It's hard for a lot of people to understand. And the reality is, every story is different. The reality is, no one was put up for adoption for the same reason. Not everyone wants to know why, not everyone wants to find their biological parents, and not everyone is hurt by it. But yet, it's so difficult for people who aren't adopted to understand what it's like to have that pain.
5 years old, I was asked, "Do you know what today is?" I knew it was something called my adoption day. I didn't know what it was but I knew that day was mine. I knew that was like my second birthday. "IT'S MY ADOPTION DAY!" I would say eagerly, having no idea what it really meant.
5 years later, I understand. It means that I am not a physical product of my parents. I do not hold 50% of my father and 50% of my mother, at least not the father and mother who raised me. It means I look in the mirror and wonder where I got my eyes from. They're a little bit of everything....green, brown, blue, grey.... where did they come from? Doctors appointments when they ask, "Is there any history of cancer or heart disease?" And you awkwardly sit there while your mom explains that you're adopted and you know nothing. That's great right? You don't know if when you're 50 you have an increased risk for heart attack.... or even something as small as your mom was this tall so you'll probably grown to be somewhere around her.
5 years later and you're asked to do a family tree project.... well great.
So I do research on this whole line of people and I'm not even included. Well I am, but I mean....not really.
And then you hit the rebellious teenage years in high school and you're fighting with your fighting with your parents all the time. Next thing you know you're thinking, "Do they even really love me?" I mean you would understand if they didn't...you're not their kid.
You're 20 years old and you're applying for a job and the guy asks you, "Where were you born and raised?" Easy question....but it brings up something you don't want to remember.
See, funny thing. I was born here, raised here. Born in this country, raised in this one. Had this name first, now have this one.
Who are you? It's a complete identity crisis and it never seems to really go away....
So you integrate both of your names.... but wait.... will that offend your parents? I mean, they never really integrated that culture when you were a kid. I mean you have videos and one or two toys from when you were little but.... you never talked about it. They never brought you back. Were they afraid you'd leave them and go back? What non-sense is that?
Screw it....don't talk about it. Suppress it. Hold it in. No one cares.
Boom - depression hits like a train.
Not everybody's story is the same....but it's hard for you to understand when you're not the one going through it every day.
