Early separation, loss, and experiences that had no language You might not describe yourself as grieving. You might even feel uncomfortable with that word. And yet, there may be a sense of being slightly disconnected, unsettled, or unsure of yourself that’s hard to explain. When there’s no obvious reason for these feelings, it’s easy to turn the question inward: What’s wrong with me? Nothing terrible happened. There’s no clear story of harm to point to. And so the confusion lingers. For some people, this is where the difficulty begins, not because something dramatic occurred, but because something important never quite found a place to be held. When Something Feels Missing, But You Can’t Name It Some experiences don’t arrive with strong emotion or clear memories. They’re felt more as an atmosphere than an event. A sense of being slightly out of step with yourself. Feeling moved by things without knowing why. Struggling to fully trust closeness, even when it’s wanted. Sensing that something important is there, but just out of reach. These experiences don’t usually register as grief. There may be no tears, no obvious sadness, no conscious sense of loss. Instead, they can show up as flatness, uncertainty, or a persistent feeling of being “not quite real”. Because it doesn’t look like grief, it often isn’t recognised as such. Grief Rooted in Early Separation Grief is often understood as a response to something clear: a death, an ending, a loss that can be named. But some forms of grief begin much earlier than that. When a separation happens very early in life, before there are words or concepts to make sense of it, it isn’t remembered as an event. It’s carried as a bodily and emotional imprint, more a sense of something missing rather than something consciously lost. For adoptees, this often relates to early separation from the person who gave birth to them, and to the loss of a first relationship before it could be known, understood, or remembered. This doesn’t necessarily register as loss at the time. There may be no awareness of what has gone - only the after-effects of the separation itself. When experiences like this aren’t recognised or emotionally met, the grief attached to them has no clear place to settle. It doesn’t announce itself. It lingers quietly, often mistaken for something else. “If I’m Not Sad, Can It Really Be Grief?” It can be hard to think of this as grief, especially if sadness isn’t what you feel. This is often where self-blame creeps in. If nothing terrible happened… If no one was cruel or neglectful… f I can’t even name what I’m grieving… …then maybe the problem is me. But grief doesn’t require a dramatic story to be real. And grief that’s rooted in early separation is rarely clean or obvious. When loss happens before it can be understood, it doesn’t feel like mourning. It feels like something missing, or like something inside never quite settled. Not Being Emotionally Met, Over Time When a child’s emotional experience isn’t consistently met - when feelings don’t quite find a responsive other - the child doesn’t analyse what’s happening. They adapt. They learn what can be shown and what feels safer to hold inside.They learn not to need too much. They learn to stay contained, capable, or quiet. This isn’t a failure. It’s an intelligent response to what was possible within the relationship at the time. Over time, though, the cost can be a sense of emotional disconnection from oneself. Feelings may exist, but without clarity or trust. Grief may be present, but without language or permission. This kind of adaptation often sits behind that familiar experience of feeling unsettled without knowing why. (If you’d like to explore the idea of misattunement in more depth, including the many reasons it can arise in adoption, you can read more about it here .) When Meaning Begins to Form For many people, the most relieving moment isn’t uncovering a new memory or finding a dramatic explanation. It’s the realisation that what they’ve been living with has a meaning. That flatness isn’t emptiness. That unreality isn’t a flaw. That sense of “something missing” isn’t imagined. It may be grief linked to early separation and loss - grief that was never recognised or emotionally met. When that possibility is allowed, even tentatively, something often shifts. The question softens from “What’s wrong with me?” to “What might I have been carrying?” Therapy as a Place Where Loss Can Finally Be Held Therapy doesn’t need to force grief into shape or make it more intense. Often, it does the opposite. It offers a relationship where experiences don’t need to be justified. Where uncertainty is allowed. Where feelings connected to loss and separation can be approached slowly, without pressure to feel a particular way. Over time, being emotionally met in this way can allow unrecognised grief to settle into something more coherent. Not because the past is changed, but because what was once carried alone no longer has to be.

When early attunement is missing, many adoptees learn to doubt their inner world. This post explores how misattunement shapes identity, emotional trust, and the ways adoptees learn to adapt in order to stay safe and connected. What Is Attunement and Why Does It Matter So Much? Our earliest sense of self develops through the way caregivers respond to us. When a parent meets a baby’s cries, expressions, and rhythms with warmth, interest, and consistency, something foundational happens: emotions make sense the child feels real their inner world becomes trustworthy This doesn’t require perfect parenting, just “good enough” attunement, the kind Donald Winnicott described and attachment research continues to support. But adoption begins with a rupture that complicates this process in ways that aren’t always visible or spoken aloud. Why Misattunement Is More Likely in Adoption Even in loving adoptive families, emotional attunement can be harder to establish. Adoption brings together adults and a child who are, at first, relational strangers. They are learning one another without a shared history, often while carrying very different early experiences in their bodies and nervous systems. The child may hold the imprint of early separation and disruption, shaped before language existed. The adults may be holding their own unspoken experiences, such as grief around infertility, loss, fear of getting it wrong, or the pressure to finally make things work. Alongside this, there can be powerful, often unspoken expectations: to bond quickly, to feel grateful, to create a “happy ending”. Adoption doesn’t happen in a vacuum, it sits within a wider culture that can struggle to hold complexity, loss, and ambivalence at the same time. In this context, attunement isn’t always straightforward. Different nervous systems are learning one another. Both sides may be carrying a fear of rupture - of overwhelming the relationship, or of things falling apart if too much is felt or expressed. When emotional moments are missed, misread, or feel too much for the relationship to hold, a child doesn’t protest or analyse what’s happening. They adapt. They learn what feels possible to bring, and what feels safer to manage alone. (You can read more about early trauma in adoption here .) “I Became Who They Needed Me to Be" or "I Protected Myself First” Adoptees often adapt in different, equally intelligent ways. For some, the adaptation was becoming “good”: Easy Quiet Smiling Low-need Careful not to take up too much space Connection felt safer when they stayed small and agreeable. For others, the adaptation was more defensive: Quick to put up walls Strong-willed Guarded or cautious Angry when things didn’t feel fair or safe Pushing others away before they could be hurt Connection felt safer when they stayed in control or at a distance. From an IFS perspective, these are both protective parts, each finding a different way to keep you safe when things once felt uncertain. One protects safety through closeness , by blending, pleasing, or keeping harmony.The other protects safety through distance , by staying strong, guarded, or out of reach when connection feels risky. Different strategies. Same purpose. Each one formed to help you survive relationships that didn’t fully meet you. Neither is wrong. Both grew from the need to stay safe when your inner world wasn’t fully seen or understood. How Misattunement Echoes into Adulthood These adaptations often continue into adult life, sometimes flipping between the two: Struggling to name or trust your feelings Feeling responsible for others’ needs A strong drive to be “good” or never a burden People-pleasing or perfectionism Feeling easily misunderstood or on edge