What Your Adopted Teen Will Never Tell You
An Unpublished Letter to my Parents
Dear Mom and Dad,
You guys have done so much for me, and I know that. I would never ask to be treated the same way as Eli because we are different people and have different needs. But sometimes, it feels like you three are a happier family without me.
I spend a lot of time locked away in my room.
I don’t share your religious views and have stopped attending church with you guys.
I need more alone time than the average person to reflect and keep myself sane and healthy.
But sometimes, it just feels like you guys are happier and have better times when I’m not around.
Which is okay, I’ve learned to live with it and I know that doesn’t keep you from loving me, but sometimes it’s hard, and I wonder if you hold it against me.
There are still nights where I want to crawl in bed between you two and just be held and told how much you appreciate me.
At this point, I might as well get it all out. It’s eleven at night and I’m silently bawling into my pillow, I don’t have much more to lose.
I’ve never doubted that you love me. I know you’ve loved me since the day you flew out to meet me in the orphanage for the first time all of those years ago. But often I wonder if you appreciate me.
I remember sitting in the psychiatrist’s office when we first moved, it was our first session. Our relationship was so much rockier than it is now. For at least twenty minutes, you went off on a tangent about how my grades the year before were horrible, how I couldn’t control my attitude, and how I didn’t seem to give a shit about anyone or anything.
At one point, Dr. S asked, “All right, can you say anything positive about Victoria?”
Dad, you looked at me, and just shook your head.
When you both left the room, I broke down and cried. Dr. S asked me, “It must be hard hearing your parents talk like that.”
It’s been over two years since this happened and although we are in a better place as a family, my brain likes to autopilot to this memory when I question my worth.
Mom, I wish you would stop criticizing how and what I eat. I know you do it out of concern, but it just feels judgmental and I end up feeling guilty because I don’t want to meet the expectations you have set out during a meal.
Tonight was leftovers night, and you wanted it all gone. I think that’s great, but I just wasn’t very hungry and I didn’t want to eat more than I felt comfortable eating. When I overstuff myself, my brain wants me to compensate for it the next day by not eating anything.
It’s been a long time since I’ve used this coping mechanism but the guilt is still there. If I don’t want to have a vegetable one night, I wish you would let it be.
I know this is your nurse side coming out in mother form, but it leaves me with more than just extra food in my belly. It leaves me with shame for not being able to be in control of my portion size.
Dad, I wish you wouldn’t drag school into everything. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote an answer about you on Quora. How lucky I am to have you as a dad, and I meant every damn word of it.
It blew up and is now my second top answer.
Dozens of people commented that they wanted me to share it with you because they thought it would mean a lot to you, but as you know, I never did.
I’m trying to summon the courage to share it with you for your upcoming birthday, but I am slightly scared you will interpret it the wrong way and get mad at me for writing so much on Quora instead of focusing on school.
It was also extremely personal and I worry that you wouldn’t approve of me getting so deep with people I have no tangible connection to.
I worry that I won’t be able to take your criticism. I look up to you so much and it’s soul-crushing when I can’t live up to the potential you see in me.
I love you both so much. When I was younger, I would lay in bed with tears streaming down my face like they are now, wondering how I’m supposed to carry on when you die. What I’m supposed to do when you leave me alone in this world.
I worry about your health. Your happiness. Your decision to adopt. Would you have been happier without me? Was I worth it? Have I been worth all of the stress, fights, shouting matches, and counseling?
I love you so much I fear who I’m supposed to be without you. I’m excited to move out. Hell, at this point in counting down the days. I just wonder if going through all of this trouble to get me to where I am today has done anything for you.
Love,
Victoria
