I am pretty sure that I have a chip on my shoulder when it comes to being an adoptive mom. I have read books and articles from the viewpoint of the adult adoptee and have over the years tried to use that understanding to view our family from the perspective of my two adopted daughters. I of course am unable to completely understand how that feels without being an adoptee myself, however I do know firsthand what it feels like to be an adoptive mother; it often feels like doing all the work without the credit.

Although I always thought it rather fun to have a family of 5 kids born in 4 different countries, I know that my older daughter intensely disliked the fact that with our Caucasian strawberry blond hair and freckles, we looked so different from her Korean heritage. Before we took her out of school and put her into a treatment program she attended a charter school with her younger siblings. As buses were unavailable, I drove them to and from school every day. I found out that she told people that her mother was dead and that I was just the lady that picked her up. Although I would have liked the truth to have been told, at the time, I understood that the lie was part of her adoption and attachment issues. My personal identity as an adoptive mother stayed reasonably intact.

Fast forward a few years to my younger daughter, finishing high school and furiously snipping parental apron strings as fast as she can. My adoptive mom ego is severely bruised right now and am desperately trying to behave in a way that is loving even though my heart has been trodden on.

I discovered this week that my younger daughter, now 18 got a tattoo over her ribcage. She turned 18 last August and she got the tattoo last October. She had said last Fall that she wanted one. I told her back then that if she was going to make that kind of decision she needed to do so after she moved out of the house after graduation (this May). Due to some pictures taken with friends with the tattoo showing, we know now. Because I had asked her to at least wait until she was out of the house, I am both hurt and angry at the blatant disregard of what I had asked of her. Is it a complete end of the world…no. After all, I have survived another daughter’s pathological lying, stealing and having a baby out of wedlock.

On top of the fact that my daughter got a tattoo, I am trying to understand and avoid reading too much into the meaning behind it. It’s her adoption date (the day we picked her up in China) and in French, words to the effect of “I will never forget you”. What I take it to mean is that she will not forget either her birth family or more likely the foster family who took care of her for two years before we came and took her to the US. I know that her foster family loved her. I know she loved them back. Emotionally though…the chip on my shoulder speaking…my heart says, “What am I, chopped liver”? My daughter was in an orphanage for 6 months then with the foster family for 2 years, now with us for 16 years….in fact, 16 years ago today we were over in China preparing to meet her.

I want to be loved too. In my hurt, I want to verbally make her hurt too and yet I need to avoid letting the chip on my shoulder read more into this tattoo than is really there. Sure, she is somewhat glorifying the foster family at the expense of us, however in time she will understand that the foster family is flawed just like we are; we are less awful parents than my daughter thinks right now and the foster family is less perfect than she thinks.

We hope to take my daughter back to China some day and have her visit the park where she was left as well as visit the foster family. I want her to have a more balanced, realistic view of her beginnings and to understand that yes, the foster family loved her and we do too.

I’m blogging this instead of confronting her as I believe that deep down in her heart that she really does love us and if we just keep loving her through these willful years, she will come out the other side with a better understanding and appreciation for us ….for the family she has now.

In the meantime, I’m really…trying…to…knock…that chip…off…my shoulder…