Pushing people away when closeness feels threatening Anger that feels intense, confusing, or quickly becomes shame Feeling empty, numb, or unsure who you are underneath it all For a long time, these strategies can live quietly inside you - familiar, automatic, unexamined. Then something shifts. Slowly or suddenly, a moment arrives when you begin to wonder why you move through the world the way you do. Sometimes the change is external. Sometimes it’s internal. Often it’s both. There is no single catalyst, only the sense of a door opening, and a question rising: where did this begin? If this stirs questions about identity or a sense of self that feels uncertain, I explore those themes further here . Therapy for Adult Adoptees: Why It Can Be So Healing Therapy can offer something different: a relationship where you don’t have to perform, protect, or manage the other person’s feelings. A space where: your emotional world is met, not dismissed your protective parts are understood, not pathologised your pace is respected you can explore your identity without pressure you don’t have to adapt to stay connected In relational therapy, healing happens between two people, through consistency, curiosity, and care. Over time, being met in this way can allow long-standing protective parts to soften, making space for the parts of you that have been overlooked or hidden so they can be witnessed, tended to, and begin to heal in relationship. You’re Allowed to Be You: Fully and Without Apology If this resonates, please know there is nothing wrong with you. You adapted in the ways you needed to.Those adaptations once kept you safe.But they don’t need to define your future. Therapy can offer the space to explore who you are underneath the roles you learned to play, whether those roles were quiet, accommodating, protective, angry, or a mix of all of them. You’re allowed to bring your full complexity into connection. If this feels familiar, you might like to read more about how I support adult adoptees   here or visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling to learn more about me and my practice.

Exploring the quiet tension between Christmas expectations and inner experience. Christmas is often described as a time of joy, warmth, family, and celebration.But for many adult adoptees, the reality is more complex - not necessarily heavy or bleak, but layered, tender, and sometimes quietly overwhelming. If you’re carrying mixed feelings this season, you’re not alone. Christmas can stir many emotions for many reasons, and adoption often adds its own quiet complexity. Everywhere you turn, there’s a cultural script about how you’re supposed to feel: happy, grateful, connected, festive, together. The UK, in particular, places enormous emotional weight on Christmas as the centre of family life and a time when families gather, traditions are shared, and everything is expected to feel just right.. Why Mixed Feelings Make Sense at Christmas Adoption brings with it a complex relationship to belonging. At Christmas, that complexity tends to surface in sharper focus. You might feel: grateful to be included, but still a little out of step close to your adoptive family, but aware of what’s missing connected, yet also different happy in moments, and unexpectedly sad in others unsure where you “fit” in the family picture comforted and overwhelmed at the same time This isn’t contradiction. It’s emotional truth. Christmas amplifies ideas of family, roots, and identity. It’s entirely understandable that an adoptee might feel pulled in more than one direction, both internally and/or relationally, as the season unfolds. For some, this time of year can also bring up questions about who you are within your family or within yourself. If that resonates, you may find this piece about identity confusion helpful. The Pressure to Pretend Many adoptees grow up learning how to adapt, but those adaptations can take different shapes. For some, it’s becoming pleasant, agreeable, or easy to be around. For others, it’s becoming independent, quiet, guarded, or resistant when the emotional atmosphere feels pressured or intense. Neither response is wrong. Both are ways of staying safe. At Christmas, when the expectations around closeness and happiness intensify, these early strategies can reappear almost without invitation. You might notice: the part that puts on a smile to smooth tension the part that convinces itself everything is fine the part that keeps quiet so no one feels uncomfortable the part that tries to be what others expect Or you might notice very different protectors: the part that pulls away or needs more space the part that feels irritated, out of step, or overwhelmed the part that withdraws to stay safe the part that braces against the pressure to join in the part that says “I can’t pretend, not this year” From an Internal Family Systems (IFS) perspective, all of these are protective parts doing their best to look after you.Some protect by softening.Some protect by stepping back. All of them make sense.Their messages might be different - “Don’t upset anyone” or “Don’t get too close” - but the intention is the same: to keep you safe in a season filled with emotional expectations. And when pretending becomes the priority - whether pretending to be fine or pretending to feel nothing - you may feel a disconnection from yourself. Family Expectations Can Stir Old Roles Christmas, more than any other time in the UK, is organised around family. The expectation - sometimes explicit, sometimes implied - is that families gather, celebrate, and feel united. But for adoptees, “family” is rarely a simple concept. It may include love and  loss. Belonging and  difference. Gratitude and  grief. In this environment, early roles can become active again: the harmoniser the easy one the self-sufficient one the one who withdraws or goes quiet the one who keeps their distance to stay safe the strong one who doesn’t show emotion the pleasant one who “keeps things light” the one who minimises their needs These roles once protected you. They helped you stay connected. And they can reappear automatically when family dynamics tighten around holiday expectations. What sits beneath those familiar roles can be layered - tenderness, frustration, longing, gratitude, sadness, or something harder to name. It’s completely normal for these feelings to coexist. Mixed feelings aren’t a sign that you’re confused; they’re a sign that you’re human. Mixed Feelings Don’t Need Fixing One of the most compassionate truths IFS offers is that every part of you has a reason for being here. Your mixed feelings are not faults to be corrected. They are gentle (or not-so-gentle) messages from your inner world trying to tell you something about: safety history identity longing boundaries connection You are allowed to feel more than one thing at once. You are allowed to feel differently from those around you. You are allowed to have parts that want closeness and parts that need space. Nothing about this makes you difficult. Nothing about this makes you ungrateful. And nothing about this means you’re getting Christmas “wrong”. Ways to Support Yourself This Season You don’t need to have all the answers, often it’s enough to move through the season with a little more gentleness. You might consider: • Naming your feelings privately Acknowledging them reduces the pressure to pretend. • Offering compassion to the parts of you that are trying to cope Especially the ones keeping you cheerful, agreeable, or contained. • Choosing one small boundary It might be taking a walk, leaving early, or having a quiet moment alone. • Letting yourself step back if you need to Some parts protect by pulling away rather than blending in. Giving them space can be an act of care, not avoidance. • Remembering it’s okay if this time of year stirs grief Grief doesn’t cancel joy; both can coexist. None of this is about fixing. It’s about softening. You Don’t Have to Pretend Here If Christmas brings a mix of emotions, or if you feel pressure to be okay when you’re not, you’re not alone. These feelings make sense. They come from real, human experiences. And parts of you have been carrying them for a very long time. Therapy can offer a space where you don’t need to pretend, perform, or hold everything together. A space where the parts that work hard by softening and the parts that protect by stepping back can be witnessed, understood, and met with warmth rather than expectation. If you’re an adult adoptee looking for adoption counselling for adults, or simply a place where all of your feelings are welcome, you’re very welcome to explore how I work with adoptees or get in touch when you feel ready.

