At Best, Unconditional is BS

From a Late Discovery Adoptee (didn’t know they were adopted until late in life) –

Was cleaning out my garage and have made a pile of adoptive family stuff to heave out of my life. Found a letter my adoptive parents’ daughter that she included when sending me the stuff that I told her I do not want. She has never taken any responsibility for her part in deceiving me. She has never attempted to learn anything about the trauma of either adoption or betrayal. Instead she insists she has always loved me unconditionally.

Please.

I see this word used so frequently by adopters and their family members when talking to or about adopted people in the home.

I see how so many of us absolutely hate this language. Hate. It. It’s triggering and often lazy and often used, perhaps unconsciously, to dismiss the feelings and experiences the adopted person is trying to share. The adopter people are feeling uncomfortable, so they whip out unconditional.

I feel like it needs to be added to the list of things to never say to an adopted person. Instead, maybe if the adopters are uncomfortable or feel they need to reassure the adopted person, they could really listen and validate the persons feelings and ask them What can I do to help? What would me reassuring you sound and feel like? How can I help support you? What could I change about our interactions?

I know it’s not just me who thinks unconditional is, at best, bs. Thoughts? Ideas?

An adoptive parent asks – What language would you prefer ? It’s a never win situation for some of us who loved so much, we chose to be there for a stranger’s child as well as our own. Clearly some just choose to be angry at us in lieu of the one that abandoned them. It was a simple question in response to words she didn’t want to hear. I was curious. But clearly some truly don’t want a resolution but choose instead to stew in unnecessary hate.

She replied – it’s not just an issue of language. It’s the intent and the impact as well. Think about this – if I was chosen, that implies that I met some expectation or that they had hopes that I would meet some expectation. Choosing me meant others were not chosen, right ? So then, I fail to live up to any or all of those expectations by say, expressing myself in a way that makes them uneasy. They then “reassure” me that they love me unconditionally. They don’t acknowledge or validate my feelings or apologize or seek to understand. They just try to wave it all away with the Unconditional wand. It’s like shorthand for we don’t care. Or at least, we don’t care enough to actually hold space for you in an authentic way. Just be mollified and move on. I’d much rather be told, yeah, we are disappointed that you don’t feel loved. Or yes, we hoped you would be happy but since you are not, what can we do to be here for you ? Or even, yep, we don’t particularly like you. At least that’s honest.

Another person who was fostered from birth then into a forced adopt at age 10 shares – I was abused by my foster “carer” to adoptress who never really loved me, but I was a good tool to help them have their “miracle bio-children”, once I was in their home. Unconditional Love is a misnomer – it’s easy & lazy to use the phrase, especially when that love is absolutely A1 Conditional. I’m sure as an adopter you now get to own a child that has another history outside of you and your family’s. It is not the same way that my mother was simply and will always be my mother – she was the only one who ever showed me unconditional love – not selfless love, but love without any strings… until she was not permitted to ever see me again or speak with me again. Those were the conditions that a Closed Adoption and a selfish, self-centered adopter and adoption agency made sure would stick for the rest of my life.

Another adoptee noted – Acknowledging their role in my trauma would have been nice.

Lastly from another adoptee – Unconditional love doesn’t exist. Everyone must meet certain conditions for it. But in your case, I think “unconditional” is being directed at you. Because their love for you was conditioned on you not knowing about being adopted. And now that you do know, you’re supposed to act like it never happened ? Definitely appalling disrespect toward you and a betrayal. In general, I find it to be a silencing and manipulation tactic and the opposite of them doing the work of connecting to us, where we are. I never wanted reassurance I was loved. I wanted it shown and it never was.

Birthdays Trigger Grief

This is not uncommon among adoptees. This one discovered later in life that she had been adopted – that often causes feelings of betrayal and distrust.

