Voices From The Dark
When adopted children grow up… and begin to speak out.
Ispent many, many years of my life carefully protecting an “image”. Almost immediately upon moving in with my adopted parents permanently, I learned ‘the code’.
‘The code’ dictated I swear stiff dresses with itchy lace collars when I’d always worn stretchy, comfortable casual clothes.
‘The code’ dictated I tame my wild child energy and become a meek, eager-to-please “children shall be seen and not heard” model daughter.
‘The code’ dictated I never whisper a word about or even suggest that I was being sexually and physically abused in their home, the parsonage provided by the church.
‘The code’ ruled my life by the time I was seven years old.
Many of you may be baffled right now, but adoptees everywhere are probably nodding their heads. ‘The code’ is pretty universal, and it can be summed up as this:
You are worthless and should be grateful we ‘saved’ you when no one else would, you are not going to ruin our reputation as saviors in this community by telling anyone about what you’re experiencing in our home, and you mean nothing more to me than how I can use you to enhance my public image.
