Karma, Dharma, and the Duality of My Adoption: Understanding the Deeper Spiritual Purpose
HOW TO MAKE SURE YOU NEVER GET REINCARNATED ON PLANET EARTH EVER AGAIN. PLEASE, I CAN NOT DO THIS AGAIN OMFG
In life, not all experiences are meant to be positive. Some, like my failed adoption or painful family separations, are part of a greater cosmic plan – shaped by “karma” and “dharma”. I’ve come to understand that just as light is balanced by darkness, our personal stories are written not only in love and joy but also in loss, pain, and separation. The experience of being part of a biological family cannot exist without the experience of being separated from it, and this duality is essential to understanding my adoption.
Adoption is often painted as a romanticized solution – an act of rescue or a new beginning for a child and a family in need. But that’s an oversimplification. It ignores the complexities, the pain, and the deeper spiritual significance of what happens when adoptions, like mine, don’t work out. My adoption was “meant to fail”, not because of bad luck or chance, but because it was part of a larger journey for both me and my adoptive parents. This isn’t something that can be dismissed by saying, “You just had a bad experience.” No, my adoption was always meant to unfold the way it did, leading to my eventual estrangement from my adoptive family after reuniting with my birth mother. This estrangement was a reflection of the unresolved traumas my adoptive mother couldn’t face and the likely infertility of my adoptive father, which added another layer of complexity to our relationship.
Karma: The Spiritual Law of Cause and Effect
In Vedic philosophy, “karma” represents the law of cause and effect – where our past choices, even from previous lives, shape our present circumstances. My adoption, from this perspective, was a karmic event meant to align with my soul’s journey. When it failed, and when I eventually became estranged from my adoptive family, it wasn’t just an unfortunate outcome – it was the way my karma was meant to unfold, teaching both me and my adoptive parents valuable lessons along the way.
For me, the experience of being separated from my biological family and placed in a new family was part of my karmic path. I needed to confront deep questions of identity, belonging, and abandonment. For my adoptive mother, who had lost her own biological son to forced adoption and couldn’t face that trauma, adopting me was also karmically significant. My adoptive father, who was most likely infertile, may have viewed adoption as a way to fulfil his desire to be a parent, but this, too, was fraught with unspoken pain and unresolved issues. Our shared experiences of loss bound us together in ways we didn’t initially understand. Her grief over her son, his likely infertility, and my grief over being separated from my biological family were tied together by karma, and our relationship was never going to follow the traditional adoptive story.
This wasn’t “just a bad experience” – it was karma at work, drawing us all into a situation where we had to face our deepest wounds. We weren’t meant to have an easy relationship; we were meant to confront the pain that came with it and, hopefully, learn from it. The eventual estrangement after I reunited with my birth mother was not a failure in the conventional sense but a necessary unfolding of karma that allowed us to confront the truths we had been avoiding.
Dharma: Fulfilling My Life’s Purpose
“Dharma” is my soul’s path or purpose in this lifetime. While karma reflects the consequences of past actions, dharma speaks to what I’m here to do or learn. Sometimes, my dharma has required me to face painful or difficult situations in order to grow spiritually. And this includes my adoption experience.
For me, being separated from my biological family and eventually becoming estranged from my adoptive family wasn’t just a random misfortune – it was part of my dharma. My path involved learning how to navigate life without that foundational connection, pushing me to explore my identity in ways I wouldn’t have if I had stayed with my biological family or maintained a close relationship with my adoptive family. In many ways, I was meant to struggle with these questions of belonging and identity because they are part of my soul’s growth.
For my adoptive mother, her dharma was wrapped up in adoption, both as someone who lost a child to forced adoption and then later as someone who adopted me but couldn’t face her unresolved trauma. For my adoptive father, who likely struggled with the reality of infertility, adoption may have been his way of fulfilling his dharma as a parent, yet this, too, came with its own set of challenges. Neither of them could fully embrace the complexities of our situation, which led to our estrangement. Their dharma wasn’t about creating the perfect family; it was about confronting the emotional and spiritual challenges that came with our particular situation. Both of them, like me, were thrown into a situation where we had to face emotional truths that we may not have wanted to see, but that was the point. That’s what our souls were here to do.
