gallery Dear Adoption, I Bloom


I’m a flower. Blooming without roots.

Goodbye roots. Goodbye history. Goodbye forever.

Hello adaptability. Hello chameleon self. Hello new people.

I bloom. I connect.

Hello self. Hello connectivity.

Goodbye things I will never know; the dirt and sun and weeds and love. Goodbye things too many to count or feel.

Hello other things. Hello new things. I’m a flower whose scent is fresh and appealing and charming.

Goodbye life I will never live or know or understand.

Hello grief.

Hello emptiness. Hello sadness that pours out of me.

Goodbye everything I knew and everything I know.

Hello me. Hello bloom. Hello sparkle, glimmer of hope. Hello freshness and persistence.

I am me. Whoever that is.

I am her.

I bloom.

I’m a flower without roots, but I refuse to die, instead I bloom.

This piece was submitted anonymously by a transracial adoptee.


  1. Love this. I’d always heard, “The only things we can give our children are roots and wings.” But I felt rootless, and my adoptive moms criticism clipped my wings.

    Really nicely written.


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