At 50 years old, I’m coming out of the fog and for the first time, understanding how my adoption impacted me.  I was the poster child for adoption success stories, or rather I told the story adoptive parents and birth mothers wanted to hear.  Frankly, I believed it.  What I’ve come to realize is that I’d been living in complete denial.

I never heard the phrase, “coming out of the fog,” nor had I known that I was living there.  My awareness came to light by accident, as it does for many – an event, a crisis, or a loss wakes them up to a new level of understanding. Two years ago, a birth cousin reached out to me on 23andMe and all that I previously believed about myself began to unravel.  I had never considered how my genetics played a role in who I am as a person. There was no space to explore that part of my story even though I always felt a little bit different from my family.  Ironically, it was my parent’s request for Ancestry for Christmas that prompted me to do 23andMe to find out more about my health history.

I was adopted domestically at almost three weeks old. I was told about my adoption while I was young, so I thought of it as a trait, like the color of my hair or eyes.  I looked “enough” like my family so there was no reason for anyone to think that I wasn’t biologically related.  My adoption was rarely brought up.  The one time I approached it, I was told that my biological mother had moved on when she gave birth to me and would likely be upset by my contacting her. My adoptive mother made it quite clear that she was my only mother.  It made me feel that the case was closed.  If I searched for my biological mother, my Mom would think I was disloyal and ungrateful, and I could potentially lose the only family I had.  This is not to say that my adoptive parents were bad or got it wrong.  They did many things right.   It is just that as I’ve come out of the fog, I can own that adoption impacted me.

I realize how differently I experience my place in the world when I look at my children’s behavior.  They have no problem expressing exactly how they feel – even if it makes me upset.  There is an underlying confidence, a knowledge that no matter what they do or say, they are supported and loved.  I did not have the same certainty growing up.  I was always a little bit nervous that I would say or do the wrong thing and it would cost me my family.  Because of this, I can read a room and know how to act to make other people happy. I know how to push aside what I think, feel or need, to put someone else’s desires before mine.  I’m quick to diffuse a tense situation and the first to offer “I’m sorry,” even if it isn’t my fault because tension makes me want to crawl out of my skin.  I say “yes” when I mean “no” because I hate disappointing people.  I don’t like the feeling of being left out. 

Adoption impacted my behavior in ways I never understood.  For example, my husband once commented on my near panic to be one of the first parents at pre-school pick up.  When I was 4 years old, my mother was late picking me up and I remember being inconsolable because I thought she had decided that she didn’t want me anymore. Consequently, I am never late picking up my boys. I now recognize that behavior stems from my abandonment issues – normal people don’t have that same underlying panic about being late to pick up their children.  I never once considered how my adoption colored my actions or my behavior. 

At 50 years old, I am a recovering people pleaser.  I’m learning that I can say “no” and the world won’t fall apart. I share my opinions instead of keeping them inside because I understand that I can have an opinion. I don’t adopt a “role” anymore to make someone else feel comfortable. I can be myself.  Adoption has taught me how to be highly adaptable, able to interact, connect and feel comfortable around all types of people.  I am a good listener. I’m learning that I can be myself.

Now that my eyes have opened, I know this for sure – adoption is complicated and impacts children, even those who were too young to remember what happened to them.  This fact can’t be glossed over or emphasized enough.  Adopted children need to know where they come from and have access to their genetic roots.  Adoptive and biological parents need to hold space for the child to explore her many parts of herself.  Children should no way be burdened by either parents’ insecurities or be forced to withhold feelings to make an adult feel better.  Parents should talk honestly with their children and provide them with the support needed to navigate this complicated experience.    

I’m still a work in progress.  I feel lucky.   I may not be the poster child for adoption as I once was, but I believe as I continue with my metamorphosis, I will grow into a better, well-rounded and more honest voice for adoption.  Let us make space for all experience and voices.