was thinking of writing a book about reunion, and she said, ‘Oh, my boss is writing a book on adoption too — you should talk to her.’ We met for a coffee, and it was honestly the most validating experience I’d ever had as an adopted person. I left feeling for the first time that I wasn’t alone in this.

Q3: What do you hope people will get out of reading the book?

JW: We have spent literally decades unravelling the impact of early separation and growing up under the closed-adoption system through books, articles and therapy to understand the full impact that our adoptive experience has had on us. I hope that Adopted will offer deeper understanding and insight into this experience for all involved. I hope that those affected by adoption will see that the issues challenging them are not them being bad or that something is wrong with them but that it is a totally understandable, even predictable, response to a devastating experience.

BB: An understanding of the unconscious trauma inflicted on adopted people through disconnection from their birth family, the potential impacts of unprocessed grief and loss for all parties in the adoption circle, a sense of how common these experiences are and the toll they can take on relationships. I hope that it also promotes a more open dialogue about this topic in a country that had one of the highest rates of closed adoption in the Western world.

Jo Willis is an adopted person and a specialist in the field of adoption counselling, coaching and education. She is viewed as a leader in personal development within the adoption field. As an adolescent, she lobbied local and national politicians for amendments to be made to the 1955 Adoption Act. At the age of 21 she was reunited with her birth family.

Brigs (Brigitta) Baker was adopted during the closed-adoption era, and has been in reunion with her birth family since 2008. Her professional experience includes human resource management, leadership development and coaching. She is currently training in both psychotherapy and counselling, with the aim of working more deeply with adopted people to help them process their experiences.

Q4: How does being adopted affect your sense of self?

JW: Growing up, and well into adulthood, I felt something was missing. Reunion with my birthparents went some way towards filling the void but not all the way. Adopted people seldom see themselves as complete. They can feel that a part of them/something is missing and often blame themselves. There has been no acknowledgement that this might be due to their adoption experience.

BB: Unlike Jo, I didn’t grow up with any sense that something was ‘missing’ for me. I was in complete denial that adoption and not knowing anything about my birth heritage or whakapapa had any impact on me. I bought into the philosophy that I was a blank slate, a sponge that absorbed everything I needed from the family I grew up in. I had no curiosity about my biological history or the stories that pre- dated me. It wasn’t until the birth of my eldest daughter (who according to everyone was the spitting image of me) that I even allowed myself to think that I might have missed out on something; that I, too, might look like other people out there somewhere in the world. My sense of identity was completely welded to the ‘fake history’ of being the natural child of my adoptive parents. Not being in a relationship with my family of origin until I was almost forty meant I had to reconstruct this understanding of ‘self’ decades after most people begin the process.

Q5: Did your relationship with your adopted family change when you started looking for your biological family?

JW: I didn’t tell my adoptive family when I first started searching for my birth family. I thought that they would be anxious for me and maybe even protective of me doing this. Or they might have wanted to help. I wanted to protect them and also not have an additional emotional element in the mix. I also felt I was being disloyal to them. I wanted to do this on my own for all these reasons. While I was terrified of what I might discover, it was also incredibly empowering to take action on my own.

I told my adoptive parents after I had met both my birth parents, Sue and Tony. I was very nervous but it was a ’good’ story to tell. They were genuinely happy for me. They were also amazingly welcoming of both birthparents into all of our lives. My adoptive mother expressed that ‘there was enough love to go around’. Once we could all be open about this, my relationship with my adoptive family flourished due to acceptance and inclusivity.

BB: Internally the relationship changed hugely for me, but wanting to be the ‘good girl’, I worked damned hard not to show it. I probably wasn’t very successful, as I felt a great

deal of internal conflict about trying to keep both my adoptive and birth families happy at all times. The tension I felt whenever we were all together leaked out. My daughters talk about that in the book, which was really tough to read.

It was almost a sense of whiplash for me — swinging from feeling that anything prior to being adopted was irrelevant, to feeling like I wanted to reject everything associated with my adoptive family. It was quite dramatic and for a long time I felt anchorless. Even now, when someone asks me where I’m from, I don’t know how to answer, nor do I have a strong sense of where my roots are. That is something taken away from us in closed adoption. I know for some adopted people they feel strongly aligned with their adoptive family, for others, they can comfortably stand with their feet grounded in both their birth and adoptive families, and some are estranged from both. It’s still a ‘work-on’ for me.

