“When I have posted in the past about my experience with adult adoptees [being happy], it has been insinuated that there may be denial.”

This quote is one part of a comment on my most recent blog. The reader makes clear her frustration. While she can understand that some adoptees might not be pleased that they were adopted, she can not understand why they can’t accept that there are also adoptees that are ok with it.

It is very strange to me, this whole accusation of being in denial if one says they don’t have a problem with being adopted, or even *gasp* downright happy about it for some reason. How very condescending it is to say such a thing. It implies: “You don’t know how you feel, but I know how you feel because I know how I feel.” Eek!

Being that I don’t entirely relate to the position of those that believe adoption is the root of all of their problems, I can understand that they would be equally perplexed by those of us who are in balance with how we came into our families. It seems to me, though, instead of settling for confounded, some unhappy adoptees are using that sharp pointy ‘projection’ sword by taking their own denial of the roots of their issues or more literally, their denial that any adoptee could be genuinely alright with being adopted, and twisting it into happy folks being in denial that they are miserable…

Whew. I’m nearly out of breath with all that!

Now I would like to play the game of translating the situation into terms of those who are not adopted. What happens if the “adoptee” specificity is taken out and replaced with “people” in general? Is the situation the same?

Um, yes, I think it is. Many truly unhappy people (who were born into their families) are completely unable to acknowledge that there are some truly happy people that not only exist but may even be living in very similar circumstances to their own.

Everybody is different. Good ol’ Monty Python said it best in Life of Brian: “We are all individuals.” This is very much a part of our culture. Shall we use 1001 clichés to illustrate the point? Ah heck, let’s go ahead and do it: It takes all kinds. Different strokes for different folks. Dance to the beat of your own drummer. Misery loves company. (Oops… how did that one get in there? Well, it is part of the overall point, methinks.)

Whew. That felt good. It’s not often a girl can get away with all that trite in one place. Of course, it’s not very often a girl would even want to, for that matter.

[Continued…]