I will begin by stating, I am adopted. When deciding topics to talk about this one slipped my mind until a friend shared an adoption story with me. Adoption does occur often and it certainly affects parties involved. I will do a quick share. If you have a story, please comment or email me!
I was brought home to my adopted parents at six months old. As far back as I can remember, I always knew I was adopted. My older sister was also adopted but from a different family. I always felt a little out-of-place; not because of my parents, but societies image of family. Deep down I felt different and alone. I would often look in the mirror, looking at my unique facial structure and wonder about the person it was made from.
I always looked at my family as just that. But I carried around this lonely feeling. I would have nightmares where I would be floating in darkness, alone, with no one there. This dream happened often along with dreams of having my mother dropping me off at a super market and leaving me there. Some may analyze this as symbolic. Though, eating sugar before bed also is known to cause intense dreams. Either way, it was part of my foundation. It separated me mentally from the rest of the world.
Adoption did play a part in molding who I am. I had a pretty open mind since I didn’t know my origins. It gave me the gift of “not judging”. How could I make fun of someone when I didn’t have any idea what I was? I did hate the question “what nationality are you?” I have sharp features and it tended to draw people to ask that. My response always was, “I don’t know, I am adopted.” The look would creep out and a response would simulate like, “o wow, what is that like?” Basically, who knows how to respond to that? I certainly was unsure how to answer it. I would shrug and say, “I have a family so it’s okay.”
I think the emotion from my adoption resonated deep down. On the surface, I would often say, “I’m adopted, so what?” But I did always have an itch to find my blood parents. After college I finally got the courage to ask my parents. I remember crying with my mother in the garage. I didn’t want them to think I wanted to find my mother because I didn’t love them. Yet, deep down I needed to know where I came from. I wanted to know medically about my background and as a human trait, I was curious.
When I was adopted, they were all closed. It was not an easy process, nor cheap. I was adopted from Catholic Charities in Philadelphia. My father had somehow “found” information to help me. The process was irritating to say the least. I had to fork over $400 to find someone who gave me up for free. I somehow find this to be wrong in every sense but I was willing and eager to truck ahead.
The first step, they gave you basic stuff. A file told me the sex (?), hair color, eye color, how many siblings and height. There was no name or anything where I could look her up. The second process was being given anything she gave to them for me. The woman at Catholic Charities made a mistake and gave me the wrong letter. I remember reading it, feeling everything. It was the kindest letter ever written. Only, none of the information matched up with my file. I asked the woman about it, who insisted it was the right one. I urged her to check on it and I started my drive home. I was stuck in traffic on 76, filled with fear, sadness, happiness, let-down, anger at the woman, confusion.. You name it, I was pumped with it. Tears were streaming down my face and my mind was racing.
When I got home the phone rang; it was the woman from Catholic Charities. She told me it was a mistake and to rip the letter up. That was a really horrible feeling. I knew the letter wasn’t mine but I wanted it to be. Months past and finally, I got a call saying my mother wanted to meet with me. This is a cliché statement, but the moment was surreal. There are moments where your body can become consumed with so much emotion you feel like you are outside of your body. This was that moment and it’s very clear in my mind to this day. I made the arrangements to meet with her and counted down the days.
It was a sunny day and pretty warm. I got lost as I usually do. Finally, I found the building and parked. My mind was frozen in a time warp; it was trying to process what was finally happening. All those years of wondering, feeling lost because of not knowing where I was from, and here I was. I had to talk to the woman who had been helping me. Honestly, I didn’t want to say much to her since she messed up my file. I focused on letting that go to distract me. I was taken to the room where my mother was. She was sitting in a chair and stood up when she saw me. Her eyes were filled with tears and she hugged me. It felt warm, and embracing but I didn’t know how to interpret the emotions I had.
The woman talked to us, of course I was not listening to her. She left us alone and it was the strangest moment ever. I didn’t know what to say, how to react, what to think. My mind barely grasped what was happening. She was crying tears of happiness. I couldn’t cry, I knew I was affected by the moment but nothing would come out. My mother told me I had a little brother and sister, followed with a picture of them. This made it more real and exciting. I always wished for little siblings! They were young and it meant I would have a chance to experience their growth. We went outside and sat on the stoop just making small chat. Before we parted, we made plans to see each other again and meet the family.
I went home and continued my day as if it didn’t happen. Everyone asked about the experience and I had no words. It was like having a dream you never thought would come true. I couldn’t get out of this dream like state. I was also afraid to feel back then. The first time meeting the family was intense. I brought my older sister with me to make her feel apart of it. I was excited she was welcomed and had a great time.
My siblings were an amazing sight! It was pretty insane to see people who had your features. Throughout the evening we slowly warmed up to each other. I think they were curious but in the same boat as me. I was scared they wouldn’t like me. They eventually began approaching me to contemplate if I was safe or not. I was so consumed with happiness. My sister warmed up much faster than my little brother. He was testing the waters by running up and then quickly away until I shot him with a water gun. It broke the ice and we played all night. As I was leaving my little brother ran up and gave me a kiss and huge. That feeling of joy still permeates through me when I think about it.
It was a wonderful experience being able to find apart of me. Sometimes it’s weird having so much family. But they always make me feel welcome, like I was always there. My younger siblings are little people with large hearts and great in site. I have to adjust sometimes to being an older sister. I tend to forget how I mimicked my sister. Their love is unconditional and it’s a gift I am grateful for everyday. We all have odd family dynamics and I am lucky to have so many. My mother has a big heart full of love. I love my families. They are both apart of who I am and it’s just perfect.
This is my story. If you have one please share. I know the experience can be scary if you are searching. There are many feelings you will have but it’s a soul journey as is every road we go down in life. It’s the rocky roads we take the most from sometimes. Just know, you’re not alone!
Thank you!