When your own history is handed back to you in someone else’s words. Recently, I had the experience of having my adoption records found and shared with me. It’s something I’ve known might happen at some point, but when it did, I felt an unexpected wave of emotion - not just about what was in the file, but about how the whole process unfolded. What struck me almost immediately was how little agency I had. The information was handled for me, not with me, as though I were still a child who couldn’t be trusted with my own story. It brought up a sharp, quiet anger - not explosive, but truthful. What I Expected (and What Actually Happened) I’d imagined that receiving my records might feel meaningful, perhaps even settling. What I didn’t expect was just how shaped the information would be before it reached me. A summary had already been written, with someone else deciding what mattered and what didn’t. That summary was then read to me, line by line. Listening to someone speak my own history back to me created a subtle distance, as if the information needed to be softened or filtered before I could hold it. It wasn’t a memory exactly, but a familiar feeling. That quiet sense of being positioned as someone who needs their story managed gently , rather than simply being treated as an adult with a right to know. And I am an adult. Thoughtful, capable, grounded. I didn’t need protection. I needed respect, clarity, and a sense of agency. Yet in that moment, it was as if the system couldn’t quite see the adult in front of it. I felt handled, not met. The Feelings That Rose Up The emotions were layered and messy, with moments of: anger at the way the process was handled, a sense of detachment , almost as if I was listening to someone else’s story, and a flicker of sadness. The anger took me by surprise, not because it was big, but because it was so clear. Anger isn’t always an easy place for adoptees to go. It can feel unsafe or disallowed . Many of us learn early to turn it inward or smooth it over so we don’t risk being seen as “too much” or “ungrateful.” But in that moment, the anger felt honest. It felt like a part of me finally being allowed to have a voice - a small, steady acknowledgement that something about the experience mattered, and that my reaction was valid. What This Touches in Many Adoptees Experiences like this can activate old emotional patterns:feeling invisible or spoken for , feeling powerless, feeling small, feeling as though our needs might still be an afterthought. For some, it may even stir shame - the sense of not being fully entitled to our own information, our own past, or even our own feelings about it. Having your story summarised and delivered back to you can quietly reinforce the idea that you are someone things happen to, rather than someone who gets to choose how your own history is met. This isn’t about individual workers or one-off conversations. It reflects a wider structure that, intentionally or not, can leave adoptees without a meaningful sense of agency in moments that matter. Reclaiming a Sense of Agency Naming this experience has helped me reclaim some of my voice. I’m not minimising it or smoothing it over. I’m allowing myself to acknowledge how it felt. Writing about it brings a kind of grounding. It’s a way of saying: This mattered. I deserved to be met with respect. My responses are valid. Therapeutically, this is often the work adoptees do. Not trying to tidy up the past, but recognising how these patterns still show up in the present. And learning that anger, grief, clarity, and self-respect all have a place. Sometimes the most important step is simply allowing the truth of our experience to stand. Closing Reflection Accessing adoption records is not a simple or administrative moment. It can touch deep emotional places: the desire to know, the fear of what might be found, the disappointment of how information is delivered, the frustration of feeling managed. If you’ve had a similar experience, your reactions make sense. They’re not a sign of weakness or oversensitivity. They are a human response to something that carries weight. You deserve to be met with dignity . And you deserve to hold your own story.

