Dear Adoption, Why?
Why are you so difficult to grasp? Why must society tell me how I should feel about my adoption? Why do other people believe they know what it’s like to walk in my shoes? Why must I always be “grateful” for my adoption. I am, but I get to say that, not you. I’m allowed to question what life could have been like if I wasn’t adopted. Why do you have such a negative connotation? Why is it ok for people to say “Thank God my parents didn’t put me up for adoption! I was an awful kid!”? Why do you have to be a bad person to be placed for adoption? Why is the decision to place a baby for adoption bad? Why must I feel shameful bringing up my birth family. Why can’t I talk about my feelings about you? I will be judged, and again, told I should feel grateful that I have this life. Can I not question? Is that not a human right afforded to me because I’ve been given a “second chance at life”? Why am I “lucky”? I am lucky, because I am rich in love and family and warmth. But at the same time, there’s a part of me, a gnawing feeling that someone out there in the world is longing to see me, wondering where I am, and if I’m alive. I think of her too; is she alive, where is she? Is it lucky to feel like you are lost, but also found?