I am COMPLETELY miserable on my birthday, and with each passing year, the sadness becomes more and more pronounced until it’s debilitating. It is nothing I can control; my mind and body practically go into shock all on their own without any conscious thought on my part. I’m down the entire day and can barely function. I try to put on a happy face, especially for our son because I know he doesn’t understand how one could not see a birthday as a celebratory occasion; however, I am strongly contemplating telling everyone next year to please stop recognizing my birthday, that the well wishes only bring me grief as opposed to gladness. (It’s exhausting thinking of how to deal with the confusion and—for lack of a better word—blowback.) Yes, I’ve seen therapists, and they have been no help. I stopped seeing two of them in 2024 alone, and quite frankly, at this point, I’ve lost count as to how many I’ve seen over the years.

Too Inconvenient ?

A friend who knows I write this blog, sent me an article about a baby stolen from her family in Korea to feed the demand for adoptable babies in the US. However, I have written about that issue more than once. Below that article was another one that caused me to go – oh Wow !!

Here is that story from Slate by Allison Price – LINK>My Sister-in-Law Asked Us to Adopt Her Twins Because She Missed Her Old Life. Somehow, We Said Yes.

Last year, when our kids were 3 and 4, we decided to explore adoption and/or fostering, as we felt like we still had room and love for more children in our life. Around the same time, my sister-in-law got married and pregnant with twins. She had never expressed much desire to have children and was definitely stressed to discover it was twins. When the twins were about 6 weeks old, they all came to stay with us for a weekend to attend SIL’s friend’s wedding, during which we agreed to watch the babies. They ended up texting around 11 p.m. that they’d had more to drink than they’d planned and the party was still going, so would we mind if they just got a hotel room and we’d keep watching the babies overnight? We were fine with it. The next day, when it was 3 p.m. and they still weren’t back and hadn’t answered any texts, my husband called them. They’d decided to take advantage of sleeping in, had brunch then had a few shops they wanted to check out, and thought it was a nice break from the babies.

Two weeks after the wedding, they asked to come visit us again. They told us that having twins was significantly more difficult than either of them had imagined and they were really missing their previous life and the ability to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. They said they knew we were considering adoption and wondered if we would take in their twins. They thought it would be the best solution as they could continue to see them and be involved in their lives (at their convenience). My husband and I were shocked. We spent the next month talking to them about it more and went to multiple counseling sessions with them. I went to the obstetrician with my SIL to discuss the possibility of postpartum depression affecting everything. The outcome of it all was that they didn’t want to be parents and wanted us to take the kids. Ultimately, we drew up a legal agreement, they surrendered parental rights and we adopted the twins.

We absolutely love the babies and feel like our family is complete now, but I don’t know how to interact with my brother-in-law and SIL anymore. I lost all respect for them when they basically admitted that their kids were an inconvenience they wanted to be rid of. (When we asked what they would do if we didn’t adopt them, they said they were considering other private adoption options.) It’s been a year, and everyone in my husband’s family just acts like what they did was perfectly normal. My BIL and SIL have even asked us not to tell the twins we aren’t their biological parents, which goes against the legal agreement we all signed. We plan to be open and honest with them about how they came to be a part of our immediate family. It’s so bizarre to me that everyone thinks this was a perfectly appropriate thing to do.

Asked advice – Is there a way to discuss this with them?

The Advice Columnist said – First and foremost, it sounds like you need to know whether the terms of your adoption agreement are legally enforceable, or whether some of the terms of the adoption can be changed.

How you talk with your brother-in-law and sister-in-law about disclosing the adoption to the twins needs to come from a well-informed decision that you and your husband make. Adoption can mean a lot of joy, love, and comfort, but it can also mean trauma, confusion, and anger. I foresee a lot of those latter feelings for these twins, knowing that their birth parents (who they will presumably develop a relationship with) saw them as inconveniences to be surrendered.

