adoption

If I wasn’t naming this in a series, I would call this one something clever about dirty laundry.

When my mother first cut me off, she uninvited me to Christmas events and did the regular silent treatment as emotional punishment thing. We even invited her to our home despite the avoidance of any kind of amends or talks. She refused. In fact she said things were better the way they were (aka, without us). Then a few months later she wanted to pass gifts off to my kids from her

through a family member (without communicating or speaking to us in any way) and we said no. That’s when the people turned on me. That’s when it all became my fault. I was attacked on multiple sides and cut off by more family members than I can count. Don’t worry, I now know that’s not only a common occurrence in these situations, it almost ALWAYS happens this way. People who have for years heard the slander and half truths and been triangulated and basically trained to disbelieve you and think badly of you will jump head first into the smear campaign as soon as it starts. (Most days I don’t blame them. They’re her victims too, for the most part.)

Interesting just before the switch, I sat down with several members of what would become the supposed army against me and every. single. one. would not/could not deny the behaviors I have described to you in part two or that I share about my mother. These acts she’s done, not just to me but to many, many before me and I imagine after me as well. They’d seen them, they could acknowledge and name them. But their thought process was that this is “just the way it is” to be in relationship with her. It’s part of the deal. One (gosh I could write a whole other series on that person) would explain that it’s just that my mother and me and a few other people don’t mix well- she could see the abuse but justified it because it had not ever been directed at her. Lovely.

The consensus was: don’t air the dirty laundry. Sure this is all happening, no one denies that but don’t you dare call it abuse and don’t you dare tell people about it.

Imma call “BS” on that one, y’all. Airing dirty laundry is part of my charm (do a little Meyers Briggs search on INFJs if you don’t believe me). And it’s part of the culture of the day….the same people who want you to hide a truth about them will read every tabloid magazine cover to cover. The further you try to stuff your truth down, the faster someone else is trying to dig it up. I would go so far to say that the further you try to stuff your truth down, the faster the Holy Spirit is working to dig it up and expose it. God doesn’t leave things in the dark- He brings them to light to change you, to work on you, to create love where there was decay.

It’s not anything good to lie, hide truths, change terms, or be someone you aren’t in order to make other people comfortable.

The truth is, the dirty laundry goes way back…and the more I learned about narcissistic parents and patterns, the more I could see it. If you have a narcissistic parent, do you also find traits in those who’ve gone before them? Many of the people I know with these experiences can see it in their family line. What we also read from these studiers of people is the belief that the behaviors of a narcissist are mostly taught and not instinctive. That is a relief as a parent, (right?), and as a non-narcissistic person. One therapist said you know you’re not a narcissist if you worry you might be one- a true narcissist will never even consider the fault may be their’s. (If you know one, you’re nodding right now because you know exactly what I mean 😉.) But the relief is truly is deep as it tells us that if we teach our children empathy, kindness, self-awareness, the ability to focus on others, to really listen to hear…we immunize them from becoming narcissistic.

It’s been five years since the split, twenty-eight since my first vivid memory of knowing my mother didn’t love me. And I still find out old lies, half truths and brand new shiny lies about me and my people. I still run into mutual folks that are considered “hers” and see in their eyes they believe horrible, ugly things about me that aren’t real.

It’s taken all the days in these five years to tell you this: the only weapon against a narcissist is to continue to be who you truly are. The first couple years of recovery I shared the lies word for word and all the proof I could muster. Now I know I’m free because I don’t feel any need to try to convince you I am me. I simple am me. I’m not perfect or immune from anger or anxiety when I hear their stories. But I’m also not what she has told me I am my entire life….who she claims I am isn’t true. I am who God says I am. And everyday that I walk that out, I prove her wrong with my life. And that’s my advice to others like me.