Q6: You have included the words of your birth parents, partners and children, which provide an insight into how adoption affects the wider family. What led to the decision to do this?

JW: We wanted to illuminate these issues and educate about the complexity, the emotional challenges, the legacy of adoption for all parties involved — partners, children, friends — because compassion and empathy flow from understanding, which is healing for all. The residue from adoption trauma oozes into relationships and I felt guilty about how my adoption-related emotional and psychological baggage landed heavily on those I loved. I wanted people to understand that this was an almost-predicable aspect of the terrain and for adopted people to take responsibility for their part in the dynamic. Self-empowerment and growing beyond these limiting patterns is life changing.

BB: Early on Jo and I talked about how many adoption stories tended to be one-sided and what a point of difference it might be to try to tell our stories from multiple viewpoints. I know when I’d read these books, I would find myself wondering what the other ‘players’ in the story were thinking, and what their experience was like. We were very privileged that our families were willing to be part of this work, and we’ve had lots of feedback on how much readers have enjoyed this aspect of the book. All of the interviews we did added so much richness to the story, and the addition of my daughters’ contributions right at the last moment before the book was printed was an absolute gift. Up until that point they hadn’t really been old enough to contribute in the way Jo’s children had — but one of our editors encouraged me to submit these additional sections. The girls were both incredibly honest in what they shared — there were certainly some brutal truths I had to face in reading the first draft!

Q7: It is a very personal subject and was no doubt a difficult process at times. At any point did you feel that it was going to be too challenging?

JW: Oh, yes, many times, especially before I met Brigitta. Writing one’s intimate experience (which for me began as a cathartic release in a personal journal) brought me face to face with deep insecurities, incredibly confusing and painful emotions, and challenges to my core beliefs. This can be a heavy load to manage on one’s own. Alongside my personal writing and healing I was also an adoption social worker and counsellor for adopted people which at times triggered my own pain and mirrored my own struggle. The adoption journey is life long; so many times during the writing I faced challenges in the relationship with my birth mother or myself. This was hard because at times it felt as if adoption was literally consuming all of me and permeating every aspect of my life. It was extremely intense. Teaming up with Brigs brought more lightness and ease to the process. I’m so grateful for this collaboration, as I’m not sure this book would have ever seen the light of day without it!

BB: Hell yes! Too many points to name. We had no issue creating content we felt was going to be of value, so during that phase of the work I felt invigorated, and the writing flowed. What felt hard and overwhelming at times was trying to pull it all into a structure that made sense and would appeal to an audience. It was also extremely difficult dealing with the range of emotions that came from sharing such a personal story. There were times I felt I was in therapy myself rather than writing a book — delving into a lot of my own unprocessed trauma, as well as living through reunion with my birth family in ‘real time’ while working on the book. Jo and I also had to deal with being in a relationship as a writing partnership . . . and as two adopted people, we brought a lot of baggage with us that made it really tough at times! We actually had to take a few breaks over the years, and there were many occasions when we thought we just couldn’t do it. But what kept us going was the belief that if reading this story could help just one adopted person feel heard, seen, and not quite so alone in their experience, it would be worth it.

Q8: Have you been surprised at any of the feedback you have received?

JW: Both surprised, immensely delighted and profoundly moved by it. Nothing negative at all just gratitude and expressions of support from a wide range of readers, adopted and non-adopted.

BB: So far, I’ve been surprised at how overwhelmingly

supportive the feedback has been. I think Jo and I were both braced for some backlash, and that may still happen, but there has been such strong acknowledgement of how engaging and ‘real’ the approach we’ve taken is. The adoption space can be highly emotive, and many adopted people and their families simply don’t want to talk about their experience, or acknowledge that adoption might be playing out for them in ways that aren’t positive. Our aim with telling our stories is to open up the dialogue about adoption in Aotearoa in a safe and inclusive way — it impacts so many people in this country — and to respect all experiences of adoption.

Q9: What would you say to someone who is thinking about searching for their birth parents?