Keeping this important truth from them—one that is central to their identities—is likely to feel like a betrayal once the twins inevitably find out. You need to do a lot of research on open and kinship adoptions to be sure you’re making the decision that is right for your family and these twins; if you haven’t already, find a support group where you can crowdsource resources and feedback. Then you’ll be able to inform the birth parents and the rest of the family how you will be proceeding regarding disclosing to the twins. Make no mistake: No matter who else in the family has what opinions, this is ultimately you and your husband’s call as the legal parents.

It is a bizarre situation you are in—not just the surrender of the kids, but the supposed blasé attitude of the rest of the family. You sound understandably unclear about how you’re even going to maintain a relationship with your BIL and SIL, given how this has played out. Keep an eye on the family dynamics here; while I hope everyone can exude love and grace around these children and their adoption, I worry that this inauspicious start might signal more drama and discomfort to come. I hope I’m wrong, but that’s all the more reason to find a support group, and maybe also a therapist for you and your husband, to help you make sense of this unique dynamic. Good luck.

Unofficially Adopted ?

Many people have discovered that whether biological and genetic or adoptive, there are people who feel closer at heart and in mind with some other people, who are not actually either of those mentioned above. One hears about “chosen” family – not being chosen by hopeful adoptive parents – but choosing to feel like “family” with certain friends, even ones we have never met. I had never heard of being “unofficially adopted” before today but it does appear to be a situation that someone might experience, but NOT adoptees.

Here’s the story about it, that I read today (and this person is NOT an adoptee) – Did anyone else grow up with a highly dysfunctional family but have a friend’s family say you are one of their own and they were “unofficially adopting you”? I had 1 friend whose family “unofficially adopted me” and within 2 years turned against me. Then another friend whose family “unofficially adopted me” for over 10 years before turning against me harshly over something stupid. They built me up so much, only to tear me down worse in the end. I thought they were my family. I couldn’t imagine how it would actually end between me and both friends and their families.

Now I fully accept that my only family are my two kids. I completely cut contact with all of my blood relatives. I love my kids and I love loving them. But I wish I had family to love me the way I love my kids. I’ve had a lot of anger over what my blood relatives put me through and the people who said they were unofficially adopting me. Rage even. The constant reminders on a daily basis from the mistreatment I received by my blood relatives that left me with many terrible internal messages. And the two betrayals from “unofficially adopted family” leaving me completely devastated. It’s taken a lot to not think of revenge daily. I wish the worst for all of them. I’m otherwise a very understanding person. But they will never have my understanding. Has anyone else gone through this or feel this way?

Oh, and my grandma, who was my only blood relative that was truly there for me growing up. I don’t think I should hate her but I started hating her when after 5 years into adulthood I realized she made no effort to be in my life pretty much the moment I became an adult. Somehow I hate her the most out of all of them.

blogger’s note – this does break my heart and I feel so much compassion for this damaged soul.

An adoptee responded – I grew up with a highly dysfunctional adoptive family. I’ve also had to question what “family” means since birth. I’ve never been “unofficially adopted”, even though others have tried to claim the would/did. Nope. I don’t want anything to do with adoption and that includes fictional ones. My family is made up of biological relatives and those I’ve chosen to become legally family with. That’s it. There are no exceptions. Close and long friends aren’t “family”. They’re close longtime friends. This is important enough on its own and we don’t need to pretend it’s something else. Others have already tried to blur these lines for me. I refused to comply with that. Family isn’t replaceable or interchangeable.

Another person with a similar role in the group was compassionate – I think what might help you is to look at rage=hurt. It sounds to me like you’ve not processed your feelings. Discussing this in therapy would likely be helpful. I hear you. You’ve had so many people let you down and walk away, and because you love your kids, you can’t imagine how your family could’ve not loved you with that all encompassing love. And you feel the lack of love. That sounds very lonely and deeply hurtful. When you’re in rage, you’ll push away people who are open to getting close, and you may be less patient or kind than you want to be with your own children as a result. I strongly suggest getting into therapy to process those feelings. I get that – Rage is safer than hurt, but you need to be able to move through hurt, in order to move onto the next stage.

