After announcing to others “I’m adopted,” I’ve received a variety of reactions. I’ve had inquisitive, surprised eyes pierce into me; I’ve had shocked gazes that have people taken aback. Typically—no matter the look someone gives me—the first words out of their mouth are something along the lines of “no way” or “woah, seriously?!?” Following my confirming nod, they’ll usually fumble through a series of awkwardly-phrased questions.
“So, er…when did you, you know…find out?”
“Wow, so, where are you from—I mean, are you from the not United States? Er…you know.”
“Do you know who your real parents are?”
“Are you sad? Doesn’t it make you, I dunno, mad or something because they gave you up?”
Personally, I love answering others’ questions about my adoption. It’s their intrigue coupled with unfamiliarity on the topic that makes me excited to discuss my experience. Despite my enjoyment of supplementing the answers to these questions, there’s not enough time for me to explain the rationale behind my responses.
There are also certain expectations that people have surrounding adoption. Now is the time to tell everyone what I'd like them to know, once and for all.
Everyone’s Experience is Different.
I’m sure there are other adoptees out there who can agree with the things I wish people knew about adoption, just as I am sure there are adoptees who can’t agree. It’s imperative that people know that each adoptee has their own unique adoption story. Some may be more open to discussing it, while others may not willingly talk about it or feel the need to. This list covers a small range of truths regarding adoption, specifically domestic adoption in the United States. Not everything on this list is applicable to everyone.
Simply put: be respectful of other adoptees' experiences and feelings.
My “Real” Parents are Not My Birth Parents.
Firstly, there are no such things as “fake” parents.
I completely get what you’re trying to ask, but the wording is, frankly, silly. I have my parents, just like you, who I call mom and dad. They are the ones who have raised me, fed me, and clothed me. I also have my birth parents, who I just call by their first names. They are the ones who literally created me.
People often hope that I have an interesting or scandalous story surrounding my birth family. Was I placed because my birth mother was a drug addict? No. Is my birth father in prison? Not that I'm aware of. Do you hate your birth parents? (To some, this is surprising,) no. Expectations are set in place that I'm supposed to have a heart-wrenching past with my biological family. Sorry to disappoint!
I Don't Know My Genetic Code, and Please Don't Make Me Draw a Family Tree.
I am tiny.
I stand proudly at 4 feet 11 inches tall. Because of my height, I am usually asked if my parents were short, too.
Gee, I wish I knew.
I am lucky that I know at least half of my family background, (my birth mother,) but not knowing the other half is slightly nerve-wracking. Some "adoptees" know nothing about their medical past or genetic make-up. This is why I often loathed "family tree" projects in grade school. It's frustrating to try and create something that isn't there.
There have also been times where I've been asked to "prove" that I am adopted. I just am. I don't know how else to show it; being adopted is a part of who I am. It's something that I'm proud of, even though I can't always show it.
Yes, I Was Born Here.
Apparently, being adopted automatically insinuates that you were born in a different country. There seems to be a large disbelief that children can be adopted from the United States. At the least, it is always an afterthought once countries such as Russia, Ukraine, Poland, or China (yes, I have been asked if I was adopted from China,) have been listed off.
The assumption that all adopted children come from overseas is vexing. Why can't children in the United States be adopted? Is it because all adoptees come from cold, deplorable conditions? Because that's just false. Perhaps it would make for a more exciting story if I was adopted from Europe? Unfortunately, folks, I'm a native Pittsburgher. Sorry.
Adoption is Not Always Glamorous.
As much as I value and advocate for adoption, it hasn’t always been a picture-perfect experience. Some believe that adoption holds nothing but positives, or that adoptive parents deserve an award for such a "humanitarian effort." Meanwhile, adoption does hold negative facets to it. There have been moments throughout my life where it has made me feel isolated and alone. Flipping through photo albums, admiring how much one relative looks like another, reminiscing on baby showers and sonogram pictures are experiences many of us get to have.
While I do have photos, my story of coming into my family is different, and it’s not always fun to be different. Being pointed out as the "adopted kid" or the "girl who was an orphan" can cut deep, as it separates me from everyone else. Adoption is challenging, even if it may not seem that way at a first glance.
No, I am Not Mad.
And No, I Was Not Unwanted.
While some hold adoption to be a means of "fixing" children who are placed for adoption, it also appears that many people hold a belief that being adopted constitutes that we hold innate, permanent feelings of neglect, despondence, and resentment. This could not be further from the truth.
I can’t lie and say that I’ve never felt strong, negative emotions towards my adoption. As mentioned, there have been times where I have been frustrated or sad with it. Yes, there have been times where I wished I could’ve been born and not adopted “like everyone else.” I’ve had moments where I’ve longed to not be ostracized by classmates. I’ve hoped that people wouldn’t ask so many questions. Heck, I've even had looming questions of my own that have never been answered. They may never be answered.
But, from the bottom of my heart, I wouldn’t ask for any part of my life to be different.
Just because I was placed for adoption does not mean I was unloved or unwanted; it was quite the opposite. I was not negligently left on a doorstep nor did I float down the Nile River in a basket. I was placed for adoption because of the selflessness in my birth mother’s heart.
Between my birth mother and my adoptive parents, I’ve never felt such sincere emotions of compassion, altruism, and kindness. I’ve experienced the exact opposite of disdain— Love.
That’s what adoption is. It is love.
And that is why I hold no troubles in my heart.