JW: Prepare by knowing why you want to do this, how important is it to you. Be honest with yourself about what you are seeking and how you might feel if you discover things that are not ideal. Prepare by reading about reunion experiences — for example in reunion, after the honeymoon period, how do both parties engage in a healthy relationship when both have wounds that they inadvertently project onto each other? How might you navigate loyalty towards your adoptive parents and your birth parents if applicable? Relationships are tricky and these ones can be extra tricky. Prepare by putting in place support people (personal/ professional) you know are there for you to talk to, lean on and help you, if needed, from the outset. Listen to podcasts for the lived experiences and reach out to those who have been down this path before if possible. Local adoption social workers are there to help also. Prepare for anything, nothing and everything!

BB: I would say do your work first! Ideally with the support of a counsellor or other professional. Gain an understanding of why you want to search, what you want to know and understand about yourself, what expectations you have, and what you might need if these aren’t met. Read other stories or listen to podcasts about the experiences adopted people have had searching so you have an idea of what might play out. There is now so much more content available on this subject than when Jo and I went through it, although much of it comes from overseas.

Once you start the search, have at least one person who can be one hundred percent in your corner as you go on the journey — someone who can hold space for you, cheerlead, advocate for you if and when it gets tough, and who can help you work through the emotions that will invariably come up. From my own experience, I’d also say try really hard to notice when you are falling into the ‘good and grateful’ adopted person role and putting other people’s needs before you own. At the end of the day, however, you can never be fully prepared, so accept that there is no ‘perfect’ way to do this. Nothing in life that involves secrets, shame, judgement and loss is going to be easy to navigate!

Q10: Currently a review is underway of the adoption laws in New Zealand. What do you want to see changed?

JW: Firstly I would like to hear a public acknowledgement and apology for the practices under the 1955 Adoption Act that this legislation was inhumane. Financial reparation was offered in Australia to those affected to access help, and I would like similar here in New Zealand. Adopted people are often not in a financial position to fund the support they need. Ongoing access to counselling or services that can support the development of the child, mediate relationships when required, and help all parties involved navigate this lifelong process with more ease.

I would also like new legislation to reflect our current social and cultural values and be in line with the principles behind the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, including only separating a child from their parent in exceptional circumstances and that public authorities have a duty to extend particular care to children without a family and without means of support.

There are other important elements to include around research, policy and practices regarding adoptive parents and the needs to the child; for example, that there is only one legal birth certificate with all information contained on it. I’d also like to see a child-centred law that in no way fosters secrecy, shame, or severs a child ever again from their human right to their whakapapa, lineage or family.

BB: That’s a big question! Jo and I both made lengthy submissions to the current review, but I’d certainly like to see adoption as a social and legal construct abolished in favour of some form of long-term guardianship. I absolutely recognise that there are some circumstances when it is not ideal for a child to be raised in their family of origin; however, establishing healthy attachment wherever possible to the person who carried us for the first nine months of our lives, maintaining strong connections to kin, and having access to our heritage are all critical for healthy human functioning.

The whole concept of legal ‘ownership’ of a child by parents who have no biological connection to them simply seems wrong to me. When biological parents do have to relinquish their children, we need far more education and support for them to maintain the relationship throughout the child’s developmental phases, including into their teenage years, when the search for self is so critical.

I would also love to see the financing of professional support for all New Zealanders who have been affected by adoption. We are overrepresented in all measures of compromised mental health, including addiction, depression, suicide and having higher rates of incarceration and relationship breakdown — yet there is an absolute lack of adoption- informed counsellors and therapists available.

Massey University Press

Albany Campus, Private Bag 102904, North Shore 0745, Auckland, New Zealand

Email editor@massey.ac.nz Phone +64 9 213 6886 www.masseypress.ac.nz

Media contact

Sarah Thornton, Thornton Communications

Email sarah.thornton@prcomms.com Phone (09) 479 8763 or 021 753744

Dancing on eggshells - guest post from adoptee David

Maybe it is the people pleaser in me, but as an adoptee I find reunion like dancing on eggs shells.  There are so many people's feelings to juggle and for some reason we put ourselves last in that list. We talk about the adoption triad, the child, adoptive parents, and the birth parents, but there more people involved when it comes to reunion.  This can range from siblings, both bio and adoptive, our spouses to wider family in general.  Everyone has feelings on the situation, even if they don’t vocalize them.  We’re afraid to upset any of them in case we are discarded and end up as alone as we were when we were given away.