Therapy can provide adoptees with a safe and compassionate space to explore identity, loss, and self-worth. This post expands on how counselling can help. Welcome. I’m Lynn Earnshaw, a relational counsellor supporting adult adoptees across the UK. Through my practice, Lynn Earnshaw Counselling, I offer a compassionate and attuned space to explore themes such as adoption trauma, identity, and self-worth. In this post, I’ll be reflecting on how therapy can help adult adoptees. Adoption is a deeply transformative experience and while it can, and often does, provide someone with a loving and stable home, adopted individuals may still carry complex feelings and unanswered questions about their identity, family history, and sense of belonging. Therapy, can provide crucial support, offering a safe space for adoptees to explore their emotions, develop greater self-awareness, and enhance their emotional well-being. For adoptees, therapy can be a powerful tool for healing and growth. Therapy provides a space for greater self-awareness, enhanced self-esteem, emotional security, and validation. It empowers adopted people to better understand their past and present, integrate their adoption story, and develop healthy coping mechanisms for navigating life’s challenges. Gaining Greater Self-Awareness For many adoptees, understanding who they are can be a journey marked by a sense of disconnection or confusion. A relational therapeutic approach grounded in empathy, genuineness, and unconditional positive regard, provides a nonjudgmental space for individuals to reflect on their thoughts and feelings in the context of how they relate to themselves and others. In therapy, adopted people can explore their personal history, including their adoption story, and gain deeper insights into their identities. If identity is something you’re curious about, you may like my post on identity confusion in adoptees . This process can help them better understand how their past, including feelings of abandonment or loss, shapes their present self-concept. Through a compassionate therapeutic relationship, they can explore questions such as:  Who am I outside of my adoption? How does my past inform my present relationships and choices? As therapy encourages openness and reflection, it helps adopted individuals connect the dots between their past experiences and present emotions, allowing them to develop a clearer, more integrated and authentic sense of self. Enhancing Self-Esteem Self-esteem can often be a challenge for adoptees, especially those who have experienced early trauma, neglect, or abandonment. The feeling of being "given up" or not being wanted can have a lasting impact on someone’s self-worth. Therapy can offer a safe and supportive environment where adopted people can work through these feelings and start to build a healthier, more positive self-image. A good therapist will offer warmth, acceptance, and empathy, qualities that are essential for fostering self-compassion. When adopted individuals are met with unconditional positive regard, they are more likely to develop an internal sense of self-worth that is not defined by the circumstances of their adoption. Over time, this compassionate therapeutic relationship can empower individuals to see their value and worth, independent of any past trauma or abandonment. Furthermore, therapy can help people separate their self-esteem from external validation. By helping adoptees reframe their thoughts, they can learn to embrace their uniqueness and strengths, leading to increased self-confidence and a healthier self-concept. Establishing Emotional Security Adoptees may have struggled with feelings of instability, particularly in the early years of their lives. For those who experienced neglect, abuse, or multiple placements before being adopted, emotional security can feel like a distant goal. Therapy can offer a safe and predictable space where these individuals can process their feelings and develop emotional resilience. Through the therapeutic process, adopted individuals can begin to build trust, both in themselves and in others. With the support of a therapist, they can learn to recognize and express their emotions, creating a sense of emotional security that might have been absent in their early experiences. The therapist’s role is not only to listen but also to model a secure, stable relationship, helping the individual understand that emotional safety is possible, even if it was not always present in their past. Therapy also helps adopted people develop emotional regulation skills, empowering them to manage their emotions in healthier ways. This emotional security serves as a foundation for better mental health and stronger relationships in the future. Deepening Understanding of Their Adoption Story Adoptees often struggle with questions about their origins, and these unanswered questions can leave emotional scars. "Why was I given up?" "What did my birth parents feel?" "Do I belong here?" These and other questions can linger throughout a person’s life. I've written more about adoption trauma here . Therapy allows adopted individuals to explore these feelings in-depth, helping clients come to terms with their adoption story and making sense of the emotions tied to it. This might involve exploring grief, loss, and even anger, as well as the feelings of gratitude and love that may coexist with these difficult emotions. By developing a deeper understanding of their adoption story, individuals can begin to integrate their history into their overall sense of self. Rather than feeling fragmented by their past, they can see it as part of a larger narrative, giving them the agency to shape how they move forward in life. Validating Experiences One of the most profound benefits of therapy for adoptees is the validation of their experiences. Many adopted people may feel that their experiences are misunderstood, overlooked, or minimized by others who haven’t lived through similar challenges. It can be a powerful experience within the therapy room for someone’s feelings to be not only heard but deeply understood and validated. Therapy can help someone in understanding that their emotions are normal and valid. This is especially important for those who may feel isolated or misunderstood in their personal lives. By validating the unique struggles that adopted individuals face, therapy can help them feel seen and less alone, giving them the courage to face challenges with greater resilience. Developing Coping Mechanisms Lastly, therapy helps adoptees develop coping mechanisms for dealing with the complexities of adoption-related emotions. Whether it’s managing feelings of abandonment, dealing with the pressure of searching for biological family members, or navigating the challenges of blended family dynamics, therapy offers tools for coping effectively with stress. Therapy should encourage individuals to tap into their inner resources and strengths. Therapists may also introduce practical coping strategies, such as mindfulness, self-soothing techniques, and communication skills, to help people manage difficult emotions and improve their overall mental health. If any of this resonates, you don’t have to work through it alone. Therapy can be a space to explore these feelings in your own time You can read more about how I work with adult adoptees  here . To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

