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Accepting my Adoption

Dear Anonymous,

Growing up, I had periods where I had a hard time accepting my adoption and thought about my birth mother. I thought about how excited I would be to “finally” have a mom. How happy I would feel to “finally” have someone who understood me. And someone who would hug me with more love — I expected myself to have all the reactions an adopted child is expected to feel when meeting their birth parent(s) for the first time.

Some Background Info: Adoption Experience

I had a rough upbringing in the foster system. And even a rough life as an adopted child. There were many things that my adoptive mother did that has caused me trauma. All of which made me feel resentment towards myself, preventing me from accepting my adoption because I wished to be somewhere else. I wanted to be with my dad; but he wasn’t alive. So I tried finding my birth mother.

I got in contact with my birth mother in 2017. I experienced all that I have expected of myself. My birth mother even went to one of my basketball games.

We Didn’t Talk For 3+ Years

Through time, I experienced anger and sadness through a sunken self-worth caused by people who told me that they were right. I sat and reasoned with myself for over 3 years by my own intuition to understand that the words of others meant nothing if I intuitively felt.

This year I put together a family collage of pictures for my ancestral alter. My adoptive mother and birth parents/family were included. The following week, I went on a man-hunt to see if my birth mother was still alive. I searched online, databases, voting information, social media, etc. I called more than 15 numbers that I found online. And went to a few addresses. I slightly gave up; then reflected.

A few days after reflection: My birth mother reached out to me. I expected myself to cry, to be excited, happy, fulfilled, etc. And not a thing came out, besides asking myself why I wasn’t reacting how I expected.

Why I’m Writing ‘Accepting my Adoption’

All this time I was looking to replace the mother I already had. I turned to realize that I accepted my adoptive mother to be my mom. In a way, I surrendered to the universe. I accepted that everyone was flawed in their responses and actions. And what mattered most, was how someone bettered themselves through their mistakes. All this time I resented my adoptive mother for all the things she has done to me without accepting how she bettered herself.

Now that we’re here, I accept my reaction and lack of excitement. I accept my adoptive mother as my mom. I no longer resent my mom nor myself for the decisions that has led me to being adopted. Lastly, I accept my intuition because it has led me here.

Through this all, I learned to understand that a relationship must be built.

Yours Truly,

Damian