Compassion also from an adoptive mother – From your post I am hearing that you feel alone, you feel angry towards your biological family, you feel angry towards old friends, and you are currently feeling the most angry toward the people that you were closest to. I am also hearing some red flags like “rage” and wishing harm on people from your past. Is this all correct? I am absolutely NOT saying that there is anything “wrong with you.” I am saying that sometimes we get lost in ourselves and forget how to find our support network, and it is helpful to be reminded HOW to know, if we need them, and HOW to find them, if we do. It sounds like you may be calling out for help here. Are you?

Because many in this group actually are adoptees, who are privileged voices – there was more than a little bit of criticism – “Did you really just hijack an Adoptee/FFY PV space, as a mother who surrendered a child to adoption no less, to talk/complain/center your experience about friend’s families saying they were going to ‘unofficially adopt’ you?” And this one – “Being ‘unofficially adopted’ is nothing like real adoption girl. I can’t believe you brought this bs to this group. Seek therapy. That’s the only advice you’re gonna get. For you to even think this is appropriate is beyond me.” Then this, “I’m very confused. Are you not actually adopted…. It is wildly inappropriate to compare the two. Honestly, how dare you. That is just a GLIMPSE of what we actually feel. Reality check for you is – this isn’t the platform for you to talk about this in – and in all sincerity I hope you get help to heal from the trauma of a dysfunctional family…. But again in my flabbergasted voice it isn’t at all the same….”

Also a note of caution from someone who experienced foster care – Some of my friend’s parents were really abusive and would often offer me security and a sense of belonging as a control tactic to be honest. They’re the only ones who “considered” adopting me.

blogger’s note – Maybe the take away is to take such complicated feelings to the appropriate place to deal with them.

Betrayal Trauma and Attachment

Two of my friends have recently drawn my attention to issues of attachment and betrayal. One wrote in response to a self-betrayal graphic – The thought to comes to mind is that from a young age children are likely to experience examples of this when parents are perceived (rightly or wrongly) as not acting in their best interest. The possibility of this type of ‘betrayal’ is then opened in their minds and then acted out.

The other provided a LINK> to a Neurobiology of Attachment pdf and specifically pg 4 re:the infant’s brain. Families can recover from childhood emotional wounds when all members discuss openly the mental conditions of the parents as a regular family health routine… growth & compassion for all. We learned that ‘communication’ could actually happen through the placenta, in which the adrenaline and cortisol that’s coursing through the mom’s veins wind up crossing the placenta and affecting the development of the brain. “Our connections with other people are critical for being able to tolerate and regulate our own emotional responses.” “This sense of connection occurs through nonverbal communication.”

This caused me to reflect this morning on my two adoptee parents who were relinquished in infancy by their mothers into closed adoptions. They both died without knowing much of anything about their origins – which fortunately, I now know quite a lot about the people and circumstances, though clearly with the passage of time and the deaths of all 4 of my genetic grandparents, I can never fully know.

In trying to put myself into my parents hearts/minds and inner beliefs related to their adoptions, how could they not feel betrayed by their first/original parents ? They had no way of knowing their mother’s stories or challenges or reasons including being coerced (and yes, I will always believe that BOTH of my grandmothers were coerced in the 1930s into giving up their firstborn children) that resulted in my parents being adopted. I sincerely believe that no adoptive parent can truly undo this sense of betrayal by the parent in the child they conceived and birthed. In the case of my grandfathers, it is more complicated. Definitely, one never knew he fathered a son and it turns out he never had any other children (it was the same for my mom’s mother who never had any more children).

I’ll never be able to know exactly why my mom’s father abandoned her and her mother (when my grandmother was 4 mos pregnant, nor why he did not come back to rescue her, infant in tow and financially destitute). So, the line above about communication through the placenta could definitely been my maternal grandmother’s mental/emotional struggles without her husband (they were married, in the case of my dad’s parents, they were not – his father was a married man having an affair with a much younger woman).