Choosing the right therapist is an important step for adoptees. This post offers key considerations for finding support in the UK. Finding the right therapist can feel daunting, and for adoptees there may be extra considerations. Trust, safety, and understanding of adoption’s lifelong impact all matter. This post explores what adoptees might want to look for when seeking a therapist in the UK. Being an adoptee comes with a unique set of experiences and navigating life as someone who was adopted can present emotional and psychological challenges that are distinct from those faced by non-adopted individuals. Therapy can be a powerful way to understand yourself, heal from trauma, and foster better mental health. It is essential that your therapist understands the significance of the developmental trauma resulting from relinquishment. In the UK, there are many therapists available, but finding the right one to support you in your adoption journey requires careful thought. It’s important to understand what you're looking for in a therapist and what qualities or qualifications they should have to provide effective support. Clarify Your Reasons for Seeking Therapy Before you begin your search, take some time to reflect on why you’re seeking therapy. Therapy for adoptees can address a wide range of issues, and knowing what you want to focus on can help you find a therapist who is best equipped to support you. You may also want to think about whether you are looking for a solution-focussed therapist to target specific concerns which tends to be shorter term work or a less directive approach allowing you to be more open and explore things more deeply. Look for Specialisation Adoption is a complex issue, and not all therapists are familiar with the specific emotional, social, and psychological challenges adoptees face. It’s important to find a therapist who understands adoption dynamics and has had appropriate training in this area. Lived experience can also be incredibly valuable. Therapists who specialise in adoption support will have a nuanced understanding of the emotional layers involved in adoption and will be better equipped to guide you through the challenges you might face. A Safe, Non-Judgmental Space One of the most important factors in choosing a therapist is how comfortable you feel with them. Therapy is a deeply personal and vulnerable experience, and you need to feel safe, supported, and understood. Being in relationship can be difficult for adoptees but trusting in a good therapeutic relationship can be amazingly healing. Here are some things to consider when assessing whether a therapist provides the right environment: Empathy and understanding : The therapist should approach you with warmth and empathy, respecting and validating your unique experiences as an adoptee. Cultural sensitivity : Adoptees from different backgrounds may have unique experiences related to race, ethnicity, or culture. A good therapist should have cultural competence and be respectful of your identity. Non-judgmental attitude : A therapist should create a space where you feel free to express yourself without fear of judgment. They should listen actively and validate your feelings, even if those feelings are complicated or conflicted. Trust your instincts and if you feel that a therapist doesn’t truly understand you or makes you uncomfortable, it’s okay to seek someone else. Remember you have a choice and a voice and you deserve to be heard. Qualifications and Professional Standards In the UK, there is currently no regulation for therapists. To provide some reassurance you can look for therapists who are members of a professional body, such as BACP, UKCP, NCPS. These organisations ensure that therapists adhere to professional and ethical guidelines, undergo continuous training, and maintain up-to-date knowledge in their field. However, a therapist may not be a member of an organisation but could still be appropriately qualified. Adoption is not something covered by general therapy training so additional training in this area could be beneficial. It’s okay to ask a therapist about their qualifications if you are unsure or it isn’t clear from available information. Consider Practical Aspects While finding the right therapist is about more than just logistics, there are practical considerations that can affect your experience. Some factors to keep in mind: Location and availability : Do you prefer face-to-face therapy, or would you be open to virtual sessions? Many therapists in the UK now offer online sessions, which can make it easier to find someone who meets your needs regardless of location. Make sure to check the therapist’s availability and whether their schedule works for you. Cost : Therapy can be expensive, and while NHS services may be available, there are often long waiting lists. Private therapy is an option, but it's important to understand the fees upfront. Some therapists offer sliding scale rates based on your financial situation, so it’s worth inquiring about this if cost is a concern. Session frequency and duration : Ask about the structure of therapy sessions. Some adoptees find that they need more frequent sessions in the beginning, while others prefer a less intensive approach. Recommendations and Referrals Getting recommendations from others who have had therapy or from trusted organisations can be invaluable. Consider reaching out to: Adoption support groups : Online communities and local adoption support groups may be able to recommend therapists with experience in adoption. Adoption charities : Organisations like  Adoption UK  or  PAC-UK  may be able to provide resources or referrals to therapists who specialise in adoption-related issues. Your GP or local mental health service : While waiting lists for NHS therapists can be long, your GP may be able to refer you to someone experienced in adoption support. Some therapists provide reviews or testimonials from past clients which might give you a sense of how the therapist works and whether they are a good fit for your needs. Final Thoughts Seeking therapy as an adoptee can be a transformative experience. The right therapist can help you process your emotions, develop a stronger sense of identity, and work through any trauma or relational difficulties you might be experiencing. Take the time to find someone who understands the complexities of adoption and who creates a safe, supportive space for you to heal and grow. Find a therapist that speaks to your heart. If you feel that therapy could benefit you, don’t hesitate to take the first step in finding a therapist who truly understands your unique experience. If you’d like to know more about my approach to adoption counselling, you’ll find details here . You can contact me for a no obligation introductory call to see if I might be the right therapist for you and to learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

Many adoptees grapple with questions of identity and belonging. This post reflects on why adoption can create confusion and how these feelings can be explored in therapy. Part of my “Identity & Belonging” series, exploring how adoption shapes who we are and how we connect. Who am I really? Where do I come from? What parts of me are nature, and what parts are nurture? If you’ve ever found yourself circling these questions, you’re not alone. Many adoptees describe living with a quiet wondering about who they are, where they belong, and how the story of adoption has shaped their sense of self. At times, these questions can bring a deep sense of unease or disconnection - a feeling of not quite belonging, or of being visible in the world but somehow unseen. They can surface at different points in life, sometimes unexpectedly, and can feel both painful and important to explore. This experience often connects closely with adoption trauma in adulthood, which I have explored in another post . The Complexity of Identity for Adoptees Identity is shaped by a combination of genetics, environment, culture, and lived experience. While everyone goes through some form of self-discovery, adoptees often face unique challenges in piecing together a sense of who they are. For many, this can stem from: Missing roots and biological continuity When you don’t share family resemblances or stories that trace back through generations, it can feel as though something foundational is missing. Those shared traits and histories that help others feel “part of” can be harder to access for adoptees, leaving a quiet sense of fragmentation. Unanswered questions You might not have access to your full story including birth records, family history, or the reasons behind your adoption. These gaps can leave parts of your narrative untold, and it can be painful not to know what shaped you before you were placed. Living between worlds Many adoptees describe a feeling of being caught between two identities - biological and adoptive - each carrying their own meanings, loyalties, and expectations. It can take time and care to find a way to hold both without feeling split in two. Feeling Ungrounded and Disconnected Without those clear roots, many adoptees describe feeling unanchored — as though the ground beneath them keeps shifting. This can show up in different ways: A struggle with self-definition – When your beginnings are unknown or uncertain, it can be hard to define who you are. A sense of otherness – Feeling different from both adoptive and biological families can bring an ongoing sense of not quite fitting anywhere. Difficulties in relationships – When you’re unsure of who you are, it can sometimes be harder to connect authentically with others or even with yourself. For some, this quiet disconnection grows over time and can become a source of shame or confusion. For others, it might sit in the background - a familiar ache that surfaces when life slows down enough to notice it. This longing to know yourself and to feel “part of” something is deeply human. It’s also something I explore more deeply in my