Indian Late Discovery Adoptee

Writing up my first blog post about being adopted has been tough. Not just trying to find the words to put down, but because I wasn't sure how to open myself for everyone to see. This is a path that I knew once I go down, there is no going back. There's no off switch for what is shared. But I wanted, and needed to do this for myself. My first post is as raw as I can make it. I do hope that by showing my vulnerability, it might help someone else. Because, you can be strong in your vulnerability. Well, I started this all off with a simple Facebook post to the people that know me. It read: "Well, it turns out I'm adopted. The past three and a half months has been extremely difficult. I'm typically not one to share the stressful moments of my life on here, but I've decided to share this with everyone that I know. I recently listened to a podcast about adoption called "Born in April Raised in June" by April Dinwoodie. In it she speaks with Darryl ...

I am a Late Discovery Adoptee. This is a term I only discovered fairly recently in August of 2019. I was browsing the web, looking for any sort of answer to understand this crazy new discovery about myself. But, yeah, turns out I'm adopted. And I found this out at 34. Some of you reading this already know me. Some longer than others. For those that either didn't grow up with me and know how I was brought up, or just don't know me at all, let me start at the beginning for you. I was born to a Cuban mother and an Indian father in February of 1985. It was 10:55 pm, in a hospital in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Well, this is what I was told by my parents. I had an older sister at the time, and we were a family of 4. Growing up, I never questioned our parents who I was. They, and by they I mostly mean our mother, shared stories about the day I was born. There was never any question about it. My older sister and I were and obviously still are brown. My older sister however, has a l...