No matter the reasons, being relinquished for adoption and never knowing why, is betrayal trauma for the adoptee. I do believe modern trends that keep birth parents in the loop or the effects of reunions instigated by adoptee searches are some mitigating factors to the sense of betrayal that, whether they acknowledge it precisely as that or not, exits within the adoptee.

Besides the pdf linked above, I found two articles via google search that may be useful to some of my readers. [1] LINK>The Effects of Attachment and Developmental Trauma and Ways to Heal the Adoptee from the Adoptions from the Heart’s WordPress blog. (Basically, they are an adoption agency). [2] LINK>From Abandonment & Betrayal to Acceptance & Forgiveness: The Gifts of Memoir by Julie Ryan McGue and Judith Ruskay Rabinor at Adoption & Beyond (a 501c3 non-profit child placement agency licensed in both Kansas and Missouri). The reader is welcomed to consider the source when reading either of these.

Speak Your Truth

I got a blog notification from LINK> Tony Corsentino, an adoptee that I now am glad to be able to read thoughts from. He notes people whose lives begin with severance and secrecy need to speak their truth. He goes on to say that secrecy in adoption makes one’s story into contested property, where truthseeking, not to mention truth speaking, can be received as betrayal.

He says the nearly universal expectation is that adopted people are grateful for their adoption—grateful to their adoptive families, grateful for a system that rescues infants and children from perilous circumstances, from abusive homes, from orphanhood. That expectation imputes a form of dependence to adopted people: that of being beholden to their adopters, and to the system that placed them in their adopters’ families.

Speaking one’s truth is an act of self-emancipation.

Often when an adopted person speaks of being adopted as a less than positive experience, their truth is labeled a “poor adoption experience.” The implication is that questioning the justification for severing a child from their original family must come out of the aftermath of a traumatic experience.

When the question is one of rights, the justification for denying people control over their bodies, it is the point. Storytelling is essential to moral argument. He goes on to note – this is true of adopted people who recount their experiences with adoption. I do not know whether to call my own adoption experience “positive” or “negative” overall. I was taken from my mother and given to people who did and do love and care for me. That’s a “positive,” surely.

Regarding his own search, he says “I did not find my birth parents until the fifth decade of my life.” In my own roots search, I was well into my sixties before I knew anything about my genetic and biological origins as regards my original grandparents. My own parents died knowing nothing beyond their names at birth and some sketchy information about one or both parents’ names.

So, Tony notes – “I have reflected on all those factors—the barriers adopted people face in trying to reclaim their original identities, their sense of their place in the world, their cultural and ethnic roots, their family health histories—and I see no compelling moral justification for those barriers’ existence. Certainly no justification for the lack of support for adopted people who wish to overcome those barriers.” I agree. During my own search, it was like repeating dashing my head against a concrete wall.

The reason why individual trauma and harm matter in the stories adoptees tell is it forces other people to ask themselves whether it really had to be that way. Adoption is the legally sanctioned erasure of the child’s original identity.

Adoptees tell their stories because they believe that they have insights about adoption that non-adopted people will at least find intelligible. Even while acknowledging that it is impossible for people who have not lived severed aka adopted lives to truly understand. As the stories pile up, one has to admit that the harms are not all in one adoptee’s head but are a universal experience among them as a whole.

Guilt

Today, I’ll let the feelings and thoughts speak for themselves. (Not my own personal experience.) From blogger – At The Willow Tree.

Today marks one week since I had to give him away.

You’ve probably heard that being a foster parent is rewarding. You’ve probably heard that it is challenging. You’ve probably heard that there is grief in saying goodbye. You’ve probably heard that there is joy in knowing we were there when it counted.

But have you heard of “foster parent” guilt?

I hadn’t. In fact, since I’ve been fostering, I still haven’t heard anyone mention it. This is the first I’ve spoken of it.