I was born in 1983 and was adopted shortly after birth.  I had a happy childhood and spent my entire youth in the fog.  I didn’t want to look for either birth parent. I thought I wouldn’t be prepared for what was on the other side if I opened the door. That all changed in 2006 when my parents received a letter from the county council adoption services which said my birth mother wanted to know how I was doing.  This could have been addressed to me, but the adoption agency chose to send it to my parents in case I had not been told I was adopted.

The music starts, and my first partners take to the dance floor.

I seem to remember my parents handing me the letter and watching me while I read it. It was a lot to take in so I can’t be sure this memory is correct.

I was in a daze for several days after, the actual woman who gave birth to me wanted to know about me.  I didn’t think this would ever happen, what do I do and how do I handle such a massive situation.  I know, I’ll talk to my parents about it.  I remember trying to talk to my parents about what to do, they were and still are the people I go to for life advice, but on this occasion, I found out the situation was different.  My dad said, “surely you must know what to do”, his tone was frustrated and almost angry, like it was choosing between them and my bio mum.  I countered with the argument that both my parents and bio mum made their choices regarding adoption and gave it thought.  I never made any choices but am supposed to know what to do.  I heard the eggshell crunch as I stepped on the dance floor.  The passage of time has shown my parents that there is no threat to them, I love them all the same.  This allows me to be heavier footed as I throw my metaphorical shapes.

My next partner, and the most delicate to dance with, is my bio mum.

Meeting my bio mum was a whirlwind, at the time we were in different social classes.  She had done well for herself, she was 38, and her and her husband part owned a company and two restaurants.  I was young, 23, and came from inner city terraced housing, with working class parents.  She was ready for dancing the Waltz, and I was warming up for Gangnam style.

 I tried to navigate the relationship seeing if I could fit in and be up to what I thought her expectations were.   I sometimes found myself in uncomfortable situations and didn’t speak up as I thought it might jeopardize our fledgling relationship.  For example, the day we met she invited her husband and children to meet me, only telling me when they were on their way.  I wasn’t ready for this; in hindsight I should have spoken up.

I opened my life to my bio mum, which meant juggling my parents' feelings and still building a relationship with my bio mum.

The only thing I ever asked of my bio mum was information of my bio dad.  This wouldn’t so much trigger an eggshell crunching, but more an explosion like dynamite.  Over an 8-year period I only ever asked about my bio dad 3-4 times. The first couple of times she shut down as soon as I said “Can you tell me about my bio dad”. 
The next couple of times I got the smallest of snippets.  A name, his sisters first name and was told she would not have any idea where they were now.  This was hard to deal with, yet I did the dance and swallowed the pain of opening my life but not getting the information I wanted in return.

Eventually I got to the point where I said to my bio mum, on a phone call, either tell me more about my bio dad or we won’t talk any more.  She said “ok” and put down the phone.  I didn’t speak to her for a couple of years after that.  It cut very deep, being dropped like a stone for asking one question in a pleasant and civil manner.

My wife told me years later how much this event affected me. I thought I was fine.  But my wife said my self-esteem plummeted at this point and I had a lot of inner anger.

The next set of dance partners is a complicated mix…

My wife and I eventually found my bio dad and his family.  He had a very distinct surname and we tracked down my grandparents using old telephone directories, electoral roles and Zoopla (to see if the house they lived in had ever been sold).

I dealt with this reunion differently, I chose a slow dance rather than jumping into something too fast, but it was complicated and delicate all the same.
My bio dad was hard to locate, so I approached my grandparents via a letter.  They responded and were very open and supportive. My bio dad is an ex-heroin addict and has demons of his own.  My nan had him when she was fifteen. My bio dad found out at age twelve that his dad, who he grew up with, was not actually his biological father.  This does play into the reunion dance as I must be careful what I say on this subject as he and my nan have different views on being told at a later age about his true father.

My grandparents asked if I really wanted to meet my bio dad after they told me he had been an addict and had been to prison.  I said I did and have managed this relationship ever since.  I get on well with my grandparents, but find the relationship with my bio dad difficult, he is unreliable, and I have to make all the effort.  I don’t gel with him on a personal level, but I do not want to sever that relationship as that is what my bio mum did to me.  I love spending time with my grandparents, aunty and cousins.  I don’t want to leave my bio dad out, but I don’t want to spend time with him either.  This is a difficult dance to choreograph.

