Mariel was adopted by gifted parents
Her low-gifted adoptive parents let Mariël (39) know almost daily that she did not live up to expectations. The foster family where she ended up turned out to be her salvation. “I was a lonely girl with a broken heart.”
“I was four months old when I came to the Netherlands. My adoptive parents could not have children and the church helped them financially to bring me to the Netherlands. In addition to financial support, the church also promised spiritual help. 'We are behind this', was the message.
I noticed from a very young age that things were different at our house. When I wanted to play after school, it always happened at other children's houses. 'Take her with you. She can also continue to eat,' my adoptive mother would say to the other parents. As long as I wouldn't cause her too much trouble, it soon became clear to me. She also said it literally: that afterwards she would rather not have had me. I had cost my parents and the Church a lot of money and not live up to that amount. When I was very little, I had no idea of ??the impact of those words. I had been very expensive, I was told almost daily. I liked that quite a bit.”
white macaroni
“My adoptive mother often stayed in bed until half past eleven. By then I had already got up and walked around the house on my own in my pajamas. I didn't always go to school. My adoptive father would take me to work at a sheltered workshop. Then he said I was on vacation. Or a day off. In those early years, the school allowed that. Nobody intervened.
I got clothes from my nephews and nieces, I always looked good in that regard. But there was hardly any food. I can remember very often getting white macaroni at lunchtime and in the evening: macaroni without sauce. In the morning I got at most a slice of slicing cake. I only ate sandwiches when I was at home with other children for lunch. My parents didn't eat or they ate a stuffed cake. I still didn't get a bite of it.
If I jumped on the couch or ran around the house once, my mother would get mad. She didn't like clutter, not even the mess you get on the table when you're doing a jigsaw puzzle. It happened several times when I was making a puzzle, she would run her hand across the table and throw the puzzle pieces across the room. I made a mess and she didn't want that. I was always afraid I would get hit. She could just hit me.”
very lonely
“I was very lonely, even though I had friends at school. When I was seven I found my Indian passport somewhere in the house. I then filled my school bag with some clothes and a stuffed animal and decided to go back to where I came from. I was too young to realize that you need money for that and that you can't make such a decision at that age. I especially wanted to get out of the house where I felt no warmth and no welcome.
My adoptive father tried his best to give me love, but he couldn't compete with my adoptive mother. He hit her out of sheer frustration. And then she hit me again. I was nine when the neighbors called in Youth Care. Initially, the church was called in: after all, they would keep an eye on things. An elder urged me not to be so difficult. I should take better care of my parents, said the man who spoke to me. I did not say that my parents sometimes locked me in the shed for a few hours to get away from me. I didn't dare – I wanted to protect them somewhere too.”
a difficult child
“In the end, Youth Care started social work and it emerged that my parents were gifted. The adoption was questioned and I was placed in a preventive day foster care with two very lovely people with a couple of other children, close to us. Suddenly I was hugged. My foster parents showed affection, something I didn't know at all. I had to get used to that. It was nice in the foster family, with brothers and sisters. When I had to go home in the evening, I was completely upset. I now knew how it could be. Home became even less fun for me than it already was.
In the morning when I was eleven, my adoptive parents told me out of the blue that I was going to live with the foster family for good. Again I was told that I just wasn't worth the money I had cost. 'You are difficult. You are a difficult child," my mother said. I panicked. I had a great time with my foster parents, but I didn't want to disappoint my adoptive parents. I tried so hard to be a great kid to them, but apparently I couldn't. "Sorry, sorry, I want to make it up," I cried. I was so ashamed. I panicked and banged my head against a wall. I couldn't express how sorry I was. The guilt I felt was enormous.
My parents stood their ground and my foster mother came to pick me up. For three days I sat anxiously on a chair and only got off when she went to the toilet or kitchen, then I went with her. I was incredibly afraid of everything; for myself, for life, for what was to come. I lost it.”
Visiting arrangement
“It was a challenge to trust people, because I was sold out by the people who bought me. What if I did something wrong and had to leave again? I started to please and became almost annoying as a result. When it was time to dry off, I was the first to be ready. And without anyone asking, I cleaned up everything. Six weeks after I was finally placed in the foster family, a visitation arrangement was started. In the hour that I was with my adoptive parents, we talked about them. I was never asked how I was doing or how school was. The old accusations soon surfaced again. Again and again I was told how bad and difficult I was.
On Mother's Day I let my adoptive parents know that they no longer wanted to come. "You make me sad and you make me sad," I said. In a panic they rented a car and drove with me, with no purpose, no plan. They wanted to keep me. The next morning the police knocked on the door. I was so shocked that I said I wanted to stay. I promised my adoptive parents to take good care of them. 'I will be sweet', I pressed them to their hearts. Strangely enough, I was allowed to stay for that moment. The next day I just went to school to run back to my foster mother's house in the lunch break, crying hard. That day I stayed at home. My foster mother hugged me, let me tell my story and cry.”
Fall and rise
“Not long after that, it came to a lawsuit, so that at my request I could continue to live entirely with my foster parents – I was twelve years old at the time. I especially remember an enormous sense of shame, also towards parents of other children. No one knew exactly what was going on in my life, yet I noticed that many people had an opinion about it. I continued to find it difficult to trust people. And despite the fact that my foster parents did their very best and offered me a very loving home, I couldn't get used to it. I had not learned to receive love. When I was seventeen, I started a health care course, where you go into rooms. In that time I fell a thousand times and got back up a thousand times. I got to know myself and to develop my own identity. Until then I had only done what others expected of me or what I thought they would like to see. Even then it was still difficult to break through my wall. I met a boy with whom I had a child when I was 21. We decided to go for it together, but the relationship didn't last. We parted as good friends. I was alone again, but stronger and stronger. I developed as a wife and mother.”
only real mother
“I have always maintained good contact with my foster parents. "If you had been adopted by us, everything would have been fine," my foster mother sometimes says. I think so too – I'm sure. I was 28 when my adoptive mother died of a heart attack. A cousin informed me. I went there and helped my adoptive father arrange the funeral. As a mother, I took care of my adoptive father. I comforted him: something that is very strange if you haven't seen each other in years. Less than six months after the funeral, my adoptive father had a new girlfriend. I noticed in myself that the contact mainly gave me unrest. I wanted a steady life and they weren't part of that. I cut ties permanently.
Sometimes I have trouble believing that despite my youth I came out as a 'normal person'. I sometimes doubt my abilities as a mother. The love is always there, but I still feel insecurity every now and then. I still get the best therapy from my foster mother. When I call her to tell her I'm afraid I'm going to be like my adoptive parents, she calms me down. "You're not their biological child, you're doing really well," she says. Without her I would never have come this far, she was my salvation. I see her as my one and only mother.
When I look back on my childhood I see a lonely girl with a broken heart. A girl who sometimes even wanted to die. However, I have decided not to dwell in that pain. You are responsible for your own happiness, I always say. I want to teach people to always look for bright spots, no matter how hard their lives are. And kick yourself in the ass every now and then. I live for two and can honestly say that I am really happy again.”