gallery Dear Adoption, You Said it Was for the Best


Dear Adoption, You Said it Was for the Best

You said it was for the best

But, deemed me different from the rest

Removed me from my mother’s breast

Placed me in another’s nest

I held value when I was born

But, lost it all when I felt torn

Simply a doll to adorn

Forbidden to mourn

You promised what I could not deliver

Breaking the hearts of my caregivers

Alone to shiver

Like Moses floating down the Nile River

At the heart of all was money

But, you lied, and made it sound so sunny

They laugh like what I say is funny

But my words are as rich as honey

An empire built on theft and evil

Causing supreme upheaval

Ghastlier than the era of medieval

It’s time for our civil rights retrieval

You said I would have a dad and a mom

But, I was a fool to believe that psalm

As though you see the future, like you read my palm

But, you just expect me to stay calm

You said I would be financially secure

Pluck me from poverty, like a savior

Said I was a blank slate on your brochure

The wealthy adopters, we must reassure

What I say consumes you with fear

You run a billion-dollar empire as a career

I will not adhere

I will persevere

Sealed records is a civil rights infraction

But, it gives you satisfaction

You don’t want us to take action

Because it will cut your paycheck in a fraction

But, here we are, and united we stand

Louder than a marching band

You’re sinking quicker than quicksand

Trying to protect your brand

The children are the last you serve

Families, you don’t preserve

Turning a blind eye to the suffering you observe

Agitates my every nerve

See, placing children in need is not an issue

It’s when you purposefully search for children to reissue

But, leaving behind their brothers and sisters

Fighting for this business to continue

Coercing women to give up their babies

Threats and manipulations made on the daily

She must be going crazy

That birth-mother lady

You start off that way, assigning titles

It’s the same vicious cycle

Before the baby’s arrival

She’s just a victim to recycle

Another woman is crying

They want a baby, they’re trying

But you say, get to buying

$40,000, they’re supplying

You say, she’ll be just like you

Fit like a corkscrew

But then, she grew

And the similarities were few

But, it’s not you who chose to lie

It’s the child who can’t supply

Now, do you hear our battle cry?

Will you become our ally?

Cristy was born Tiffany Lynn and purchased through a black market attorney to fulfill the dreams of parents who were not prepared to parent a child with trauma. Not only had they not dealt with issues regarding infertility, but they failed to process the trauma of losing a potential adoptive son at birth. Less than a month after his passing, the agency was working on getting Cristy for them. Cristy was dealing with the trauma of the primal wound, with absolutely no chance to thrive because her caretakers were also going through trauma. Her life as a child revolved around her mothers needs. After her parents divorced, her mothers sole focus in life became Cristy. This was incredibly unhealthy as she was never allowed to establish an identity outside of her. At the age of 18, Cristy was told the truth about who she was; the truth about her being adopted came out in a fight. She started looking for support. In her most vulnerable state, Cristy found her strength, and wrote: Why Aren’t You Like Me: The Brochure Said You Would Be. This poem is derived from the last chapter of the book. 


  1. Wow. Like well spun. You write it well. I can only imagine how long you had to chew that all up to be able to make it sound so. Impeccable. Deep. Dark. Bright. Loud and yet soft. Like a knife sharp as a razor. Like slap on the face to a mad man. Well done. I stand with you. Beside you. And behind you. Xo. Sister.


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