She Said She Wanted a Different Mom

Can I be vulnerable for a moment?

In a recent therapy session, my daughter looked me in the eye and said she wanted to be adopted by someone else.

Even typing those words makes my chest tighten and my heart ache all over again. It shattered me.
As adoptive parents, we’re told to expect the hard moments. We know that we are stepping into a hard place. We know about trauma responses, attachment wounds, and the push and pull of love and survival. We know it’s not personal. We know it comes from a place of deep pain and past loss. I’ve said those things to myself a thousand times. But when the child you’ve loved, fought for, and poured your whole heart into says they want a different mom, it feels deeply personal.

This is the reality no one advertises. This is the quiet heartbreak many of us carry in silence.
My daughter was moved so many times in her first 6 years of life. In and out of homes. In and out of people’s lives. Somewhere along the way, she learned that when it gets hard, you leave. You find someone new. Start over. But now she’s adopted and there is no “next home.” Honestly, I think that’s terrifying for her.

She’s testing it. Testing me. Pushing to see if I’ll still be here when the words get sharp and the pain spills over. And I am. I will be.

I know as a teenager I said very hurtful things to my adoptive parents as well. There were times my pain was so intense, that I needed to find a way for them to feel pain with me. If they couldn’t comprehend my pain, I had to figure out how to make them understand just a little of what I was going through. Having that experience, I thought I knew how to parent in a way that would make my kids feel so secure that I would never face these same issues. I know exactly what all of this is.
But that doesn’t make it hurt less. 

I know I’m not the only one feeling this, so I’m sharing not because I have the perfect advice or a tidy ending, but because maybe you’ve had your own version of this moment. Maybe you’ve been broken by words that came from a place of fear, but felt like hate. And maybe you’re feeling alone in it.

You’re not. This space is for the real stuff.
The days when it becomes really obvious that your love isn’t enough.
The nights you cry in the dark, wondering if you’re a complete failure.
The moments you want to run, but choose to stay.

If you’re in a season like this right now, I see you. Adoptive parents are some of the strongest people I know, but this life can feel so lonely. No one, no matter how strong they are, is meant to walk through this life alone.