Good Will Hunting

The thing about being a late discovery adoptee is when you watch certain movies that you’ve seen many times before through the new adoptee eyes, you will see something different.

I just watched Good Will Hunting, first time or this time – what a great movie, right?

Good Will Hunting

Will and Sean

This time, I so loved watching Will and his therapist, Robin Williams, aka “Sean.”  The first time they laugh together when talking about Sean’s wife farting in her sleep was awesome, and the banter they have while Will finds his place in the relationship is inspiring.

While I have been in therapy a few times, I have to admit – there was never any situation as great as Will and Sean’s time together.  However, it is movie magic, right?

What provided some magic for me was that last counseling session, near the end, when Will was told, “It’s not your fault.”  Time and time again, the abuse – all that happened to him, was not his fault.  Obvious, right?  But he kept repeating it, until Will finally broke down.  The first time I saw this, I thought, “How odd… why would he think for a second that all the abuse was his fault?”  The movie guys got it wrong.

This time, at that moment I realized that I had wondered on occasion if my mother not telling me I was adopted was my fault.  Maybe I had behaved in a way that made her believe that my love for her wasn’t real, and upon the “news” I would’ve simply bolted out the door to my first family.   Or as a child, when she should have told me, I would have been unbearable.

When Mother said that I needed to appreciate her more, I did.  Or do more for her, I did.  So it’s not a far stretch to wonder if her controlling me, or the situation, was something I went along with – thus being, “my fault.”

As Robin Williams said, “It’s not your fault.”  It wasn’t my fault either.   While I wasn’t physically abused as Will was in this story, I did suffer from not knowing the truth.   It wasn’t my fault that I was adopted, or that Mother decided to keep my beginning a secret, or that she never told me after all we had been through.  It wasn’t my fault that she didn’t tell me the truth about “me.”

And to other adoptees, it wasn’t your fault.  Most especially my heart goes out to other LDAs, we had something unthinkable done to us and it was never our fault.

I feel sad for her, my mother but I see that all of her decisions are on her, and she took it to her grave.  How very sad.  How un-necessary.  It’s also un-necessary for me to ever even consider the prospect that her actions were, “my fault” – and its crystal clear now.

Thank you, Good Will Hunting.  Sincerely, Good Susan Bennett.