Adoptees have been gaslit on a grand scale - by Gilli Bruce

There’s a lot of talk these days around the topic of gaslighting and it occurs to me that adoptees have been gaslit on a grand scale – and that this can create a powerful sense of loneliness. Why? Because:

We have been told that we are lucky / special / chosen and should be happy and / or grateful to be adopted!

Society has no idea how it feels to be relinquished and only sees the ‘selflessand generous’ act of adopting parents who seek to adopt a child who needs a home.

Some people (friends / family / colleagues) think we are attention seeking over ‘nothing’ when we talk about the issues, difficulties and trauma of. adoption. Others seek to minimise our feelings and point out ‘Well….you’re alright aren’t you?’

Our culture thinks that as long as we were provided with food and shelter and were sent to school and not abused – then surely everything is all OK.

There is no comprehension of the loneliness, the withheld grief and loss, the insecurity, the identity confusion, the fear of rejection and feeling that we are not understood that all impact upon the daily life of adoptees.

The negative impacts of family estrangement are a new and emerging area that is yet to be widely understood. But the effects of being in a family where you feel you don’t belong, is becoming recognised as damaging for both adoptees and those within birth families where they don’t ‘fit’.

And all this conspires to make us feel gaslit – wrong in our feelings and wrong to have them. We know otherwise, and many of us give up on trying to make non-adopteds listen or understand because we’ve seen too many faces glaze over, or heard too many change the subject if we mention adoption difficulties. I don’t know about you – but this makes me feel isolated and lonely in my situation – friends and family think I’m either exaggerating or being ‘too sensitive’ about it. The only time I feel seen, heard and understood is amongst other adoptees.

We understand that in Secure Attachment – the causes of any infant’s distress are seen, understood and soothed and comforted so the infant feels safe and therefore secure. This is what’s known as attunement – parents read the infant’s every micro-expression and through their loving gaze – support the infant back to felt-safety if needed.

Our distress was never seen or acknowledged or allowed or seen or soothed. As Pam Cordano (an American adoptee who speaks on adoption) says – ‘Their gotcha day was our lost-ya day’ so as the adopting family are busy celebrating the arrival of their child – the child is in a frozen state of loss and grief and survival terror – how mis-attuned could that be?!

So, we grow up in this lonely state of separateness, of being misunderstood at best and being maligned for our traumatised state at worst. I came across a piece byGeorge Orwell that seemed to chime with this and enclose it here. See if any of this resonates with you:

George Orwell on Loneliness

“The most terrible loneliness is not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that comes from being misunderstood.”

It’s the kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from silence, but from the overwhelming noise of a world that doesn’t truly hear you. You stand in a room full of people, laugh when it’s expected, speak when the moment demands it, and yet, in your heart, you feel invisible. You feel like the truest parts of yourself—the raw, unpolished, and beautifully complex pieces of who you are go unnoticed,misunderstood, or even ignored.

This is a different kind of ache, one that lives deep in the soul. It’s not about missingsomeone’s presence, but about missing connection, longing for the kind of bond that allows you to feel truly seen. It’s not the absence of love, but the absence of recognition—of being known for all that you are, without needing to filter or edit yourself to fit into someone else’s understanding.

To be misunderstood is to feel disconnected. It’s like speaking a language no one around you understands, shouting your truth into the void, hoping someone will hear and respond. Instead, you’re met with blank stares, polite nods, or worse, a misinterpretation of who you are. The world seems to focus only on the surface, skimming over your depths, while you yearn for someone to dive in and swim beside you.

In these moments, you may question yourself. You may wonder, “Is there something wrong with me?” or, “Should I change to make others understand?” You might be tempted to reshape yourself to fit their expectations, to dull your edges or brighten your colours. But even then, the loneliness doesn’t fade. Because in trying to conform, you lose pieces of yourself, slowly becoming a shadow of who you once were - a ghost of your former self.

The truest ache of loneliness isn’t about being alone; it’s about feeling unseen.

To feel truly understood by someone is to experience a connection that goes beyond words. It’s when someone looks into your eyes and sees the parts of you that you’ve kept hidden—the scars, the dreams, the doubts—and chooses to stay. It’s when someone not only hears your words but also feels the emotions behind them. It’s the moment when you realize you don’t have to explain yourself; they already understand.

And yet, in this deep loneliness, there is strength. The resilience of holding onto your authenticity, even when it feels invisible to others. The quiet courage of refusing to fade into the expectations of the crowd. You may feel unseen, but the essence of who you are—the light, the fire, the complexity—is still alive. It waits, patiently, for the right people, the ones who will see you clearly and cherish all that you are.

The beauty of being misunderstood is that it allows you to understand yourself. In the absence of connection, you learn to be your own anchor. You discover the importance of nurturing your own soul, celebrating your uniqueness, and staying true to your essence. And as you grow, as you embrace your full self, the world begins to shift.

The right connections—the ones that see you for who you truly are—arrive when you least expect them. They see beyond the surface and into your heart. They listen, not just with their ears but with their soul. These are the connections that remind you that you were never meant to fade; you were meant to shine.

So, even in the depths of this terrible loneliness, hold on to your essence. Refuse to disappear. Let your light burn brightly, even if no one seems to notice right now. The people who are meant to see it—your people—will find you. And when they do, you’ll realise that the wait, the ache, and the loneliness were all part of a journey to something extraordinary.

To be known, truly known, is to be celebrated in your wholeness. It is the antidote to loneliness.

Hold on. Shine on. You are seen, even if not by the world yet.

I hope that this piece has some kind of resonance.

In adoption fellowship, Gilli Bruce.

Photo by insung yoon on Unsplash