Moorings Official Yanked

While I have not gone on a witch hunt and accused my friends and family of harassing my daughter, the event has clearly stayed with me. I had a hard time sleeping last night and have been mulling over it all day today. I have thought about who would do such things and why my daughter assumed it was me.

While many expressed shock at it, I have to tell you, I was not shocked. I have seen some pretty awful things said and done via the internet, many by people I once thought of as friends. My friend Sandy comments that she was speechless and remarked that’s a big deal for her. (LOL. Sandy is high school friend and quite the talker!).  Those of us that have been around adopto-blogging, forums, etc probably did not even flinch. We may have even been the victim of such trolling. I know I have been in the past.

For many of us, adoption caused a tremendous soul wound followed by a lifetime of disenfranchised grief.  Putting aside the fact that there are adoptees in the fog, mothers in denial, happy adoptees, etc. the remaining members are often deeply traumatized. When you add the freedom of internet anonymity on top of that, some of those members take liberties they likely would not if they were face to face. Such liberties can be rather disturbing when you also pile on a low level of emotional intelligence. People project their feelings, experience transference and cast dark shadows onto others.  Additionally, adoption reunion makes some so hungry for that connection they do deceitful things to get their needs met. I know several moms who have assumed false online identities and gotten added to their child’s facebook pages. I know one mother who carried on a multi-year relationship with her daughter pretending she, the mom, was the daughters age and had the same interests.  I know mothers who have assumed false identities as adoptive parents and slipped onto adoptive parent boards. I know adoptees in reunion for many years who blog lengthy, hateful things about their mothers in public and then are stumped when the relationship is not what they wanted or Mommy is emotionally distant. While I have never done these things, I did stand by while others did.  In my opinion, I am equally guilty of those emotional internet crimes. I am a believer in the quote “‘all that’s necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing”.  I did nothing in those circumstances. I stood by, watched in horror, and later ceased relationships with those people. I puffed myself up by thinking by not associating with those sorts, I was better than them.  Was I? Really? I think not.

So what have I done since that hooha of yesterday? Besides thinking too much, I locked my Facebook down a bit. I defriended a number of people that I don’t know really well or have concerns about their views versus mine.  At the present time, I feel a bit unsafe, as if I may have a fox in my hen-house. It is likely an overreaction but for today, I needed to do it.  My Facebook is the only place I DON’T speak adoption. I share personal info about my life, my children, my fiance. I ramble on incessantly about hair color and content management and women’s issues (teetering on adoption in that regard, I realize).  It freaked me out that I have virtual strangers to me peeping in on that stuff. What if some disgruntled online adoption/Facebook friend decided to do to me what was done to my daughter? Worse yet, and for me, more important, what if they did something to my fiance or my sons.  I choose to swim in shark laced waters of adoption trauma and reform. They do not.  I know at least one person was offended at my decision.  I tried to explain but believe I was unsuccessful.  Please note, if you were one of those I unfriended, it says more about me than it does you. I realize that sounds like a lame-ass break up line but it is true.  I am reeling a tad bit from this and feel the need to reassess who I am, what I am doing in adoption, whom I am associating with and what I am sharing.

Consider my moorings official yanked.