Indian Late Discovery Adoptee

I am not for adoption. I am not against adoption. I am anti-bullshit. I was on Twitter the other day, and I came across a concept that blew my mind. I never thought it could actually be a thing. Ever since I learned about my adoption, the one thing I've always abhorred about it is the fact that I lost everything regarding my first identity. And I lost it all legally. I lost my name, ancestry, heritage, history, and culture. I lost everything I already had when I entered this world. And it was replaced with that of the adopters. So much so in my case, that my adopters never even told me who I really was, or where I came from. This concept of adoption, where individuals lose their first identity is actually called plenary adoption. It erases everything, and it is legal. Adopters not only get parental rights over the adoptee, but also get to pass their identities onto them. In other words, plenary adoption terminates the relationship between birth parent and child. And sadly, many ado...

This pandemic has taken a heavy toll. It hurts. Having just received my adoption paperwork and finally knowing which institution I was adopted from in India, it feels like I'm step closer to finding some roots. However, it hurts knowing that people are dying in India because of Covid. And that the Indian government is failing it's people. My people. Last week I read a post on Reddit about someone losing their uncle in India. They expressed anger towards the handling of this virus in India. And it angered me the more I thought about it and how it affects me. I tweeted the following: Just thinking via tweet. My biological kin are in India. I don't know who they are. Cuz, adoption. Just read about someone losing an uncle from covid in India. Even if it wasn't for covid, fuck if I know how many of my kin are already dead. #fuckadoption — Kris-404:RootsNotFound (@adoptedindian) April 17, 2021 Today I came across the following: Devastating images of patients dying for lack...

On Monday, April 19th, 2021, I filed a motion to order and petition the Texas court to unseal my adoption paperwork. This is something I had been working on, but I just never knew the best way to go about it. Biggest concern being that it might be rejected. I filed it electronically on their website, and after multiple calls with the county clerk for assistance and clarification, I was able to submit my order and petition. Once that was done, I prepared myself for the worse, and potentially a long wait. Yesterday, April 20th, 2021, at 12:09 pm, my phone rings. I recognize the number coming in from Texas. To my suprise, it was the county clerk, and he let me know that the Judge signed the order to unseal it. Holy shit! First off, it was less than 24 hours. Second, I got it! I asked him what was next. How do I get the paperwork, and can it be emailed? He transferred me to their records department to figure out the details, and if I had to pay any fees. I spoke with a lady in the records ...

They did the best they could . This is a statement that people usually tell me after sharing a bit of my story. For the most part, it is with best intentions. But I have issues with that statement, and it makes me rage internally everytime I hear it. That statement sounds like an excuse for their behavior. Their choices, and their decisions. Also, how is it that the best anybody can do has to include lying, deception, and abuse? "One doesn't have to operate with great malice to do great harm. The absence of empathy and understanding are sufficient." - Charles M. Blow, journalist I don't believe my adopters had any malicious intentions at first when they decided not to tell me I was adopted. I've mentioned before that they were initially denied adoption for telling social workers that they wouldn't tell us we were adopted. That decision itself shows me that they did what they wanted to do. even after being told and taught what was best. The fact is, they did th...

I am so frustrated. All I have in regards to my adoption is my Decree of Adoption. With that, I know where my adoption was finalized, and my name. A name that most likely came from the an orphanage or the hospital. As and international Adoptee from India, I don't really know if I have an original birth certificate. I do know there's a Certificate of Abandonment and Relinquishment. My, what fantastic and magnificent words to use for a person. I am certified abandoned. Certified relinquished. At any rate, before trying to appeal to the courts in Texas for whatever paperwork they have, I decided to try immigration first. The first time I did it, I used the USCIS website and via the Freedom of Information Act, I requested my "A" file. Otherwise known as Alien File. I already don't feel like I belong anywhere, and aside from being abandoned and relinquished by my country of origin, I'm also an alien to the country I was adopted into. When I finally got a reply, the...

My birthday was last week. It's still a little difficult to feign happiness on that day. And I still have it hidden on most social media sites that I use in order to just avoid it. It was only the second birthday with the knowledge that I am adopted. I can't stop from thinking that this would have been the 36th one that my birth mother has gone through with the knowledge of being separated from me. This past year, it feels like I keep fluctuating between just feelings of frustration, and straight up anger. So, I started to write my thoughts that night, and here's something I wrote and shared on Instagram : I got a papercut sometime ago. And it was annoying. Although I was hurt , I wasn't hurt by it. It just happened, and the pain was sharp. Every now and then I would accidently aggravate it and the pain would come back. I started to think about hurt vs pain. Hurt is an unpleasant sensation. To me it has more of an emotional and psychological connotation. Pain is just an...

I write a lot. Not all of it gets put out there for everyone to read, but occasionally I'll write a comment and someone will reply saying they would love to hear more about my take on it. One such comment was regarding the Fog. When I first started to read about adoption and figure out what I was experiencing, I learned of the phrase “Coming out of the fog”. It is a metaphor used to describe coming to terms with feelings and realizations in regards to adoption. Another adoptee I follow on Instagram posted a graphic that read, “For many, “the fog” is a survival tool.” And I commented on it, saying, “Coming in from my LDA POV. I feel like there's more than just one "fog". Couldn't tell you how many, or what they'd be called, it just feels like in a way, each trauma has its own "fog" that I'm dealing with.” For quite some time now I have been trying to write about the Fog. I just didn’t know how or where to start. Seeing that post, and commenting on...