A second reunion and more dancing

When my son was born, I reconnected with my bio mum.  I didn’t want him to miss out knowing he had an aunty and uncles because my bio mum would never have reconnected.  I had to do all the repair work, even though I felt it was not my job to do.  It is hard to be the better person in this situation as all the pain was inflicted on me, my bio mum told me she would never have reached out to me.

After this reunion my wife was talking to my bio dad's sister, my aunty.  She said did my wife know that her son, my cousin, is friends with my bother on my bio mum's side.  They had been friends since infant school and had grown up together and spent a lot of time at each other's houses.  My bio mum knew where my bio father and his family were all along.  When my wife told me on the car journey home, I felt so angry.  The pain caused by never being given information about my bio dad and the lie of telling me she had no idea where they were felt awful.  But, as a good little people pleaser, I suck this up to prevent an eggshell being broken and tolerate the excuse my bio mum tells that she didn’t want to ruin the friendship my brother and cousin have. 

My wife found it hard when I reconnected with my bio mum.  My wife is a loving and protective person, she couldn’t understand why I contacted my bio mum when all she caused me is pain.  This is a subtle little dance all on its own, my wife has an opinion on this subject even though she doesn’t always voice it.

I honestly don’t know why put myself back in this situation with my bio mum, my logical mind says I shouldn’t have done it, I am worth more.  But my heart says you need to prove yourself worthy of your bio mum, you are good enough to fight for and keep like her other children.

I am still wary of this dance, like the eggs will suddenly all crunch and the music could turn off at any moment, purely because of something I might say.

I must be very careful when meeting either side of my biological family, they live nearby each other; my cousins and siblings went to the same schools.   My bio mum doesn’t want to interact with my bio dad’s family, even though they never knew I existed my entire life.  My bio dad's family are welcoming and kind, but the pain my bio mum went through in giving me up (forced by her mother, who is now deceased) means she could never face discussing that with them.  I am guessing at this last point; I think it is too sensitive a subject to ask about.

Extra dance partners…

With all the dance partners I’ve described, along with so many others I haven’t mentioned, like siblings or friends, it can feel like a disorganized line dance with 10 or more people.  You’re dancing with everyone at once, to their own music, and you are trying to be so delicate on the dance floor when really you just want to stomp around and enjoy yourself.

My reunion story is lucky and simple compared to others. I have found and have a relationship with both sides of my biological family.  I have been welcomed.  But even in this ideal situation, there are so many people involved all with their own feelings.

As adoptees we can never truly be ourselves, we are always beholden to the decisions and feelings of others.   Some people, such as our biological parents, have a power over us we cannot control.  We go back to them even if it causes us immense pain.  We accept their lies to preserve relationships.  We do the dance.

My advice here will be hypocritical as I don’t follow it myself, I am too afraid.  I think we should be ourselves, talk openly even if others are uncomfortable with it.  Not many people think about their words before they talk to adoptees, so why shouldn’t we be as free.  We never asked to be born or given up, we don’t owe anything to anybody but ourselves.  Be aware that the eggshells will break, and relationships can end.  Hold your head high and ask yourself, if someone isn’t supporting you then do you really need them.  Being a people pleaser and keeping quiet only hurts ourselves.  We always absorb the pain that others have caused.

Be free, choose the music you like, and dance as hard as you can.  We only get one life, no matter how we got here we should enjoy the party the same as everyone else.

 Photo credits:

Egg photo by Fernando Andrade on Unsplash

"File:Psy performing Gangnam Style at the Future Music Festival 2013.jpg" by Eva Rinaldi is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Group of people dancing: Photo by Ardian Lumi on Unsplash

An update on the Ofsted regulations that obstruct counselling for adoptees in the UK

An update on the push for changes to the regulations that obstruct counselling support for those affected by adoption.

For those of you who may not be aware – there have been obstructive restrictions in place for many years in the UK, that dictate who and who can not offer counselling support to those adults affected by adoption.

 As it currently stands, young adoptees up to age 21 (25 in special circumstances) can access counselling with specific counsellors - who have completed specific costly training with a few specific providers (that’s a lot of specifics right there) and who are registered with Ofsted (as this work comes under the Department of Education). This counselling is available to support families with adoptees and I wholeheartedly agree that this group should be protected by regulations and that indeed adoption-specific training is necessary and beneficial. So far so good. The problem here, is that adult adoptees and birth mothers who had to have their babies adopted – also come under this regulation.

