On Being Excluded, Rejected and Feeling Like Ugly Betty
Being
excluded happens to us all at one point or another. However, that doesn’t make it any less
painful, just because it’s common.
My 14
year-old daughter and I have been watching Ugly Betty on Netflix while hanging
out in our house during the Level 2 snow emergency this weekend.
Choosing a show that mom and daughter both
approve of is a feat in and of itself. I
love the focus on Latin culture in New York City and she approves of the
nuanced and well-developed characters.
America
Ferrera, who plays Betty-a first generation immigrant- is far from ugly;
however, the show is all about family sticking together, being who we are and
moving forward with confidence, despite repeated exclusions and rejections. We are already in Season 2 and haven’t lost
interest.
The show is a bit of an emotional support for something I recently experienced in my personal life. I learned this week from a source that a close family member will be flying to another state to attend a milestone birthday party that my immediate family was not invited to.
The show is a bit of an emotional support for something I recently experienced in my personal life. I learned this week from a source that a close family member will be flying to another state to attend a milestone birthday party that my immediate family was not invited to.
The last time I have seen this family was
before my daughters’ birth. Christmas
cards, letters, birthday cards and emails have all come to a screeching hault
over the last decade and a half. But in
fairness, my extended family on this side, has never been particularly close.
The main form of communication has been through one particular gate-keeper
relative who has all the latest information, which is then reported to other family members.
I have told this particular gate-keeper that
if the person they are gossiping about wanted me to know what was going on,
they would call and tell me themselves (surprise! They haven't!). This side of my extended family and my immediate
family all live in different states; however, this family was my only
connection as a child to cousins who I spent time with every summer of my childhood.
As adults,
we have all gone our separate ways and I can count on one hand the number of times
this family has come to Ohio in the last 35 years. On the other hand, my family has made an
effort to visit (or attempt a plan to visit) them in their home state on quite a few occasions.
I recognized at some point that there had almost
never been independent contact with my family (I define my family as contact
with me, my husband or my children – one of whom is an adult). In fact, our adult son has no memories
whatsoever of this family because of this inherent distance (physical as well
as psychological).
So, I have
been thinking back to the last time I felt excluded and what I did to make
myself feel better . . . . which then brought me to the recognition that on
some level I have always felt excluded. Just like Ugly Betty, I have been existing
in a world where my kind is rarely understood and appears different to
others.
There is always the thought in
the back of my mind that I am being excluded because I am adopted and do not share blood with my extended
adoptive family. By the same token, I am
aware that I have been excluded from my birth family because we don’t have
shared experiences. Add family dynamics, generational secrets, envy, inheritances, etc. into the mix, and this exclusion may have almost nothing to do with me (or you!) individually.
I have come
to believe that being adopted comes with it a tendency to feel inherently
excluded as part of the experience. The
reality is that we were at one time excluded. I was excluded when I was the only child in my birth mother’s family to be relinquished. Exclusion happened on
the day of my birth!
Many adoptees are excluded from genealogy, their medical history, joining their Native
American Tribes and from groups like the Daughters of the American
Revolution.
We can also
experience exclusion and rejection from both our adoptive families and our
birth families. Many of us feel we are straddling two families (adoptive and
birth), never able to have both feet on either side. These feelings of being on the outside can
become stronger over the holidays or on anniversary dates (relinquishment,
birth, adoption day, etc.)
What does
this mean for us as adults? It means we may be more sensitive to perceived
rejection and exclusion as a result, even when unintentional. It means we have to be aware that when we are
feeling excluded that self-care can be increased and may look like:
*allowing
time to grieve the feelings (journaling, talking with a close nonjudgmental
friend or family member, listening to music, doing something fun for yourself,
etc.). Reading this article helped me.
*focus on
the people who do support you and are currently surrounding you. As I type these words, my daughter is drawing on her Kindle in the chair next to me and my adult son Matt braved
the dangerous roads and surprised my daughter and I with a visit (My husband
escaped this winter wonderland and is visiting his sister in the south). Matt does this regularly and today I am not
taking it for granted.
*Remember
you have your tribe. If you are reading
this blog, it’s likely you are part of an adoptee tribe. Reach out to your support group, a support friend
or if you truly have nobody to talk to, email me and I will be happy to get you
plugged into this community. Listen to
an episode of Adoptees On if you want to get plugged in immediately.
*Reach out
to somebody else who is “different” or may feel excluded at your workplace,
house of worship, school, neighborhood or family.
There is no better person for the job to help
others feel included.
Awesome and so true!
ReplyDeleteThanks . . . having cribmates lessons the sting of exclusion!
DeleteGreat advice here. I will have to look into this show. It's been on my "to-watch" list for a long time.
ReplyDeleteBe prepared to fall in love!
Delete"I have come to believe that being adopted comes with it a tendency to feel inherently excluded as part of the experience. The reality is that we were at one time excluded. I was excluded when I was the only child in my birth mother’s family to be relinquished. Exclusion happened on the day of my birth!"
ReplyDeleteSpot on, cribmate. I am constantly straddling families, never quite fitting in anywhere.
Thanks Elle! I think I finally just decided to accept that I will always feel this way!
Delete