Breathe deep. Know yourself. Live in who you are and truth of that person. Keep loving. That’s the win. ❤️

By: Rachel Ritter

My name is Rachel Ritter. I am a homeschooling mama to my crew going on six years, the Director of SMILE foster care closet, a wife of double digit years (that makes me feel legit, ya’ll) and a reader/quilter/friend. I have six children; three adopted from foster care, one adopted privately and two unlikely biological children. My first four kids came all on top of each other and I had 3 under 2/4 under 4. They’re very close, not just in age, and watching them become people has been the greatest honor of my life thus far. Last year, we decided to join the ranks of foster parents again and ended up adopting twins. My kids ages now (I know you’re wondering) are 12, 9, 9, 8, and two 1 year olds. I tell you all that really just so you know, without a doubt, that I drink a lot of coffee and spend a lot of time folding laundry, about which I might just be an expert. I read and journal like it’s required for breath, I like organization and order in my home, but crave adventure as frequently as possible. I tend to be a whistleblower, a truth-teller (and some people don’t like that). In my thirties I am learning to think longer before I speak. I use the hashtag ‘I have the best life’ because I believe it to be true, in the midst of diapers and lost pencils and spilled drinks and preteen drama and trauma healing and all the things that go along with raising my family, who are my purpose.

In the last few months, amidst the confusion and frustrations of what’s happening in our country, and our world, I’ve contemplated quite a bit about identity….about who we see ourselves as. I believe for many people I know, having identified themselves as “American” has become tainted and/or exasperated by the recent actions we’ve seen take place. For some, we are ashamed and some are emboldened, whatever side you land on, I doubt you’ll disagree we have, as a people, perhaps idolized our country over God and we are now seeing what happens when an idol falls- or changes. It’s agonizing to have our identity changed or questioned. Jesus once asked his closest friends, “And who do you say I am?”

Questioning our own identity can be difficult and enlightening. Who do you say you are? Do you tend to see yourself in a better light than others do? Do you worry more for what others say about you than what you feel to be true about yourself? Do you possess self-awareness, the concept of recognizing and realizing that what you say and do reflects who you are in your heart and mind? This is a lesson I am constantly trying to teach my children: what you say and what you do tells people who you are. The most freeing thing about identity is that we are free to choose so many aspects of it. We are free to choose to follow what we love, what we hate, what we like. We are free to choose what we share about ourselves that tells others about us. We are free to choose to stop a behavior or pattern that reflects on us negatively. Some areas of identity we cannot choose: our race, our childhood experiences, our birth order or story, situations we’ve been victim to, etc.

As a parent of children with different genetic makeups and various starts-to-life, I am quick to tell people how exciting and challenging it is to parent children who are not cookie-cutters of one another, or of me. There are times emotions or patterns surface and we sit looking at one another thinking “where in the world did that come from?” Children who are abandoned, removed, fostered, adopted, they all carry with them a trauma of sorts, an issue I’ll likely come back to another day, and there are times they act out of those experiences without realizing it. Beyond that, we can attest that children with the same biological parents, without any infancy trauma or experience with removal, can absolutely be different. I am sure many of you see this in your children: they are not the same just because they came from you. Their identity is their own. Sometimes for better or worse. It is part of our job as parents to teach them to be aware of themselves and what they’re putting out into the world. It’s part of the privilege of parenting to help them become who they want to be, to help them foster the parts of their identity that matter to them and improve the parts that they’d like to change. What an honor!

I put to you this challenge this week: identify your identity. Make a list in your journal, on your phone notes, on the back of an envelope, whatever works for you as you chase all those kids around, that which you believe represents who you are. Star the things you love about your identity and ‘x’ the ones you wish to improve. Then challenge yourself to work on one area of change. Perhaps consider doing the same with your child: have them identify themselves. Celebrate the parts of them that cannot be changed and the parts that can. Ask them: “who do you think you are?” (As a lover of words and relationships, I would love to be at your table for these conversations!! Feel free to share in the comments your experiences discussing this with your kids if you’re comfortable doing so!)

Long Days. Short Years.

Mothering from exhaustion while finding joy when it gets hard.

Digging into the Past, Emotional Abuse: Part Three

Who do you say you are?