Why is this a problem? Well – due to the costs, limited availability and the whole procedural machine that is entailed with Ofsted regulations – hardly any independent counsellors undertake this costly training - or have the will to create the processes and procedures required to meet Ofsted standards (hats off and thanks to the few committed souls who have by the way).

So – Ofsted registered counsellors are a rare breed and availability is very patchy around the UK. I researched provision in the North and searched all counties between Birmingham and the borders of Scotland and only found 7 Ofsted registered counsellors listed – that’s for half the country! I’m sure there is more provision in London and the South but this paucity of provision across the UK makes finding support incredibly difficult (happily on-line working eases this situation somewhat).  

We have been doing what we can to get these restrictive regulations changed so that more adoptees and birth mothers can access the counselling support they need. We have badgered Ofsted (thanks go to Matthew Brazier who has been super-helpful and supportive) and generally made noise about this and have created our own support streams via blog posts, webinars and adult adoptee peer- support groups. So far so stuck. However – the GOOD NEWS is in!!

On May 25th 2022, there was a meeting in Parliament took place between The Joint Committee on Human Rights and representatives of the government – namely Mr. Nadhim Zahawi The Secretary of State for Education and Sarah Jennings the Deputy Director of Adoption, Family Justice and Care leavers, also from the department of Education.

The chair was Harriet Harman. The case put forward by the committee was entitled ‘A Right to a Family Life’ and covered the experience of unmarried women who had to give up babies for adoption between 1949-1976. (Bear with me here, adoptees are included too).

I have copied the exchange that occurred towards the end of the meeting that is relevant to adult adoptees below, If you would like to watch the whole meeting (it was actually more interesting than I expected) you can find it on line at Parliament TV Live – Wednesday 25th May 3.15- 4.08 pm, The Human Rights Joint Committee, ‘A Right to a Family Life: the adoption of children of Unmarried women 1949-1976’.

This is the exchange that relates to adult adoptees:

Sarah Jennings: Thank you, Baroness, for the question. The Secretary of State was just beginning to touch on the issue that we know has been raised through evidence to this inquiry about the barriers to accessing support because of the requirement that professionals providing therapy and support that relates to adoption services must be registered with Ofsted. We are aware that this has been raised as one of the reasons why people are struggling to access support. I think the Secretary of State was just going on to say that this is an issue that we are very keen to look at.

 Nadhim Zahawi: Currently, the requirement that services are Ofsted registered can be a barrier to adult adoptees accessing and receiving support. I want to try to get rid of any bureaucratic barriers where this will, I hope, improve service delivery. However, we need to be careful that we do not sacrifice quality, which cannot be compromised in any way. I will give you my commitment and pledge that my officials will look at the options as to how we do this. We will consult very shortly on removing the requirement for providers of support services for adult adoptees having to register with Ofsted. In practice, that should make it much easier, and also more cost effective, for these providers to run their businesses. It will mean that support is more accessible for the adults who need it.

Baroness Ludford: I am a Liberal Democrat Member of the House of Lords. You have pre-empted my question. Like others, I appreciate the empathy that you have shown, referring to injustices and pain, and to the huge and unending suffering from these traumatic experiences. You have emphasised the importance of the ability to access therapeutic counselling and say that you want to try to get rid of the bureaucratic hurdles of the Ofsted registration process without compromising quality, and that you are going to consult. First, can you give us an idea of timescale of that consultation? Was it already in the pipeline before this 11 Oral evidence: The right to family life: adoption of children of unmarried women 1949-1976 inquiry prompted you to think about that? Secondly, does removing altogether the need to register with Ofsted contain some dangers of quality dilution?

 Nadhim Zahawi: Baroness Ludford, thank you for the question. Because it is a regulatory matter, we need to consult on it. However, we have been following your deliberations and evidence here as well. When I looked at this with my officials, we thought that we should move on it quite quickly because it is something that we should be able to do reasonably well and rapidly, and in a way that does not compromise quality. I think we can do that, and it will, I hope, inject more capacity in the system.

Sarah Jennings: We are already in active discussions with Ofsted colleagues about it. I think your point about the balance of risk and how to avoid compromising quality, as the Secretary of State alluded to, is why we are very keen to make sure that we consult and that we balance those risks and seek views from the sector as well.

Baroness Ludford: Will that be soon?

Sarah Jennings: I hope so.