blog on fitting in and belonging . Navigating Identity Confusion Living with identity confusion can feel overwhelming, but it’s not a dead end. It’s often a sign that something in you is ready to be known. There’s no single right way to explore identity, but some things can help: Exploring and reflecting Writing, talking, or creating can help make sense of the feelings and patterns that sit just beneath the surface. Many adoptees find that speaking with others who understand the adoption experience brings a kind of grounding that’s been missing. Seeking information For some, accessing birth records, heritage research, or even DNA testing can help fill in pieces of the story. For others, information might not be available and therapy can offer a space to process the feelings that come with that. Allowing identity to evolve Identity doesn’t have to be fixed. It can change and expand as you learn more about yourself. Allowing both biological and adoptive roots to coexist can bring a sense of wholeness that’s been missing. Therapeutic support Working with a therapist who understands adoption can help you gently explore these themes. Therapy for adult adoptees can offer a place of curiosity and care. Somewhere to wonder about who you are without pressure to have all the answers. Moving Towards a Clearer Sense of Self Living with identity confusion can be painful, but it doesn’t have to define you. Understanding who you are and allowing that to unfold in your own time can be part of reclaiming your story. You might never know every detail of your past, but you can begin to feel more rooted in your present. Over time, it becomes possible to build a sense of identity that feels authentic, connected, and entirely your own. This is one of the issues I often explore with clients. If any of this resonates with you, you don’t have to work through it alone. Therapy can be a space to explore these feelings in your own time. You can read more about how I work with adult adoptees  here . To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

Many adoptees grow up hearing “you were chosen”. This post explores what those words really mean and how they can shape identity and belonging “You were chosen.” This is a phrase many adoptees have heard. It is almost always spoken with the intention of kindness and love. It’s meant to reassure, to soothe and to be a comforting story offered to children trying to make sense of why they ended up in a different family. And for some, this story works for a while. There can be warmth in the idea that someone  wanted  you and that among all possibilities,  you  were the one selected. But what happens when that narrative begins to feel… complicated? When “Being Chosen” Feels Different As adult adoptees explore their stories more deeply, often in therapy, journalling, or simply through lived experience, the “chosen” narrative can shift. What once felt like comfort can begin to feel like pressure, or even like a cover for a harder truth. The reality is that babies are not chosen. They are assigned or placed. Decisions are made by adults, often with little thought for what it means to the baby. For some adoptees, this makes the “chosen” story feel hollow — a glossing over of separation and loss. For others, “being chosen” brings up unsettling imagery: babies lined up, waiting to be picked. It can echo memories many of us have from school sports — standing in a line, waiting to see if you’ll be chosen quickly, or left until last. That sense of powerlessness and fear of rejection can sit quietly inside the “chosen” narrative, even if it is never spoken aloud. Themes Behind “Being Chosen” Here are some of the feelings that can surface as adoptees reflect on what “being chosen” means to them: Theme How It Might Show Up Idealisation Feeling like you need to be  grateful , or even “perfect”, to live up to the idea of being “specially chosen.” Loss & Rejection “If I was chosen… why was I not kept?” The story of being picked can sometimes bypass the grief of being relinquished. Agency Adoption happens  to  children - being “chosen” can minimise the lack of say an adoptee had in life-altering decisions. Performance Pressure Feeling like you have to prove you were “worth choosing.” This can quietly feed into perfectionism or people-pleasing. This isn’t to say that every adoptee will feel this way. But many do. And often, they’ve never said it out loud, especially if they’re worried about hurting the feelings of adoptive parents or others who love them. Making Space for the Full Story A common feeling can be something like this: “I know they meant well… but I feel like I can’t be angry or sad about being adopted because I was ‘chosen’. I feel guilty for even questioning it.” That guilt is real. So is the pressure to protect others from your pain. But therapy can be a space where  your truth matters most  with no sugar-coating required. Part of healing is allowing more than one truth to exist at once: Yes , your adoptive parents may have loved you deeply. Yes , they may have genuinely believed they “chose” you. And  yes , you may also carry deep grief, anger, confusion, or loss. These feelings aren’t mutually exclusive. They’re part of the complex, layered experience of being adopted. Reclaiming Your Own Language A powerful shift in adult adoptees is the move from stories they were told  about  themselves, to narratives they write  for  themselves. You might choose to reframe “being chosen” in a way that feels more true: “I was placed in a family that loved me and I’m still allowed to feel grief about what I lost.” “I didn’t get to choose what happened to me, but I’m choosing to understand it now.” “I’m exploring  my  story, not just the one I was told.” Therapy can support you in gently unpacking old narratives and building new ones that are more aligned with who you are now. Exploring the “chosen” narrative can also open up questions about identity and I’ve written more about identity confusion in adoptees here . A Gentle Invitation Being adopted often means carrying layers of emotion that aren’t always visible on the surface. The “chosen” story may have comforted your younger self and you may now be ready to explore the story beneath it. If any of this resonates, you don’t have to work through it alone. Therapy can be a space to explore these feelings in your own time. You can read more about how I work with adult adoptees  here . To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

Adoption trauma can surface in adulthood in ways that affect relationships, self-worth, and emotional wellbeing. This post explores why it matters and how therapy can help. Sometimes the impact of adoption shows up in quiet, unexpected ways: a fear of being left, a feeling of not quite belonging, or a deep uncertainty about who you are. For many adult adoptees, these threads trace back to something often called adoption trauma . It is not always visible, but it can shape the way we see ourselves, how safe we feel in relationships, and how much we trust others. In this post, I’ll reflect on what adoption trauma means, how it can show up, and how therapy might help. All Adoption Involves Trauma Adoption is often spoken about in terms of love, rescue, or a second chance, but that narrative rarely tells the whole story. What is less acknowledged is that all adoption begins with a profound loss: the loss of a first mother, a first family, and often, a first identity. No matter how loving an adoptive home might be, adoption itself involves separation trauma, and for many adult adoptees, this early rupture continues to echo across a lifetime. This trauma does not always look like a dramatic event. It can be subtle, even invisible to others. But its effects run deep, touching relationships, self-worth, and the way emotions are expressed and managed What Is Adoption Trauma? Adoption trauma refers to the psychological and emotional impact of early separation from a birth parent. Even in cases of infant adoption, where there may be no conscious memory of the event, the body and nervous system often carry the imprint of loss. Many adult adoptees describe feelings such as: An ongoing fear of abandonment Difficulty trusting others Struggles with identity or belonging (I have written more about identity here and here ) A sense of not being “enough” Conflicted feelings about adoption itself These are not signs of weakness. They are natural responses to early, unresolved grief Fear of Abandonment in Relationships One of the most persistent themes in adoption trauma is fear of abandonment. For many adoptees, the first experience of being separated from their biological mother creates a deep-rooted belief: "People who love me might