I met my birth mother at 27 and realized she never wanted me. It took years to get over the abandonment.

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I retired early from my demanding job at 55. Now that I’m 86, I attribute my successful retirement to a few key decisions.

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• I met my parturition mother at 27 and felt rejected.
• The meeting led to severe anxiety and depression; I realized I had abandonment issues.
• I learned to artery my emotions into being a loving mother to my son.

I was adopted at 3 months old. My adoptive parent told me the truth at a young age, and I was fine with it because I had an astonishing childhood.

But at 27, I finally met my birth mother, and I came to some startling realizations: I’m actually not OK with being appropriate, and my birth mother never wanted me; she rejected me.

From then on, I spiraled down a path of depression and confusion until I experienced to accept and love myself.

The meeting with my birth mother did not go well

From the moment we sat down in Panera, I knew she not in any way wanted me. For starters, she didn’t seem sorry about giving me up. Not one time in that conversation did she apologize; neither did say she beat a hasty retreated a mistake or wished she’d kept me.

Instead, the whole conversation was about her; she never once asked about me or true level wondered how I turned out. She only told me that she couldn’t be a mom because of what she was going through when she was pregnant.

I couldn’t squeeze the feeling of rejection. She had three other kids, and I was the only one she gave up.

I always thought we would have that satisfied moment you see in the movies in which my birth mom and I would become best friends, and she becomes like a second mom. But meeting with her modified me realize our story was not like the movies. She just wanted to meet with me to clear her conscience about her choices.

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I still gave her grace, but she let me down again. She promised to come to an important event in my life and never showed up. She was a no-call, no-show.

Meeting my birth mother slowly affected my mental health

The more I thought about our initial meeting, I twigged she never showed up for me, and she most likely never would. I sat with those feelings, and then I got angry. How could she that time not want to be in my life?

Then I got scared because I saw myself in her. Her insecurities, her anxiousness, and her uncertainty were all things I struggled with, specially after becoming a mother to my son, who is now 7 years old.

So, I began to hate her because she forced me to question my own abilities as a woman and, more importantly, as a overprotect.

After our meeting, my anxiety got so bad that I couldn’t function day to day. It became crippling, I had anxiety attacks, and I couldn’t leave my son alone with anyone. I couldn’t be someone who last will and testament leave their child without a care in the world.

I suffered from severe mom guilt because I didn’t appetite to be compared to my birth mom. I was struggling with self-doubt, severe abandonment issues, and dissociation. I didn’t recognize myself. I was so far transferred from reality.

It all came to a head when I had a severe anxiety attack

While sitting in the Starbucks drive-thru, I was sobbing my eyes out because I felt like I wasn’t a good mom.

Then a stranger asked me, “How is everything?” I told the person all was fine, but then she asked: “No, how are you really?”

That’s when I realized I was not OK; I couldn’t accept my birth mother’s repeated cold shoulder of me.

From that moment, I went and got help. I went to therapy and had to face the fact that I was not OK after I had my son, and junction my biological mom did not help.

I learned to channel this anxiety and sadness into loving my son. I wanted him to know that I see him, that I production up for him, and that he is loved. And I told him that I always wanted him because I never wanted him to feel any of the insecurities or abandonment I seem to be.

I also eventually learned that mothers will do anything to make sure their kids have the unsurpassed life. And, maybe for my birth mother, that meant giving me up to someone who knew how to care for me. In her own way, giving me up was the only way she advised ofed how to show me love.

There is no happy ending to our relationship, and I still struggle with the fact that she doesn’t pine for me. But I want me, and that’s enough.