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 to be, or at least feel "kept" all the while wondering why you don't truly belong.
That was the trauma I faced. Questioning what was so wrong in me that I wasn't and couldn't be like the ones who raised me.

I thought about how for 34 years, I believed I was with my natural/birth family. I never really thought of what that meant. Or how it compared to someone that was adopted. I wasn't exposed to that. I don't think I've ever had an Adoptee friend growing up.
I just knew that I was different, and from my point of view, being adopted didn't seem like something I would have wanted for myself.
I spent so many years defending the people that raised me. Defending the stance that I was their biological child, that anything else just felt wrong.

A few posts later another adoptee, Lorah (@theadoptedchameleon on Instagram) posted an image with the following question "What is it like to not be adopted?"

And here is the description she added to it:

What is it like to know your family? What is it like to grow up with people that look like you? What is it like to not have to explain why you don't know your health history? What is it like to know how to do your family tree in school? What is it like to enjoy your birthday and holidays? What is it like to feel like a whole person? What is it like to not be rejected when you find your family? What is it like to not wake up with tears in your eyes?

It was crazy that they both posted it on the same day within an hour of each other.
I started thinking about both, and just immediately had to gather my thoughts and put them down.

Going back to Lorah's post, I thought about the questions that she had posed. I've never really thought about these things before. As someone who was raised believing they were a non-adopted person.

So as I pondered over them, and here I put down my responses:

• I thought I knew my family. And now I don't. This so called family was a ruse. What's it like to not be lied to your whole life is my question I suppose.
• I always knew I didn’t look like them. I struggled to find similarities. I would look at myself and wait for me to grow into some sort of image of the man that raised me. I would look for the smallest details.
• I've been using the wrong medical history, and now I get the added bonus of explaining why the history I once provided is no longer accurate.
• I've been using the wrong family tree. The history given to of my ancestors, it's not mine. I don't know my ancestors. I don't know my history. I don't know their struggles, I know nothing.
• I enjoyed my birthdays and holidays. But looking back now, they never felt special. Doesn't matter anymore, because those memories are all jaded now.
• I honestly never felt like a whole person. And never understood why. The face I saw looking in the mirror was ineligible to me.
• I feel rejected now. The person I am was rejected when my the people that raised me tried to change me into them. And it's possible that in my search for a reunion, all I'm doing is looking for the opportunity to be rejected again.
• My tears were caused by feeling so different that something was wrong with my very being. It was my fault that I was nothing like my family. That's a trauma/pain that for the longest time I thought I was the only one who was experiencing it.
  My tears now are for a lot more.

I recently tweeted how there are no successful adoptions. All adoptions start with trauma and loss. The only success in my adoption is that I've successfully experienced both trauma and loss by my adoption.

Ridghaus, another late discovery Adoptee once said in a Zoom call that there's not Olympic games in loss, but losses are different. I think about this quite a bit.

Listening to other Adoptees, our traumas are so vast. My story might seem incredibly traumatic to someone else, while theirs is traumatic to me. But nobody's grass is greener. We're all wearing the same shoes, just walking a different path. We're all in the same storm, just riding it on different vessels.

I have found so many analogies for this journey. I don't know where I'm going with this post. If you're an Adoptee, thank you for reading. And share your story. Share your strength. It doesn't matter how small or great your strength is, together we can ride out this storm.