The most hurtful thing that brought home the feeling of second best, or really not even being that, was when I saw a copy of my family tree that other family members had done. I get to the page that my personal family information was on, and there is my name and my sister’s name with the words “adopted” beside them. This happened when I was maybe early twenties (yes, I know it was a long time ago) but still to this day it really brothers me.

I was completely shocked to see that I was not viewed as a member of the family or a person but as “adopted”. That day I learned that the word “adopted” also carried an ugly meaning. To me it seemed like a disclaimer of sorts to people that I was not a blood member of this family. I felt so violated, rejected and wounded when I saw that. I was mad, but more like outraged, to see that we mattered so little. I wanted my name completely taken out of the family tree. If you cannot accept me without disclaimers then do not bother. My mom did not understand my feelings about this. She thought I was overreacting about it all. It was just for the records of history, not how people felt.

Here is the funny thing. On that side of the family, my aunt got pregnant and found a guy to marry her and father her child. Strange how that did not show up on this glorious self righteous family tree, the person listed as his father is not of blood. So, how can it really be about just for the records? Honestly, okay for one, but not the other? My mom refused to tell them to take my name off of it. Maybe this is when I started to see that my mom viewed her biological and adoptive children differently.

Either a child or adult is viewed as an adopted member of the family, or just a member of the family. It cannot be both ways. In my mind, my family tree is no different than others and does not include any disclaimers.


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