gallery Dear Adoption, You Stole Me

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Dear Adoption, You Stole Me

You took away my rights.

You put a price on me with your ‘legal fees’.

You took me from my mother.

You took me from my brother.

Then, you gave me a new mother.

And a new father.

You took away my name.

Then, you gave me a new name.

You gave me a fake birth certificate.

And a fake family tree.

You sent me to a new country.

You took away my culture.

You made me a foreigner.

You stole me.

But, I should be grateful?

You made me think that you saved me.

You glamourised my adoption.

You glamourised my loss.

You made me feel out of place.

You made me feel worthless.

Because.. I had to be ‘saved’..

You gave me opportunities.

And made me feel grateful to you  for them.

But I couldn’t live up to the expectations.

I wasn’t the perfect child.

I was angry.

I was confused.

I was sad.

But you trained me well, so I smiled.

Most of the time, I hid the pain.

You made me feel I was being ungrateful.

You told me I was ‘special’, that I was ‘chosen’.

But you made me feel like an outcast.

You made me hurt myself.

You give to the rich.

You take from the vulnerable.

Are you legalised baby trafficking?

You are a safer version of the black market.

You make people think they are helping.

You are not always the solution.

You encourage poverty.

You tell women they are not good enough for their own babies.

You encourage the vulnerable to stay vulnerable.

Sometimes you help.

You gave me a good life.

You gave me good parents.

But you made me lonely.

There was something missing.

I struggled with infertility.

Just like my parents.

This hit a nerve.

Because, I would only feel whole once I had my baby.

My flesh, my blood.

You helped me to help others that you have hurt.

You made me a minority to whom most won’t listen.

Because we should simply be thankful…

You gave me a voice to stand up to you.

You try to silence me.

But instead, you give me strength.

You taught me to be grateful for my loss.

A double loss.

I lost my mother twice.

How confusing.

You taught me that losing those I love most, is unimportant.

That it should be celebrated.

Or just ignored.

So I never got too close too anyone.

Until I had my daughter…

Now I know what motherly love is.

And now I hurt even more for my mother who lost me.

Linzi was adopted from Sri Lanka in 1986. She was raised by wonderful adoptive parents in Australia. At the age of 19 she returned to Sri Lanka. Upon return, Linzi reunited with her biological mother, Babynona and learned she had been stolen from her; not given up for adoption of her mother’s own choice or due to a specific circumstance. Her adoptive parents were unaware of this fact, but did confirm that the woman who handed Linzi over in court was not the same woman; not her mother. Linzi’s mother died in a horrific accident and she has struggled ever since. She is thankful to have found her mother and to have had a short lived relationship with the beautiful stranger who gave her life; her amma.

11 comments

  1. Whether as a domestic or international adoptee, most of us have these feelings of the llama, Push-Me-Pull-You, in Around the World in 90 Days. Thank you for sharing your story, Linzi.

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  2. Most can never understand the contradictions, the ironies, the internal conflict, the dichotomy felt by adoptees, even under the best of circumstances. Even as I write this “adoptee” is underlined because it is not a word that is recognized by a dictionary, a word that does not exist; there are adopters, adoptive parents, etc., but for the children that are adopted, no word, no recognition. As if they do not exist. In the legal system we don’t have all of the same rights as every other person has. We were children, minors, vulnerable, incapable of deciding anything for ourselves at the time…but as adults we are still denied access to the most fundamental legal document of our existence, an original accurate birth certificate. This is not something done in most of the world, but here in the United States in all but a few states this is still the case.

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  3. I was a foster care worker in America for a few years I’ve seen the good and the ugly of the system. I understand your pain
    However you must decide to be happy and not dwell on things you can not change. God has a plan.

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    • bfavorable…
      In Islam anyone who dares to speak for Allah(God) they are in deep trouble. It is called shirk.. and a definite no! no! And how do you arrive at understanding another’s pain? Bah humbug! You no more understand Cyndi’s pain or mine or those who you caused misery to who were involuntarily place in ‘ care” ….
      Allah/God or whatever one chooses to call their creator doesn’t put children in pain, misery or keep them from what is their rightful inheritance. He is not responsible for the misery humans make amongst one another -only humans do that!
      We who have the good sense God gave us have been able to change many things despite others just like you telling us simply to accept…Dissent and resistance and the heartbeat of change in this world. They are the core of freedom from what is unjust-like foster care workers and court appointed ‘parents’!
      You are the epitome of the great wrong done to vulnerable children trapped in this vicious cycle of conscripting children and keeping them from their roots…and stealing identities and relations…
      You go off to your ‘happy place’ if you must, an leave us to continue to attempt to undo all of the harm people like you have done to us…WE SHALL OVERCOM E! Just watch!

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  4. To bfavorable, You tout the “God has a plan”.

    Here is something the word of God says, “As he who takes away a coat in winter and vinegar upon nitre, so he who sings songs to a heavy heart”. Proverbs

    In other words it’s a cold (cruel) thing to do and have you ever poured vinegar on baking soda? (Nitre is another name for baking soda.) It foams up violently.

    Your “forget it and be happy”, is in no way helpful or healing. Work on it, and truly try to understand. Because if you ever did really understand it, you seem to have forgotten what being in that pain was truly like.

    Liked by 1 person

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