Chair: There have clearly been decades of unmet need in this respect and obviously you are addressing it now, as you have told us. Do you have a budget for this? Are you confident you will be able to resource this?

Nadhim Zahawi: I think so. My department will be spending £86 billion a year by 2024. It is a big department and I think we can do this and do it well.

 Chair: Perhaps when you write to us you can give us a sense of whether there will be any ring-fenced budget of any sort and what sort of scale it might be on. For these services to be high quality and accessible to those who need them, there obviously need to be funding streams behind them.

Nadhim Zahawi: I do not want to repeat myself and repeat the numbers, but I can send you the numbers on the increased investment in the NHS that I outlined earlier.

(Joint Committee on Human Rights Oral evidence: The right to family life: the adoption of children of unmarried women 1949-1976, HC 270 Wednesday 25 May 2022 Watch the meeting Members present: Ms Harriet Harman MP (Chair); Joanna Cherry MP; Baroness Chisholm of Owlpen; Lord Dubs; Florence Eshalomi MP; Lord Henley; Baroness Ludford; Baroness Massey of Darwen; Dean Russell; David Simmonds MP; Lord Singh of Wimbledon. Questions 25 - 34 Witnesses I: Nadhim Zahawi, Secretary of State, Department for Education; Sarah Jennings, Deputy Director of Adoption, Family Justice and Care Leavers, Department for Education)

So – watch this space! Fingers crossed we will be reporting changes that affect adult adoptees sooner rather than later, although I do fully recognise that there is still a need for training so that counsellors fully understand the trauma and difficulties associated with adoption. Change must come, but it must be achieved with checks and safeguards in place to ensure that when we do get counselling – it is of the highest quality and meets the needs of adoptees and birth mothers who have suffered for too long.  (Side note from Claire: this training should not be written by an adoptive parent, as we believe the current training provided by Barnardo’s is!)

 - update from Gilli Bruce

Read the full minutes from the Parliament meeting

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Burnout as an adoptee advocate

I had a great coaching session today and one of the suggestions was to share with you all about my recent experiences of burnout. While my instinct has been to hide away and wait until I feel ‘better’ and able to stand in front of you all as my ‘normal’ self, my coach suggested that it may be helpful for some of you to hear what’s been going on for me to see if you can relate to any of it.

Burnout as an adoptee advocate

In a way it’s amazing I haven’t experienced burnout before now. I am a working mother of two young children who have needed me even more since lockdown. How To Be Adopted is my passion and I worked out I am spending between 40-80 hours a month on it as a social enterprise.  Don’t get me wrong, I love it! There is nothing like the feeling of helping another adoptee feel understood and connected to their community.

However, just before our last webinar, The Long-Term Impacts Of Adoption, with the wonderful Gilli Bruce, I was experiencing physical symptoms of overwhelm in the form of shortness of breath and shaking. I wanted the webinar to go well. (Let’s be honest, I wanted it to go perfectly.) I didn’t want to let anyone down who had paid a donation to attend. Truth be told, my tech/Zoom skills are good but not great and I was worried something would go wrong. Happily, help appeared in the form of an angel volunteer (who wishes to stay anonymous) who ran all the tech for us that day. So, after all that worrying, everything was ‘alright on the night’.

Mum guilt and parenting as an adoptee

In terms of the hours I’m spending on How To Be Adopted, one could argue that’s 40-80 hours that I’m not spending with my children; helping them read, making them pancakes or even cleaning the house (lol). In normal times, I don’t have any guilt about these things as my husband does 50/50 of the ‘family load’ and I believe that I/we mostly strike the right balance between parenting and having my/our own interests. However, as my reserves get lower, the mum guilt creeps in. Parenting as adoptee is not easy and it’s something that many people reach out to me to discuss.

 I spoke to my GP who referred me to a counselling service. However, on the first Zoom call (after one minute) they said they would need to terminate the call as they were not Ofsted registered. Another blow - that I know many of you have experienced - which added to my feelings of frustration.

Finding out I have ADHD

I’m on the waiting list of a diagnosis, but all the signs are pointing in that direction. I impulsively take on way too many projects and then get overwhelmed and procrastinate. I go right up to the deadline for projects which stresses out the people I work with. (Apologies to everyone who has been waiting since last autumn for Gilli’s PDF! I just want it to be ‘perfect’ before I send it but I’m sure you’d rather just have the damn thing.)