You see I had this sweet little love until Thursday of last week.

He came to us at three weeks old. He had to have an extended stay in the hospital to help his little body detox, followed by two failed placement attempts with relatives… they gave him back to CPS, TWICE.

I remember his perfect little face, fingers and toes on the day he came HOME. Now he’s almost six months old. He’s finally sleeping through the night, two weeks ago he rolled over for the first time and he’s almost sitting up on his own! He’s devouring any solid food he can get his cute, chubby little hands on. He is a real smiler, it literally goes from ear to ear. He can’t help it. He is my happy boy. He looks to me for comfort and security. You see, I was his constant. I was his safe place. I was his everything, until last Thursday.

My home was the only one he’s ever known. My arms were the ones that he’s happiest in. My voice is the one that calmed him. My family was his family. He trusted me totally, completely, utterly, unquestionably.

And what shatters my heart is that I had to betray his trust. He wasn’t mine to keep. I know that – BUT HE DIDN’T.

This last week has been a blur. The long awaited court hearing has come and gone. I found out that the home approval had last minute been approved for another relative. The judge approved moving my boy again to yet more relatives. I had two hours after the court hearing to pack what I could, say goodbye and drop my baby off in an unfamiliar town, in a strange parking lot with more caseworkers. I watched as they drove away with him searching for ME! The guilt is crushing.

I had to give him away.

And as much as that hurt me, the thing that I can’t bear is how it has hurt him. How his little innocent heart, which believed I would protect him from everything, is now so deeply and irreparably hurt by me.

Please don’t be quick to jump and tell me not to feel guilty. Don’t say it’s not my fault. Don’t remind me of the good I’ve done and how that will set him up so well. Because in my head I know these things. I know them. But however true they are, they can’t change the facts.

Foster care will always, always be second best. And moving these already broken little people on to yet another home will always, always cause even more trauma. It’s unavoidable. It’s not my fault, yes – but I am still caught up in the process. And it is still me who had to look into those sparkling, big brown beautiful eyes, so full of trust and love – and then hand him over to strangers, and leave.

I’m sure he has cried for ME. He has searched for ME. He feels abandoned by ME.

So yes, I am guilty. And I am heartbroken. And so incredibly sad and sorry for the unfairness of this world.

But there is hope. And faith. And love. And in the truest, wisest book ever written we are told that love is the greatest.

A Product Of A Product

I read an interesting thread this morning that I thought reveals some really important perspectives and so, I share this.

Things I find odd: in the decades following discovery, none of my adoptive family asked about or acknowledged the existence of my half-siblings.

Nor did they either ask how I felt about being lied to for over thirty years; lies they participated in telling. I don’t say this to shame them. I am not even naming them here. As children, they were emotionally abused in that they were told to lie to a family member, every single day. They should not have been asked to do that. I don’t fault them for remaining silent prior to my accidental discovery of my adoption. What I find completely baffling is the continued silence.

What does that say about the nature of love, respect, compassion and connection that adoption supposedly creates? You may say; most adoptees know, so your experience is an anomaly. If so, there are thousands and thousands of anomalies running around these days. There are STILL adoptive parents posting on social media who say they haven’t told the adoptee, don’t know when or if they will. In transracial adoptions, adoptive parents can’t avoid the truth of adoption, but many make a practice of dodging questions, fabricating stories, joking about the adoptee’s pain. And I add, knowing a good number in the donor conception contingent of family creating, there were many who did not ever intend to tell their children. Of course, that was in the days before inexpensive DNA testing. Oops.

I guess odd is not a strong enough word. Cruel, maybe?

There were 4 children in my family; two of those were adopted. First a biological, genetic daughter, then the adoptee girl – me – and an adoptee boy, then a biological, genetic son. My adoptee brother died when I was 13. He was 12. The oldest daughter always knew. The youngest son learnt in high school. Yep; both of those were told to lie. Apparently it was important for them to tell other friends and acquaintances that I was not their “real” sister. I, however, was never told.