leave." This fear can show up in adult life as: Avoiding emotional closeness Becoming overly independent or self-reliant Feeling anxious or insecure in relationships Being hyper-alert to signs of rejection Even when these patterns feel confusing or out of place, they often make sense when seen through the lens of early loss. Another layer of adoption trauma can be the quiet impact of misattunement and those early experiences of not quite being met. I explore this further here . Anniversaries and birthdays as reminders Adoption trauma can also resurface at particular times of year. Anniversaries, holidays, or birthdays may act as reminders of loss and separation. For some adoptees, a birthday is not only about celebration. It can also mark the moment of relinquishment. This mix of emotions may bring sadness, longing, or questions about identity. I've written more about how birthdays can be difficult here . How Therapy Can Support Adult Adoptees Therapy can offer a space to explore your story, not just the version you were told but the one you are still discovering. Together, we might look at how early loss shaped your sense of safety in relationships, or how fears of abandonment show up in daily life. Therapy can also be a place to strengthen your identity beyond the adoptee label, and to build compassion for yourself when old wounds are stirred. This work can feel emotional and sometimes painful. But it can also be liberating, an opportunity to reconnect with yourself in a deeper and more grounded way. Finding the Right Support If you're an adult adoptee in the UK looking for support, you're not alone and you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself. As a UK-based counsellor specialising in work with adopted adults, I offer a calm, confidential space to explore what adoption means for you. Whether you’re only just beginning to ask questions, or you’ve been carrying the weight of this for years, therapy can support your healing at your own pace. You can find out more about how I work here . You deserve to be heard, not just as someone who was adopted, but as someone with a rich, complex inner world shaped by your unique story. To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

For many adult adoptees, birthdays can carry both celebration and grief. This post explores why the day may feel difficult and how it can be reclaimed. For many people, birthdays are a time of celebration: a day to be surrounded by love, cake, laughter, and messages from friends and family. But for some adult adoptees, birthdays can stir up a complex blend of emotions - sadness, confusion, anger, or even numbness. If this is your experience, you are not alone. For many adopted people, particularly those relinquished at or soon after birth, birthdays can feel like a spotlight on loss, identity, and unanswered questions. As an adoptee myself, I know this mix of feelings well. Over the years, I have found comfort in celebrating with those closest to me, while also noticing the quieter emotions that birthdays bring. In this post, I’ll explore some of the reasons birthdays may feel difficult for adoptees, especially those relinquished at birth, and share gentle ways they might be reclaimed. The Day of Birth and Separation For some adoptees, the birthday is more than just a personal anniversary. It can also represent the beginning of separation. Even when relinquishment did not happen exactly at birth, the date itself symbolises the starting point of disconnection. It is the day a life began and the day that life was changed forever. A Complication Rather Than a Celebration A birthday may also stir up a sense of having entered the world as a complication rather than a celebration. For some adoptees, this sits beneath the surface as a quiet, painful echo that lingers long after childhood. Rather than feeling joyful, the day can carry an undercurrent of grief — especially if the adoptee has little or no information about their birth parents or the circumstances of their relinquishment. Some describe an unconscious sadness that surfaces each year, even if they cannot explain why. Others feel detached from birthday rituals altogether. This sense of separation and loss is often part of adoption trauma in adulthood, which I've written more about here . Becoming Someone Else: The Impact of Renaming One of the more complicated and often unspoken aspects of adoption is how it can alter the foundation of identity. For many adopted people, birth does not just mean being born. It can also mean being renamed, re-registered, and in some cases, erased. A new name.A new official birth certificate.A new family narrative. This can create a deep sense of confusion or disconnection. Who was I before I became this version of myself? Where is the record of the person I first was? This shift from one identity to another can make birthdays feel less like a celebration of you, and more like a painful reminder of what or who has been lost. These experiences are often part of wider identify confusion for adoptees . Holding Mixed Feelings It is important to say: it is okay to feel conflicted. You might feel grateful for the people who raised you, while also grieving those you were separated from. You might love being celebrated by friends and family, while also feeling a quiet ache for someone who is missing. You might enjoy the cake, the messages, the rituals and still want the day to pass quickly. These are not contradictions. They are the truths of someone holding more than one emotional reality at once. Many adoptees live with this complexity, especially if the experience of misattunement ( more here ) has shaped their ability to process emotions. Reclaiming Birthdays While it is understandable to feel discomfort around birthdays, it can also be possible to explore what might make them feel more meaningful for you. A few gentle suggestions: Create your own ritual, such as lighting a candle, journalling, or walking in nature to honour your journey Let someone you trust know how you are feeling, so you do not carry it alone Celebrate on your own terms and with the people who feel safe Make space for grief and celebration side by side You might even notice the moments when others express love and care for you. This does not erase the complexity, but sometimes it can feel good to let yourself be seen and cherished, just as you are now. You Are Not Alone If birthdays are difficult for you, please know you are not the only one. These feelings make sense in the context of your story. If you are someone who supports or loves an adoptee, it can help to ask open questions such as: "How do birthdays feel for you?" or "Is there anything you need today?" Being seen, heard, and held in this way can make a real difference. Final Thoughts Birthdays can carry a weight that is often invisible to others. They can also be a chance to reconnect with yourself, to honour your story, and to be celebrated by those who see all of you. If any of this resonates, you don’t have to work through it alone. Therapy can be a space to explore these feelings in your own time. You can read more about how I work with adult adoptees  here . To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

Many adoptees spend a lifetime learning how to fit in. But in the process, it’s easy to lose sight of who we truly are. This post explores the difference between fitting in and belonging, and why it matters so deeply. Part of my “Identity & Belonging” series, exploring how adoption shapes who we are and how we connect. Many of us spend much of our lives trying to fit in . We change how we speak, what we wear, or even what we share, so that others will accept us. For a while, it can look like belonging but it feels very different inside. Researcher and writer Brené Brown makes a distinction that resonates deeply with many adoptees: Fitting in means changing yourself to be accepted. Belonging means being accepted as you truly are. For those of us who were adopted, this difference often runs right to the core of who we feel ourselves to be. Fitting In: A Survival Strategy Adoptees often learn early on that safety can come from blending in. We may grow up with the unspoken message that being “easy,” “good,” or “grateful” helps us feel wanted. This survival strategy can be powerful. It helps us avoid rejection, and it can bring praise or approval. But it also carries a cost: parts of ourselves get hidden away. Psychologist Betty Jean Lifton described the " artificial self " as the version of ourselves shaped to meet others’ expectations, while the more vulnerable “ forbidden self ” stays out of sight. Fitting in often means living from that artificial self especially when early experiences