My mom did at the age of 12. My dad wasn't orphaned till he was in his 20's. But he lost his mom--and two little brothers to adoption--when he was only 8. I lost my mom in my 40's, my dad less than 2 months after my second wedding. I lost one of my sisters when I was 27, the oldest died 6 months before Mom.

There is something in all of us that wants somebody to take the place of the lost parent, or parents. I have a memory, still fresh and comforting, from after my mom's death. You can borrow it if it will help. My suggestion, though, is to find some experience that does the same for you. At the time of my mom's death, my now husband and I had been friends for over 8 years, and together nearly as long. I was reeling from the death of both my oldest sister AND Mom, and trying to fit into an extremely challenging job that was a poor fit.

The way I was dealing with it all was, in part, by leaning heavily on TLofML, and he didn't like it. I mean HEAVILY. About a month after the funeral, I was on a business trip to northern CA, and had a Sunday to spend in San Francisco. I went to Golden Gate Park, and walked and walked. At some point, I found myself walking down the path in the AIDS Memorial Dell, and reading the names on the benches. So many beautiful benches, and all of them donated in memory of people who had died from AIDS.

It felt right, in my state of mind, to be surrounded by beauty and by reminders of death. The redwoods, especially, were profoundly impressive to me: they were crooked and bent, but old beyond my imagination. I sat on one of those benches and thought about the storms, the earthquakes, the coming and going of humans that they had outlasted. And I realized that I had been trying to achieve the impossible.

I had holes in my life, torn there by the death of my big sister, by the death of my mother. And I was trying to force TLofML into that hole to fill it. But the holes that we suffer, when we lose someone we love, cannot be filled by someone else. My holes were sister-shaped, and mom-shaped. Man-who-loves-me is the wrong shape to fill those holes. So I realized that I had to wait for those holes to heal on their own, that trying to force someone else into them only prolonged the healing process. And I felt a great peace.

It's been almost 12 years since then, and there are still times that I feel the pain of their losses sharply. Hell, my daughter, who was 10 days old when my first sister died, is now 31. I still miss her, too.

I don't know what you need to stop trying to shove men into your parent-shaped holes. But I do know that you need to give yourself permission to let your parents go. Really let them go. You can start by changing your name for yourself. Yes, you are an orphan. But you are also a young woman. You are a young woman with ____colored hair, who likes ____ music, whose favorite author is _____. You do not have to define yourself by what is gone. Let it be part of who you are, not the totality of it.

And, for your own sake, please stop trying to write in the style of Cary Tennis. He sucks at it, why would you imitate him?

go on match.com - specify orphans only.

Because only orphans understand.

My daughter was rejected by her biological parents at age 12. Both signed away parental rights rather than give up destructive relationships and drug habits. She went in to foster care, group homes and failed adoptions. And finally, at age 15, to me. This allowed her to imagine that there were still people out there who, on some level, cared. Except that when she was 19 and went looking, they were no better off than before and still wanted little or nothing to do with her.

I guess the one thing she may have that you may not is to hope against hope that some day, they might just come around. Except, that they might not, and so far not so good.

There is no point is arguing over who hurts the most, or has the most right to be screwed up due to circumstances.

Please don't start sharing your pain haphazardly. One of my daughter's problems has been trying to get too close, too quickly. Again, and again, and again. There may not be group therapy for orphans. But you can sometimes find it for people with abandonment issues. Look into Dr. Linehan's model for dialetical behavior therapy.

Many people can find true homes in church, and there are many churches who have a pretty high tolerance for people who are just there for the company and can pass on some or all of the message. And there are others who have been damaged by church and are better off in Starbucks with a book.

Peace.

I lost both my parents when I was in high school, and I can't say that I understand this letter at all. Maybe I'm not the right kind of orphan or something.

It's funny, I was thinking recently about what, if anything, distinguishes my approach to relationships from people who did not lose parents when young. The one thing I could think of is that I have a tendency to walk away from relationships or be very apathetic about keeping in touch with people after I've moved on in life. I thought that maybe because I got used to losing people early on, it was easier to dismiss people from my life. Or maybe I'm just an asshole, but it's a theory.

In any event, I just celebrated 9 years of marriage last week, and I don't believe that I'm yearning for some special trapeze type of love. I'm good. So, perhaps people just shouldn't generalize.