Indian Late Discovery Adoptee

This month was my birthday month. While birthdays are reminders of the day we are born, mine is now also a reminder of the day that I was relinquished. As a late discovery adoptee, it’s a reminder that for more than 30 years, I was told I was somebody that I’m not. A reminder that the people who raised me, lied about my roots. And as an adoptee, a reminder that I may never know my birth family. This was the first birthday I’ve spent with the knowledge that I am adopted. And quite honestly, I was not sure how I would be mentally as the day came closer. Reading up on the experiences of other late discovery adoptees and how the first of everything after discovery is difficult, I knew I just needed it to be quiet. Nothing fancy. I certainly didn’t want all the phone calls and text messages coming through. So in prep for that, in this world driven by social media, one of the things I did was hide my birthday on Facebook. And this really helped. No phone calls, other than my sisters. A h

It’s been 8 months now since discovering I was adopted. Since then, I have gone through a multitude of emotions. Shock, anger, and grief primarily. Some days I’m still in shock to the fact that I am adopted. I am no longer a biracial person for starters. I’m now just one race. I have, and am still learning to accept myself as both an adopted person, and a person of one ethnicity. I’m still shocked that the ones who raised me (my parents) denied me my truth. They both lied to me for more than 30 years. They had me believing that they were also my mother and father. All the stories about my birth, nothing but lies. And in doing so, they took away my roots. They took away what makes me, me.  As another LDA put it, "I continually ask - why? Why was this kept a secret from me? Why are there still secrets? Why did my adopted parents, who instilled the life lessons of honesty, truthfulness, and integrity, turn around and willfully deny me the knowledge of my true identity?"