I’ve needed some time to process all of this and reflect on the way my relationships and behaviours have been influenced over the last 40+ years.  I’ve found it incredibly helpful to meet other adoptees who also have ADHD and I know that despite the challenges it is a superpower. However, there is a knock-on effect of trying to have a career, a relationship and be a parent and friend with this additional challenge.

Effect on my husband as the partner of an adoptee

This brings me to the impact on partners of adoptees and in particular adoptee rights advocates. I’ve blogged before about the impact of all this on my partner and it got to the stage where he, quite rightly, asked me to pause things as I was clearly struggling. He also suggested that maybe we could have a nice relaxing family weekend without the mention of the novel I’m reading that introduced a lazy adoption plotline 2/3rds of the way through, or the latest Twitter back-and-forth with Nicky Campbell!

The futility of campaigning for change in adoptionland

Some days it feels like it’s all a little futile and that the powers that be don’t actually want things to change. They are paying lip service to adoptees and CEP. Seeing steering groups only filled with the ‘right’ adoptees who say the right things in the right way is box ticking. Seeing national leaders take selfies of themselves with adoptees and post them (without permission) and yet not taking a single thing that the adoptees suggested on board or feeding back to them about actions they had taken off the back of ‘listening’ to them. Let’s not even go there with the Care Review and the Unmarried Mothers Inquiry – which I still have fingers crossed we will get an apology and concrete changes, although hearing a government minister wrongly say that adoptees have enough support and can go to their GP like everyone else was infuriating.

It really does feel like we are banging our heads against a brick wall sometimes. And, to be frank, I have a life to live. I only have one wild and precious life. Do I want to devote it to the thankless task of changing an industry that doesn’t want to change? I’m essentially fighting the entire Conservative government who are openly pro-adoption and openly anti poor people – who represent the higher end of the numbers of mothers currently losing their children to adoption. Existential crisis alert! I recently read a book that challenged me to live an unremarkable life, as it’s said that is the route to happiness.

Seeing national leaders celebrating adoption at Downing Street last National Adoption Week was probably where this malaise started. Time and again we have asked them to present the full story. ‘Celebrate’ if you must, but please acknowledge the lifelong loss and trauma as well. Parading younger adoptees in front of the camera while excluding older adoptees who have spent time learning about their trauma, their coping mechanisms, and the effect of adoption on their relationships throughout their lifetime is not cool.

Comparison syndrome with other adoptee advocates

Comparison is a one-way ticket to dissatisfaction, and logically I know that. I’ve been in therapy for years and taken dozens of self-development workshops, I know this stuff! But when reserves are low it’s easy to fall into the trap of looking at what others are doing and how much funding they’ve managed to achieve.

In reality, what I’ve achieved it beyond brilliant and I’ve managed it with a young family and a job. A senior bod at PAC-UK recently said, “What you do has galvanised adopted people in a really beneficial way.”

Other organisations getting hundreds of thousands in funding to improve adoptee support

Of course, objectively this is a great thing and will help many adoptees. But I do feel that it’s partly due to my hard work, networking, campaigning and galvanising over a number of years that has led to this level of national understanding for the need for additional support. So it’s disheartening to see huge funding for what is essentially How To Be Adopted’s ideas going to a non-adoptee led organisation.

What’s next for How To Be Adopted

The next blog will be more upbeat, as I share with you my top achievements over the last 4.5 years (since 2017 when I began) as I think it’s important for me to recognise that. It will also be a chance to highlight some gems that you may not have seen/read.

I’ll be taking some time to think about where my skills will be best used as it’s clear I can no longer try to be all things to all people and to solve all of the problems with adoptee support, or lack thereof, in the UK, particularly with no funding behind me. Big thanks to the amazing Gilli Bruce, Lara Leon and my fab support network of adoptees – you know who you are! As well as the organisations who have reached out to see how they can help namely PAC-UK and Adopt London North.

The main thing I would urge you to do off the back of this blog post is to sign up to the How To Be Adopted monthly email as this will be the way we’ll be communicating for a while as we scale back the social media. You are also welcome to join the HTBA membership programme and help us shape the future of the service – thanks to our wonderful founding members for your support!

Of course, if you have any brainwaves re resourcing, funding, etc please send them over to hello@howtobeadopted.com or comment below

Claire x

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash