Trigger Warning: Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Rape, Suicide
Please consider reading my previous two articles before reading this one. They will help you understand this article better. You will find them here and here.
As I started to get my feet wet to learn about Internal Family Systems, the first part of me has presented herself.
I named her Gooddamn Green Girl.
It’s 6:11 am on Saturday, March 6, 2021. I set my alarm for 5:00 am this morning, so I could get up early and do some housework, brew some coffee and write an article about Goddamn Green Girl.
I’m already in tears, thinking about her. I’ve learned on my healing journey; tears aren’t something to run from; they are therapeutic. As soon as the thoughts about Goddamn Green Girl come to my mind, an enormous amount of pain follows her. Anger and rage are at the forefront of my perception. Goddamn Green Girl isn’t sharing her life for sympathy, or for anyone to feel sorry for her. She’s sharing because it’s evident that she’s never been heard or listened too so having the space to share her thoughts is a big deal to her, especially living a life never having a voice.
The IFS model has given her a voice, and that alone is a critical step for her. You would expect for me to start at the beginning, where the core of relinquishment trauma resides for me being adopted. However, Goddamn Green Girl has stood out to me first, as being the soul protector of self, making the most significant impact in my life. If I don’t start with her first, I don’t think I will identify my other parts to follow. To learn more about Internal Family Systems click here.
Goddamn Green Girl made her grand entrance around 12 years old. To read some of her pre-teen backstory, you can visit here. She was rooted in abandonment, abuse, and trauma, and as she grew in her persona, the hardness of her heart grew as well. She discovered alcohol, which was an everyday part of her life, beginning at 12 years old. She never fit in anywhere, not even in her own skin.
Her name is significant to her journey. Her adoptive mom would always threaten she would go to hell for using the Lord’s name in vain, so it made her want to do it more. Trust me; she did it more. She also told her she would hell for dating outside her race, but she never acknowledged Goddamn Green Girl didn’t even know her ethnicity. Dating others looking nothing like her seemed safer to her; at least she knew they weren’t a biological sibling. Knowing she was going to hell made her want to rebel more, and she did. Her favorite color was neon green, and this is why her name is Goddamn Green Girl. She was rebellious, and she was hell on wheels. At all costs, Goddamn Green Girl was a protector, because no one else was looking out for her.
In the deep space of Goddamn Green Girl, she was experiencing the biggest disappointment of her life. She found out she was adopted around five years old, and she set up a false hope that her biological mother giving her away had to be a big mistake. Who would give their baby away and mean it? She believed her birth mother would come back to rescue her, and she waited and waited and waited.
She hates waiting, and finds it to be a huge trigger.
Her adoptive parents divorced, and her adoptive dad remarried and moved away to raise a new family. She would visit her adoptive dad every other weekend during her childhood, where an older stepbrother sexually abused her. Her adoptive mom had always shown signs of mental instability. Before and after adopting two daughters, she showed signs of emotional and mental discord. The home she grew up in grew more and more toxic and emotionally abusive. I will write more about what I experienced in this home soon as I share more parts.
Goddamn Green Girl was sprouted from a 10-11-year-old girl who grew up in an abusive adoptive home, and after escaping this environment each day, she found herself in the streets of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The newfound freedom she experienced was a freedom she had never felt before. She liked it, but truthfully, she was acting out in pain. The reality had finally set in that her birth mother wasn’t coming back. Deep down, she was broken-hearted. No one understood the complexities of her grief, which showed up as anger, self-hate, and rage.
At 12 years old, she was arrested for the first time with a group of kids who burglarized a laundry mat. This was her first experience with breaking the law, and it was only the beginning. She soon became dependent on alcohol to take her pain away, and running the streets was a daily ordeal. She only went home to shower, change clothes, and hit the streets again.
She remembers looking in the mirror at this age and having no idea who was looking back at her. Who did she look like? Where did she come from? This was when her self-hate and sabotage began, and it was a deep part of her life for many years to come. In the back of her mind, being outside running the streets, she had a chance at running into her biological family. She was hopeful that she would find her birth mother one day, and her spirit was never going to be settled until she did.
She became acquainted with a family by becoming friends with two sisters, who took her in as a little sister. Their older brother, who was 18-19, showed Goddamn Green Girl attention, and around 13 years old, She was in her first relationship with him. She so desperately wanted to belong and be a part of a family; most of the time, she never wanted to go home. Let’s be honest; she didn’t want to go home anyway. This just gave her more reason to stay away. She spent close to a year going back and forth between this house and her own, showering and going right back. Keep in mind; alcohol was always available here, and soon, it would become her best friend.
Around the age of 14, she experienced the first physical abuse from the relationship she was in, and instead of run away from the abuse, she kept going back. She thought this must be what love is, right? Why would he go to the extent of abusing me if he didn’t care? At least he didn’t leave me as my biological mother did. The whole concept of him choking her and slapping her showed her he loved her. Kind of like her birth mother giving her away, love always equaled pain.
The abuse continued, and she started to fight back, which only made it worse. They set her up to be raped in an attic at a house party, and they succeeded. She wanted to belong so badly; even after this, she went back. Her view of love was utterly skewed.
When your biological mother “loves you so much she gives you away,” it’s easy to have a toxic idea of love. It’s a mental mind fu*k in itself. They also tried to rape her on the kitchen floor in broad daylight, where someone else stopped them and helped her out of there that day. At first, she had no memory of it because they made sure she was intoxicated first. Later, pieces of these memories came back, and they plagued her mind for years to come. This information was tucked away, locked up never to be told to anyone. Shame took over. After the rape attempt, she decided she wasn’t going back to this house anymore, but it was only because someone else convinced her not to go back. If they hadn’t, she would likely have gone back. No one knew her experiences at this house, and she was ashamed and blamed herself. If she weren’t drinking alcohol, this would have never happened—more deep-rooted hate set in, more profound than before.