Duality: Light and Darkness, Connection and Separation
The concept of “duality” has helped me make sense of why my adoption was meant to fail. Duality teaches that life exists in opposites – light cannot exist without darkness, joy without sorrow, and connection without separation. In the context of my adoption, the experience of belonging to a family cannot exist without the experience of being torn away from one.
I’ve had to live in that tension between two worlds. I belong to both my biological family and my adoptive family, but in neither case have I found a simple or easy connection. Instead, I’ve lived in that space between connection and separation, learning that the pain of being disconnected is part of the journey. My adoptive mother, too, was caught in that duality – having lost her own biological child to forced adoption while trying to build a family with me, but unable to fully face her trauma. My adoptive father’s likely infertility added another layer of unspoken pain to our relationship, which contributed to the emotional distance between us.
Our adoption didn’t fail because we weren’t trying hard enough, or because we were unlucky. It failed because it was supposed to, because duality dictates that not all adoptions are meant to be a fairy tale. Some adoptions, like mine, are meant to show us that **failure can be part of the spiritual path**. In that sense, the failure of our relationship and the eventual estrangement after I reunited with my birth mother weren’t endings – they were necessary experiences for all of us, balancing light with darkness and connection with loss.
“Just a Bad Experience” Minimizes the Spiritual Truth
When people say to me, “You just had a bad experience,” I get angry. That phrase reduces my entire spiritual journey to a simple misfortune. It ignores the layers of karma, dharma, and duality that have shaped my life. My adoption wasn’t just something that went wrong – it was meant to go that way. It wasn’t a failure in the sense that something was broken. It was “supposed to teach me and my adoptive parents something about loss, identity, and healing”.
It’s hurtful when others minimize what I’ve been through by dismissing it as an isolated “bad experience.” It wasn’t just bad luck – it was a significant event in my spiritual journey and theirs. My adoptive mother and father couldn’t fully face their own traumas – her unresolved grief and his likely infertility – and this played a significant role in our estrangement after I reunited with my birth mother. The complexity of our relationship was never going to fit into a neat, tidy narrative, and that’s because it was meant to challenge us in ways that went beyond conventional ideas of family and success.
Embracing the Spiritual Purpose of My Adoption
Not all adoptions are meant to succeed. My adoption, in fact, was meant to fail, but not in the way people think of failure. The spiritual purpose of my adoption was never about creating a happy, perfect family. Instead, it was about confronting deeper emotional and spiritual truths – both for me and for my adoptive parents.
Through the lens of karma, dharma, and duality, I’ve come to see my adoption story as a necessary part of my soul’s journey. The experiences of separation, loss, and pain were just as valuable as those of love and connection. They were meant to balance each other to push me toward growth and understanding.
My story is not simply one of misfortune or failure – it’s a story of spiritual evolution. My adoption was meant to fail, and that failure has shaped who I am and what I’m here to learn. By embracing both the light and the darkness of my experience, I’ve found meaning in the complexity of my journey. The estrangement from my adoptive family after reuniting with my birth mother was not a sign of failure but rather a fulfilment of the karmic and dharmic paths we were all meant to walk.
My Soul’s Message to You!
Let’s face it: Life on Earth can be tough. And if you’re reading this, you might be one of those souls who’s had enough of the rollercoaster of joy and pain, especially when it comes to the deep emotional scars that some experiences leave behind — like adoption trauma. While the idea of reincarnation might be comforting to some, others of us are begging for an exit strategy. If you’re serious about not coming back, one thing is clear: We need to understand and address the kind of trauma that can literally change how our brains function.
