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.

 

* https://httpadoptionwilliam.wordpress.com/2016/11/28/to-change-a-childs-identity-is-too-great-a-price-for-a-child-to-pay-when-it-is-in-need-of-care-2/

Popular posts from this blog

Discovery

-
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...
Read more

The Letter

-
On January 17th of 2020, I sent my a-parents a letter. I wrote down my thoughts and feelings that I've been having up until that point. Today is May 14th, 2020. As far as I know, neither of them has read it yet. When I first sent it, my a-mother shared a lot of her thoughts. Much of which were hurtful. But, she didn't read the letter. It would have brought to light a lot of what I was going through. Maybe she would have replied differently. But then again, in her words, "Whatever you feel or think I validate even without reading anything." A month later in February, I sent them a message in the group chat asking whether or not either of them read my letter. I got zero responses. Not even an acknowledgement of my question. Then again in March, I sent them another email letting them know I still wasn't sure if any of them read it. And so, I will post that letter here. If it helps someone else, great. But at least it will be read by somebody. It’s been a ...
Read more

I am Adopted

-
Recently two Adoptees that I follow on Instagram shared posts on what it means to not be adopted. It inspired to me write a new blog post. Wendy ( @wendyfabulous on Instagram) posted an image  with the following words: "Please describe to me what it feels like to be first choice." In her description, she mentions that it's mainly directed towards non adopted individuals. But I still felt it. I grew up believing that I was a "first choice". That I was "kept". It's a very strange place to be when I think of being a late discovery Adoptee. I feel stuck in the middle. And even though I am adopted, I am an Adoptee, because a majority of my life I thought I wasn't, sometimes I feel like I don't belong in that conversation space. And yet, I do belong. I think back to a thought I once had - As a late discovery Adoptee, I feel like I can relate and can't relate to Adoptees all at once. From my upbringing, I can certainly tell you what it’s like...
Read more