of misattunement made it hard to feel fully seen. The Cost of Fitting In Over time, fitting in can feel exhausting. It can create a quiet ache - a sense that even when surrounded by people, we are not fully known. Sometimes that distance isn’t only from others but from ourselves. Many adoptees describe a feeling of being lost inside their own lives, playing the expected roles, but unsure of who they really are beneath them. The strategies that once kept us safe can also blur our true sense of self, leaving us with an inner emptiness or confusion. This is often when feelings of loneliness or invisibility surface more strongly, when it feels as if you don’t quite exist. These experiences can be part of the wider picture of adoption trauma . Belonging: Being Seen as You Are Belonging is different. It is the experience of being welcomed just as you are and not for the version of you that pleases others, but for your whole, authentic self. For adoptees, belonging can feel both deeply longed-for and frightening. If hiding has been a lifelong habit, the idea of being fully seen may feel risky. Yet many describe a powerful sense of relief when they begin to allow themselves to be more visible, even in small ways. Importantly, belonging doesn’t always have to mean family acceptance. It can be found in friendships, in communities, and sometimes for the first time within the safety of adoption counselling and therapy . Why Midlife Can Bring This Into Focus For many adoptees, the difference between fitting in and belonging becomes especially clear in midlife. This stage of life often brings natural reflection. With more years behind than ahead, it’s common to pause and ask deeper questions: Who am I really? What matters to me now? At the same time, roles that once offered structure (as a parent, partner, or in a career) may shift or fall away. Without those familiar identities to lean on, the ache of not fully knowing ourselves can feel more present. For adoptees, this can awaken a stronger pull towards authenticity, and less patience for the exhausting task of fitting in. It can also stir feelings of identity confusion that have surfaced at other times in life. Midlife can therefore be both unsettling and full of possibility: a time to begin exploring what it might mean to find belonging on your own terms. How Therapy Can Support Belonging Therapy offers a space to gently explore the difference between fitting in and belonging. Within the therapeutic relationship, there is room to notice the parts of you that learned to adapt, and also the parts that long to be more fully known. If you’re exploring therapy for adult adoptees, you might find that the question of belonging sits at the heart of the work. Rather than pushing you to be vulnerable, therapy can provide a slow, steady environment where belonging begins with simply being accepted in the room – as you are, not as you think you “should” be. If you have spent much of your life fitting in, you are not alone. Many adoptees share this experience. Fitting in, belonging, and identity are common themes in adoption counselling. Therapy for adult adoptees can help you gently explore these experiences. Belonging is possible, even if it takes time and gentle steps. If any of this resonates with you, you can read more about how I work with adult adoptees  here . To learn more about me and my practice, you’re welcome to visit  Lynn Earnshaw Counselling .

How the silence around adoption can create shame, and how connection helps it heal. For many adopted people, shame can live quietly inside us. Not because we have done anything wrong, but because somewhere along the way, we learned that parts of who we are might need to stay hidden. Adoption has often been surrounded by silence and secrecy. Files sealed, stories half-told, questions quietly discouraged. Many of us grew up sensing there were things we were not meant to ask, and that some truths, including our own feelings, might be best left unspoken. That kind of secrecy shapes us. It can teach us to manage other people’s comfort, to protect those around us from our curiosity or pain, and to keep what hurts most deeply tucked safely away. Shame grows well in silence. And for adoptees, that silence can start early. Carrying Shame That Was Never Ours Shame is deeply relational. It does not come from nowhere. It develops when our need for connection meets misattunement, misunderstanding, or absence. When a baby loses the person they are wired to attach to, the loss cannot be understood as circumstance. It is felt in the body as I caused this. Even though none of this is conscious, the nervous system learns, something about me must be wrong. That message can settle deep, shaping how we see ourselves and how we relate to others. Many adoptees speak of growing up with a sense of being different or “other”, without knowing quite why. Some of this comes from misattunement — moments when our inner experience was not mirrored back accurately. Perhaps caregivers were loving but could not fully understand the intensity of our feelings. Or maybe we learned that strong emotion led to disconnection. In those early patterns, shame often finds a home. The sense of secrecy is not only emotional, but also written into the world around us. For many adoptees, the truth of our beginnings was kept from us or locked away in records we could not access. When our stories are hidden, it reinforces the idea that we must be hidden too. The secrecy surrounding adoption becomes something we carry inside us, an unspoken lesson that some parts of us are best left unseen. Often, we learn to carry shame as a form of protection. If we can just be good enough, maybe we will not be left again. These protective ways of coping can be incredibly strong, but their burden is heavy, and not truly ours to carry. When Vulnerability Feels Unsafe To be vulnerable means allowing ourselves to be seen. For many adoptees, that can feel like the most dangerous thing of all. Our earliest experiences may have taught us that showing need, anger, sadness, or longing could risk the connection we most needed. Vulnerability asks for trust. But if trust was broken before we even had words, opening up can trigger old alarms. We might find ourselves withdrawing, people-pleasing, or putting up walls without meaning to. These are not signs of failure. They are signs of a nervous system doing its best to protect us. Beneath these protective layers are often younger, tender parts of us that learned long ago that being open led to hurt. For adoptees, vulnerability can carry a double edge - the longing to be seen, and the fear of what might happen if we are. The Healing Power of Connection Therapy can offer something different - not a quick fix for shame, but a space where it can begin to soften. The relationship itself becomes the work. To be met with care, especially in the moments you feel least deserving of it, can touch something deep inside. When another person stays with you in your truth rather than turning away, the body begins to learn that it’s safe to be seen. Bit by bit, the old tension of shame can start to ease. The parts of you that have worked so hard to keep you safe may begin to relax, allowing what’s been hidden to emerge into the light of connection. Relational therapy invites this kind of meeting. It isn’t about being analysed or repaired, but about being understood, held, and gently witnessed. In that steady presence, a new message begins to take root, that you can be as you are and still belong. As those hidden places are met with compassion instead of judgement, it becomes possible to see that the shame you’ve carried never truly belonged to you. It was shaped by loss, by secrecy, by the absence of someone who could hold what was too much to hold alone. Turning Toward Ourselves with Compassion Shame tells us we are alone. Connection helps us find our way back to others, and to ourselves. If you notice shame or the urge to hide, try to meet it with curiosity. That reaction is not a flaw. It is a part of you that once learned hiding was safer than being seen. You do not need to force openness or push yourself into vulnerability before you are ready. Healing happens at the pace of safety. Through connection, whether with a trusted therapist, with others who understand, or within ourselves, we begin to reclaim the right to exist without apology. We can learn to be seen not as someone to be fixed, but as someone worthy of care, just as we are. And perhaps, with time, we find that what once felt unbearable to share becomes the bridge to belonging. I’ve written more about how this shows up in real life - particularly in the experience of receiving my adoption records .