I was adopted into a white, middle-class family and never felt like I belonged. It impacted how I show up at work.

• Christelle Pellecuer, 46, was orphaned when she was seven years old living in Madagascar.
• She was adopted by a middle-class family in France when she was ten, but never felt she belonged.
• Pellecuer said her upbringing meant she was likely to advocate for herself and quick to leave jobs.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Christelle Pellecuer, a 46-year-old consultant, coach and podcaster living in England who was adopted. It has been edited for length and clarity.

At seven years old, my mother was taken into hospital and shortly passed away. I was left in the care of a French Catholic missionary who lived near my home in Madagascar and sent me to an orphanage. In 1988, when I was 10, I was adopted into a white family in the south of France.

I didn’t speak French, was Black, and was in shock from my mother’s death. I arrived in Marseilles from the orphanage and met my adoptive parents.

For the first year in France, my adoptive mother homeschooled me while I adjusted to the language and culture. Everything was so different: the food, the clothing, the weather. But after a couple of years, I had assimilated.

After completing my A-levels in France, I wanted to go to dance school, but my parents wouldn’t let me. I didn’t feel at home in France, so I went to England to learn English as an au pair.

I went on to get my bachelor’s degree and then my master’s in education and eventually built my life in the UK.

Being adopted has massively impacted my career. I’ve had to learn over time to separate my work habits from my childhood experiences and learned behavior.

Trying to find a sense of belonging at work

I’ve never felt I belonged anywhere or with anyone. To protect myself, I learned to move on quickly, and this pattern has seeped into my work.

I stayed at my first job out of university for nine years. I worked at a research council, helping international university students with funding. I stuck it out for so long because I was afraid to push myself. I never felt I belonged there, but I wanted to help others.

This urge to belong dates back to my adoption. I never felt I belonged in a white, middle-class family and wanted to find it elsewhere.

I was made redundant, and this pushed me to explore career options. I worked in makeup artistry, university administration, fashion editorial, community engagement, creative engagement, and coaching. I’ve been employed and self-employed.

It’s impacted my career stability. If I had planted myself, I think I would have eventually found that belonging, but I never gave it enough time.

At times, I feel like my constant career changes have held me back. Most of my peers who’ve stayed in one industry are directors or CEOs. However, I’m grateful for how well-rounded I am.

Now, I work as a coach, podcaster, artist, and consultant. I run retreats and work with arts and culture organizations.

I’d never advocate for myself

Throughout my adult life, I avoided putting myself forward for promotions or opportunities to advance my career. I didn’t believe in my abilities, even if I was well-qualified.

I remember there was a job opening while working the University of the Arts London I could’ve applied for. I had the required qualifications, but I didn’t apply. A colleague who was far less experienced than I was applied for it and got the job.

Self-worth is fostered as a child when people affirm us. When I was growing up, I never felt validated. No one — not the missionary, the orphanage staff, or my adoptive parents — felt like they were in my corner.

Any time my capabilities have been questioned, I retreat rather than push through because I didn’t learn to believe in myself.

Once, when working with community engagement in 2021, I made a short film. I gave the project everything and was really excited. The director minimized my involvement and critiqued my management. I was crushed. The film was screened but never reached its full potential because I couldn’t bring myself to promote it. I’ve not made a film since.

As someone who was adopted, it was ingrained in me I should be thankful for what I have and content with what I’d been given. It’s another reason I’ve never put myself forward for promotions.

I realized these habits don’t serve me. I’m learning to express myself when necessary but also to rely less on external validation. My beliefs have shifted, and I no longer connect my worth to other people’s opinions.

Perfectionism led to burnout

The only time I clearly remember my adoptive family telling me “well done” was when my school grades were perfect.

Now, I’m a perfectionist at work. It has led me to burnout twice.

When I worked for a university, I worked 15 hours a day, burning myself to the ground to get everything done perfectly. I slept very little, didn’t eat well, and only thought about work.

However, I wasn’t being rewarded for working harder, which made me feel even worse — the less recognition I got, the harder I tried. My doctor signed me off of work for fatigue.

That level of burnout happened twice. I realized a few years ago my approach to work was reinforcing the idea that other people’s needs were more important than my own.

I learned to start setting boundaries with employers and co-workers. My people-pleasing tendencies were hard to overcome, but I now try to stick to my work hours, move outside, have time to meditate, and get plenty of sleep.

I had to confront my negative work habits

It wasn’t until my late 30s that I started to understand the impact adoption has had on my personal life and career. When I was signed off for burn out the second time, I had to confront my negative self-worth and how they played into my work and personal life.

These reflections has led me to the path of freelancing. It was difficult to adjust to not having a secure salary. But at the same time, working for myself has given me the freedom to learn healthier habits.

I’m now working to recognize patterns and unlearn what hasn’t served me. It’s a constant process.