Warning: Language
Fuck.
Fair to say that I've broken down at least once a month at this point.
Every now and then, I feel like I'm doing pretty good. And then suddenly the weight of it all comes crashing down.
Learning you're adopted in your thirties is overwhelming. Just so much to process. I feel like there's something new everyday. Always something that triggers an emotion.
On one of those moments when I finally gathered myself after breaking down, I pulled out my phone, and this is what I wrote:
God fucking dammit. Why is this my problem?!
They made the choice. They made the decisions!
And I'm the one trying to pick up the pieces!
I'm the one living this shit!
I'm the one trying to figure out my God damn identity!
I'm the one trying to get my paperwork from some fucking court and who the fuck else knows that has access to it!
I'm the one who got fucked by what was supposed to "fix things" and "save me"!
And they don't want to listen and hear that I'm in pain! I am not happy about it!
Yet I'm supposed to be grateful?
Fuck. This. Shit.
I know that it's okay for me to still be angry about my past, and still appreciate my present. I'm allowed to be angry for all the past trauma. I can be mad at the unfairness of it all. But it is still difficult to not feel something for feeling it. And what
There's no guidebook for this. For being a late discovery adoptee.
Just for clarification, when I say "they don't want to listen", I'm referring to all the people and social views on adoption that don't work in my favor as an adoptee.
There are a couple things that I've realized and come to terms with.
I. I'm okay that I was adopted.
If it wasn't for being adopted, I wouldn't be where I am today. I wouldn't have the life that I have today. And I do enjoy where I'm at. I have my own wonderful family, two great unrelated sisters, and a pretty good life.
I'm okay that I was relinquished. I don't know what issues my mother had undergone that led her to her decision. I find myself wondering if all I am is a reminder of her trauma. But I still would hope that one day, I can see the people that I come from.
Going back to the life that I have today, if I were to walk away from all things adoption related, I would be totally fine.
But that's easier said than done. The weight of adoption rests heavily on my shoulders.
Everyone has baggage. I just had an extra one dropped off unexpectedly when I thought I had it all figured out.
II. I'm not okay that I am adopted.
And what I mean by this is that, I'm not okay because of all the problems that being adopted has caused.
Put it simply. "To change a child’s Identity is too great a personal price for a child to pay simply because they are in need of care."*
Quite honestly, honesty would have made it easier. Not better, but easier. I wish my adoptive parents just told me the truth right from the beginning. I wish they were honest when I confronted them. I wish they were honest now.
Because of adoption, I don’t know where I come from. I don't know my roots. I lived 34 years in a lie.
Because of adoption, I wonder about reunion. I wonder if I'll ever have that. Will that help me process better? I don't know.
Because I am adopted, I know there will be so many other issues that come up, and I will have to learn to deal with it.
I will have to figure it out.
I will have to navigate it.
And it's fucked up, that I have to do all this. It could have been easy. Getting my adoption paperwork should have been easy. Learning about where I come from should have been easy. I don't know what adoption is like culture wise in India. But I do know some of it. Shame and secrecy. I am my mother's shame, and secret. But fuck that. It shouldn't have to be that way.
Bottom line, adoption has made me who I am today. And I'm okay with who I am, as I learn to rediscover what I am.