What a way to set family relationships up to fail. The refusal to engage with me now “post-discovery” reveals how deep that failure goes and it does increase the pain that I felt as an adoptee to an almost unendurable level.

In their defense, I don’t think they ever learned, nor knew how to learn, how to engage emotionally in a healthy way, not just with me but with others. Some of this was the result of being raised by adult children of alcoholics and a great deal of death and dysfunction occurred in the course of our upbringing. How much of that dysfunction can be attributed to being taught to lie ? It could not have helped the circumstances.

This brings on additional sharings of a similar nature.

Thanks to a friend recognizing my now ex husband was a functional alcoholic, I got into Al-Anon. I was also fortunate to find a couple adoptee support groups at that same time and found that there is a lot of overlap!! Dysfunction doesn’t discriminate. The ex was the son of a violent alcoholic. I dated men who had drug or alcohol issues. My adoptive parents were the youngest in their pre-Depression era families and we’re definitely not what we would refer to as “healthy” today. Add adoption to the mix…

My adoptive mom’s dad was a violent alcoholic. My adoptive dad’s dad was more of a gentle alcoholic, I think. They came out of hard times. Add the pressures of infertility during a time when women’s primary role was parenthood ? So much pain and suffering.

You are right about silence being cruel. Speaking as a first mom… losing my baby to adoption at 17 years old … I was told I would go on with my life, as if nothing had happened. My family never spoke to me about it. It’s traumatizing and cruel to pretend it never happened. I’m sorry that any of us are here having this discussion but we must talk about it, if we are to heal. I was in the adoptee fog for 43 years… & now 12+ years in reunion… I won’t be silenced any longer.

And by sharing such personal thoughts about personal situations, maybe some who encounter people living with such pain will be a little kinder. Until you walk a mile in my shoes . . . seems to fit. Always give the benefit of the doubt and consider the kindest possible explanation for whatever seems “off” is also good advice.

Reckoning With The Primal Wound

I’ve read the book, hope to catch this documentary soon.

More Info at Reckoning With The Primal Wound.

Adoptee Rebecca Autumn Sansom made a film titled a film titled Reckoning with The Primal Wound that captures the complexities, forsaken years, and mirror smashing pain of adoption better than any other I’ve seen. She says at her Twitter – “bunnies are my spirit animal.”

I am a fan already. Those who know me will understand why. We have a house rabbit named Walnut.

Here’s an article, My Biology Matters, in Severance magazine by Kristen Steinhilber – an excerpt from which, the paragraph mentioning Rebecca Autumn and italicized line below were taken. She says, “My story is not any other adoptee’s story. But the gist of it is not uncommon. These themes of diabolical dishonesty, betrayal, unbearable rejection, and hopelessness run through countless adoptees’ stories, and are begging not to be ignored.” Also, my favorite part is the “Adoptee Army” featured in the credits. There’s a massive number of names listed, all those of adoptees who stand in solidarity for adoption reform. After a lifetime of feeling utterly alone, I was moved to tears seeing my name included with all of the rest.

We are the adoptee army, and our biology matters. It did all along.

It Is Wrong To Hide The Truth

A person should not have to live to the age of 19 before knowing they were adopted. A person should not go through life being they come from a culture they did not. However, that is what happened to Melissa Guida-Richards. That was the point in her life when she learned she was not Italian at all bur a Columbian mestiza or mixed race. Melissa shares her story in a Huffington Post op-ed – My Half Siblings Found Me On 23andMe. I may never have learned the identity of my own dad’s father but for 23andMe hooking me up with cousins with the same grandmother (who I lived over 6 decades knowing nothing about).

That same 2017 year that I began to learn who my parents original parents were (both of them were adopted but at least they grew up knowing they were adopted all along), Melissa did 23andMe and learned about her cultural genetic make-up (Latina with Indigenous, Eastern Asian and some African roots with less than half of her genetic makeup from Italian or even European sources). She finally knew why she felt different from her entirely European adoptive family who came into the US straight off the boat from Italy and Portugal.