Trauma LITERALLY Changes the Brain
No, You Can’t Just “Let Go”
Trauma LITERALLY changes how our brains function, yet people are really out here saying, “Just let go of your past.” It’s like telling someone with a broken leg to just walk it off. When trauma — especially the kind associated with adoption — hits, it rewires the brain in ways that deeply affect how we process emotions, form relationships, and understand ourselves.
Adoptees often grapple with feelings of abandonment and identity confusion, while birth mothers can carry lifelong grief and guilt. The trauma isn’t just emotional; it’s neurological. These changes make it nearly impossible to just “let go” without significant support and healing.
Why Adoption Trauma is Overlooked and Why It Shouldn’t Be
The “Happy Ending” Myth:
Society loves to focus on the positive aspects of adoption, like giving a child a loving home. But this narrative often glosses over the deep emotional pain that comes from being separated from the birth family. This kind of pain isn’t something you can just brush under the rug.
Lack of Understanding:
Many people don’t realise that adoption trauma is real. It’s not just a sad story — it’s a profound experience that can leave lifelong emotional and psychological impacts. Without understanding this, it’s easy for people to dismiss the pain adoptees and birth families go through.
The Silence of Birth Families:
Birth mothers and their families often grieve in silence. Society doesn’t always recognise their loss, which can compound the trauma. This silence only adds to the misunderstanding and dismissal of the real pain involved in adoption.
Cultural Stigma:
There’s a stigma around discussing the darker sides of adoption. Adoptees might feel they can’t talk about their pain without seeming ungrateful, and birth mothers might feel judged for their decision. This stigma keeps important conversations about trauma from happening, leaving wounds unhealed.
Why Prevention Matters:
Keeping Families Intact
Instead of only focusing on healing after the fact, we need to work on preventing unnecessary adoptions in the first place. Many adoptions happen not because the birth parents are unwilling or unfit, but because they lack the resources to care for their child. Poverty, lack of healthcare, and social stigma can force birth parents into adoption when what they really need is support.
When we advocate for family preservation — providing the necessary resources and support to keep families together — we can prevent the trauma of separation before it starts. This isn’t just about reducing the number of adoptions; it’s about ensuring that children stay with their birth families whenever possible, preserving the bond that trauma so often severs.
Take Action Today:
Advocate for Change
If you’re serious about never getting reincarnated on this planet again, then it’s time to take action and help create a world where the trauma of separation isn’t a given. Here’s how:
Support Family Preservation Initiatives:
Get involved with organizations that provide resources to keep families together, like financial support, healthcare access, and legal assistance. By supporting these initiatives, you’re helping prevent unnecessary separations.
Raise Awareness:
Talk about the realities of adoption trauma. Share stories and resources that highlight the importance of family preservation. The more people understand the deep impact of adoption trauma, the more we can shift towards keeping families intact.
Advocate for Policy Change;
Push for policies that support families in crisis, ensuring they have access to housing, healthcare, and childcare. Advocate for laws that prioritize family reunification and provide birth parents with the support they need.
Support Ethical Adoption Practices:
If you’re considering adoption, ensure the process is ethical and that the birth family has been provided every opportunity to keep their child. Ethical adoption should focus on finding homes for children who truly need them, not on creating demand for adoptable children.
Be a Voice for Change:
Use your platform to speak out against unnecessary family separations. Advocate for a shift in how society views adoption — not as the first solution, but as a last resort after all other options have been exhausted.
A Future Where Families Stay Together
The best way to ensure you never get reincarnated on Earth again might just be to leave this world better than you found it. By advocating for change and supporting family preservation, we can reduce the trauma of unnecessary adoptions and create a society that values keeping families together. This is about more than just preventing trauma; it’s about building a world where the pain of separation is rare, not routine.
So, take action today. Advocate for change, support families in crisis, and help create a future where children can grow up with their birth families, free from the trauma of unnecessary separation. Together, we can shift the narrative from healing after the fact to preventing the pain in the first place. And who knows? Maybe if we do it right, we can all avoid another round on this earthly rollercoaster.