Goddamn Green Girl always had trouble in school and could never seem to focus on what was in front of her. Traditional school was not an option as anxiety being around so many other people would make her physically ill. She ended up dropping out of traditional school, and off and on she attended the school for “the bad kids.” The idea of being labeled as one of the bad kids, lined up with her feelings of being bad just for being born, and abandoned by her birth mother.
Badness followed her everywhere she went.
It was in her DNA.
Soon, she was onto the next abusive boyfriend. He had controlling ways, and her mind, that was also love. If he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t care or stay. Love leaves, right? He stayed. She ended up pregnant by him at 15 years old, and she miscarried the baby due to the abuse he inflicted on her. She often wonders about the child she would have had, at 15 years old. She always felt like he would have been a boy. What would he have been like? How old would he be now? This relationship and this kind of abuse was much more extreme than the first if you can even imagine that. She doesn’t want to go into much detail, but he was angry and rage-filled and was known in the city she grew up in as tough, and she was his punching bag. But she loved him, and she believed he loved her, so she stayed with him until she was 17 years old.
During that time, she was a runaway. She was in and out of several group homes, detention centers, drug, and alcohol treatment, and she broke the law more times than she can even try to remember. She hoped somewhere along the way, someone would kill her, but only after trying to take her own life didn’t work.
No one even noticed.
While in drug and alcohol treatment at 15 years old, she was put in a hospital room and handed the big book from Alcoholics Anonymous. It was apparent she needed to get familiar with this book, or she was never going to make it out of this locked facility. One of the first confusing areas for her was the concept of finding God, and that was something she had to do to make it out. She knew of God because her adoptive mom read the bible, read her devotionals, and threatened her with hell throughout her life. Is this the same God? Goddamn Green Girl decided to fake it until she made it out of this treatment facility. Not one time was her root issue of relinquishment trauma, compacted by adoption trauma ever discussed. Just like all of her therapy appointments throughout her entire life, adoption was never addressed.
Goddamn Green Girl hated herself, She hated the world, and She hated everyone in it. Her grief, loss, abandonment & rejection showed up as rage. She continuously provoked physical altercations with others, but her acts of violence on others were actually how she felt deep-down about herself. If her own mother didn’t want her, who else would want her? The more she hated herself, the more alcohol she drank, the more she was arrested, and the more she just wanted to die.
The reality was the pain was so great; she didn’t want to feel it anymore. Where was God? If this was his plan for her life, F*ck him. Dying seemed like the only way out. She just wanted to find her people; She wanted her truth; She wanted to find her way home, to her biological family, because all that was missing from their life had to be her. They were all that was missing from her life. In the back of her mind, She had a tremendous hope that they must be looking for her, and it was only a matter of time until she found her way back home. She felt that ANYTHING had to be better than the abusive adoptive homes she grew up in.
Therapy was a constant part of Goddamn Green Girls life, from the age of 5+. Therapists were never equipped to open the topics of root issues of relinquishment trauma or adoption trauma, so Goddamn Green Girl never worked on the root issues. Around 18 years old, she found herself in another therapist’s office. This time was the first time she shared the childhood sexual abuse from her oldest adopted stepbrother.
She was encouraged to contact her adopted father and her adopted stepmother to share this news. Over the next 30 years of her life, they ignored her and never validated her experience as valid. They never addressed the issue, and Goddamn Green Girl felt ignored entirely, which added further destruction to her life of being invalidated and heard.
Until the age of 21, Gooddamn Green Girl lived a life in the streets while paving a destructive path everywhere she went. What changed everything for her was having her first baby in 1994, who finally give her something to live for when she didn’t want to live for herself. She was up for many new challenges, learning how to be a mother when she never had a healthy example of one was at the top of the list. She was determined to go back to school, graduate and make something of herself. Goddamn Green Girl still shows up sometimes, and she will always be a part of Pamela’s life. She’s learning to acknowledge her and to give her what she needs, which is something no one else has done.
Goddamn Green Girls adoptive mom finally came clean at 21 years old after a lifetime of deception; (lying she knew Goddamn Green Girls truth) that she knew who who her biological mother was. Her initial reaction was more rage, for being lied too. However, she was set out on a new search, to find the woman she had dreamed about her whole life, her birth mother. Alcohol was still her best friend, and it was the only way she knew how to cope with a lifetime of pain, and what has passed and what was to come. From a runaway teenager, to a new mom – she finally had something to live for. Now Goddamn Green Girl was a mother, of a beautiful baby girl. ❤
Now that I (Pamela/Self) have been able to identify Goddamn Green Girl, and acknowledge her part in my life, I am able to sit with her and nurture her which is something no one else has ever done. She visits frequently, in different experiences I have in life, and she’s triggered frequently also. Learning the dynamics to Goddamn Green Girl, and her triggers is helping my SELF understand and make sense of it all. Through IFS, I’m learning that none of our parts are bad, even when much of this article is heavy, I acknowledge that Goddamn Green Girl is a part of me who was protecting other parts of me. And she was brought to life, out of my child and baby parts. I am currently identifying them as well, and they will be shared in the near future.
For my fellow adoptees, have you been able to identify any of your parts? Child, teen or adult? Have you ever used IFS therapy? What’s your experience been like?
The views and opinions expressed in this article are that of the author, Pamela A. Karanova. Reproduction of the material contained in this publication may be made only with the written permission of Pamela A. Karanova