Before she knew she was adopted, she had grown up hearing stories of her adoptive father tending goats in Italy and her adoptive mother washing clothes in a stream in Portugal. She was taught to have pride in those cultures … but these were not her own birth culture. She experienced a sense of frustration over the way she had been raised. This built up inside of her until she made the decision to go into therapy when she was in college. Eventually, therapy allowed her to come to terms with some of these things, yet she was still pushing some of the others aside, finding that easier than confronting them. It takes time to grow through an evolution like this.

Like many adoptees, it took having biological children genetically related to her to give her that connection to kinship that was missing all of her life. Then, very much like what happened in my circumstances, two years after having her DNA tested by 23andMe, she received this message – “Hi, this may be weird and I don’t mean to bother you but I’m your half-sibling.” In a matter of seconds, she went from having no biological ancestors, and yet now children who were related to her, to having a sibling only a few years older than her. And she shares, what many adoptees feel when they discover biological, genetic relatives – Finally, there was someone else out there like me. After years of feeling like the broken, weird, outsider in my adoptive family, there was someone else.

Her feelings at that point, echo the anger many adoptees feel as they become mature – while her initial emotion was feeling overwhelmed with joy, she soon felt the grief. She says, How was it fair that I had no idea of this? That we, two siblings, were separated and yet adopted to the same country? Why did the world think that that was okay? Why did my adoptive parents act threatened when they found out about my sibling?

As she became acquainted with her half-sibling, she felt the novelty of experiencing actual similarities with a relative. All of her life, she had very little in common with her cousins by adoption and not surprisingly, her brother who was also an adoptee. Now this all made more sense, it had taken learning she was adopted.

She also experienced her adoptive mother withdrawing, becoming very quiet. Then, she received another message that she had yet another half-sibling who had the same original mother. It turned out that both of these half-siblings had been adopted but had been raised by the same adoptive family. Her adoptive parents lying about her adoption hurt even more. What also hurt for her was that these two half-siblings had not conveyed to her the full truth from the beginning of their making contact. They had both known about her for months, had looked at her blog, and on social media. They had decided together that it would be easier to go slow with the revelations and while the first one was open to creating a relationship with her, the other older one was not.

This whole situation felt like a betrayal to her. She says, “As adoptees I would have thought they would understand how any information about my birth family was vital to me. That hiding any part of our family would hurt me . . . since they had grown up together and knew about their adoptions since they were small, it didn’t really process for them why it felt like such a betrayal to me.” Eventually, she realized what hurt. It was one sibling protecting the other because that one wasn’t ready for a relationship with her. Their bond, from growing up together, and being biologically related, was something she could never have.

She shares some truth about adoptee reunions that I have seen more than once myself – they are often not like the movies. There’s heartbreak, anger, numbness and general confusion. People often expect an instant connection with their biological relatives because they share blood, but that can take some time or often never fully develops. I have certainly found that with my own newfound relations. They have histories together that I didn’t have with them. That gap of living different lives totally unaware of one another is very hard to fill – in fact, I have come to believe it is impossible. I am grateful for whatever relationship I can develop with each but I must keep my expectations in that regard very low.

The author arrives at this realization – My biological siblings and I may have come from the same mother, but we don’t share the same experiences. Society has pressured us to immediately connect upon meeting one another, when we barely could pick the other out from a crowd of strangers. It’s okay for reunions to be imperfect and painful because not all things in life are meant to be the way the movies portray. Having a relationship with both siblings during this (pandemic) time has filled some of the holes in my heart that adoption left. I’m beyond glad to have them in my life, and only hope that one day soon the world is a little less dangerous so we can all meet in person.

She ends with “we are still family ― flaws and all.” Yes, I totally get that sentiment.