Birthday
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 handful of texts. And that’s about it. Being able to keep it lowkey gave myself the time to just be. It allowed me to feel what I needed to, rather than having to fake a moment of happiness with anyone that called/texted.
When my little sister called me on the day to wish me, I shared with her some of my thoughts. And how I just needed to grieve. She said I deserved to be happy. I want to talk about that for a moment, because it’s something I’ve thought about before.
As much as I know that I deserve to be happy, I’m also not ready to stop grieving. I was never given the chance to grieve and feel sadness about my adoption. To grieve the loss of a birth family, my roots, and my heritage. I can’t help but think about the birth family I lost before I even had them.
I may never know the circumstances of my birth, or my relinquishment. So many unanswered questions. So yes, I am sad this time around for my birthday.
It’s okay to be sad. Sadness is a tough emotion to feel, and to express, because we’ve learned that it is bad. It is categorized as a negative emotion. Culturally, happiness is what we seek, so sadness is rejected.
Like any other emotion, it’s ok to feel sad. I don’t plan to live in it. I don’t want to. But I need to go through it in order to come out to the other side a little stronger, and with a lot more experience in handling it. I need to be able to process my trauma.
I often wonder how different my life would have been if I always knew I was adopted. I'm sure I'd still have unanswered questions, but at least if I knew, maybe, just maybe, I'd also know how to deal with it better. But here I am, 35 years old, struggling with my identity and trying to navigate this new traumatic experience.
Ultimately, my birthday was as I wanted it to be. When asked how I wanted to celebrate, I told my wife I wasn’t sure I wanted to do anything. My emotions were all over the place, and the days were definitely harder just prior to my birthday. So, I told her I wanted to do nothing. Just a nice quiet evening with my kids, and that’s just what we did.
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 handful of texts. And that’s about it. Being able to keep it lowkey gave myself the time to just be. It allowed me to feel what I needed to, rather than having to fake a moment of happiness with anyone that called/texted.
When my little sister called me on the day to wish me, I shared with her some of my thoughts. And how I just needed to grieve. She said I deserved to be happy. I want to talk about that for a moment, because it’s something I’ve thought about before.
As much as I know that I deserve to be happy, I’m also not ready to stop grieving. I was never given the chance to grieve and feel sadness about my adoption. To grieve the loss of a birth family, my roots, and my heritage. I can’t help but think about the birth family I lost before I even had them.
I may never know the circumstances of my birth, or my relinquishment. So many unanswered questions. So yes, I am sad this time around for my birthday.
It’s okay to be sad. Sadness is a tough emotion to feel, and to express, because we’ve learned that it is bad. It is categorized as a negative emotion. Culturally, happiness is what we seek, so sadness is rejected.
- https://www.huffpost.com/entry/its-ok-to-be-sad_b_12031620
Like any other emotion, it’s ok to feel sad. I don’t plan to live in it. I don’t want to. But I need to go through it in order to come out to the other side a little stronger, and with a lot more experience in handling it. I need to be able to process my trauma.
I often wonder how different my life would have been if I always knew I was adopted. I'm sure I'd still have unanswered questions, but at least if I knew, maybe, just maybe, I'd also know how to deal with it better. But here I am, 35 years old, struggling with my identity and trying to navigate this new traumatic experience.
Ultimately, my birthday was as I wanted it to be. When asked how I wanted to celebrate, I told my wife I wasn’t sure I wanted to do anything. My emotions were all over the place, and the days were definitely harder just prior to my birthday. So, I told her I wanted to do nothing. Just a nice quiet evening with my kids, and that’s just what we did.
