I Asked Adoptees Three Important Questions. Here Are Their Answers.
If you as an adoptee had to reduce the feeling you have when you think about adoption to one word, what word would you use?
isolating
complicated
freedom
heartbreaking
shipwrecked
tainted
secret
shame
grateful
abyss
agony
lost
unwanted
void
layered
painful
sad
difficult
confusing
grief
abandoned
fucked-over
at a loss
abandoned
different
island
complex
grief
complex
confused
shame
grief
fractured
hope
devalued
ugggghhhhh
lonely
lost
seperation
confused
devalued/without worth
disenfranchised grief
endless
ambivalent
alone
literally all of the above that everyone has said
alone
malaise
rejected
minimize
liberated
Imprisonment
free—took a lot of work
unwanted
pain
alien
lost
frustration
disconnected
detached
complex
thirsty
both
rage
unsuitable (describing myself)
longing
bittersweet
complicated
dangling
untethered
disconnected
unidentified
confusion
lost
catch-22
tear—a hole or split in something
RIP
grief
disconnected
complex
survivor
complex
alone
chameleon
compliqué
fucked-over
paradox
contradiction
layered
loved (This was the answer an adoptee gave to his wife when she asked him the question.)
adored
lost
blessed
belong
grateful
journey
survivor
defeated
broken
trauma
lost
disintegration
alone
shame
abandonment
loss
deceptive
alone
heal
disconnecting
rejection
loss
okay
untethered
lost
estranged
fucked up
trapped
round peg, square hole
empty
property
misfit
forgotten
missing
betrayed
loss/trauma
confused
secrets
unworthy
unwanted
unloved
2. What percent of people do you feel 100% comfortable with talking about your adoption?
100% of strangers, near 0% of family and friends.
Maybe less than 1%.
0%.
I feel comfortable. But most people are not comfortable and don’t even understand, but that doesn’t stop me from talking as I blow their minds away.
Same as the one above.
Anyone I think I could talk to and be comfortable with are people i din’t really know. Haley Radke. Anne Heffron.
I never do because of the uncomfortable feeling gibes to them. Cause easy fix answers don’t work.
1 person.
Not many, but will still speak up about it now.
A handful. I have small hands.
Anyone.
Maybe 3% and that’s up from last year, which would have been less than 1%.
100%.
0%.
All people because if they are in my life they are gonna hear about it anyway.
1% maybe.
0.1%.
Zero.
1 person—my partner.
80-90%.
90% of adoptees. Nonadoptees—probably only 1%.
I will talk to anyone willing to listen. That means a big now with my adoptive parents. If someone really wants to know and won’t gaslight me, I’ll share.
70% around strangers. 30% around family.
At least 80%.
With non-adoptees, a fairly small percent. Even close friends don’t really understand. I keep my mouth shut a lot the older I get, but people expect me to say different things than I do and the conversation can get awkward fast.
100% of adopted people. 0% otherwise.
Maybe 2-3.
Only an adoptee. One non-adoptee friend my entire life. I felt like I could be totally myself with him, tell him anything. I miss that rare acceptance in my life so much. Some days I sob uncontrollably hoping I’ll find someone in my atmosphere who could hold space for me like that.
0%. Always waiting to be judged.
I’ll talk about it with pretty much anyone, but I’ve never been 100% comfortable.
My husband is the first person I’ve ever honestly discussed my adoption with in person.
Anyone, but most don’t want to know what I think.
Anyone, but if there are more than a couple of people, no, because the non-adopted people tend to “gang up” on you with their platitudes.
Anyone. I’m an open book. Not everyone understands and I don’t expect them to. Even other adoptees can’t always relate and that’s fine too. But I’m very comfortable sharing and talking about it.
I used to be like you (comment above). An open book. Then our group therapist when I worked in a therapeutic community said I was the gun firing everyone else’s bullets. So I stopped being open. It’s so much more peaceful for me.
Comfortable. I’d say close to anyone and everyone, so let’s say 99%. That number decreases if the question is who to I chose to talk adoption with. I have found my voice and confidence, but still get overwhelmed (preferred over triggered) talking adoption with certain people.
Only other adoptees.
99% of folks I meet need only ask and I will spill more than they could have imagined. No shame in my game.
Most non-adoptees, especially in a classroom setting. It’s the best way to dispel the myths and i don’t run into the I HAD A GOOD EXPERIENCE SO YOU MUST BE LYING crowd.
Most people if it seems appropriate to do so. I am not ashamed of being adopted. If, by talking about it, I help people to understand the issues concerning adoption, then I am happy to.
50%.
90%.
I am open with anyone if it comes up, and often not comfortable with responses, but see that as an opportunity to educate. I am more careful who I chose to initiate with, as being that exposed can be wounding.
With my immediate family, which is my husband and children, and my natural mother’s sister. And online, in a like-minded group.
I’m willing to talk about my adoption with everyone except my adoptive parents. Still “protecting” their feelings well into adulthood.
My therapist, husband, and other transracial adoptee friends. A pretty small percentage of people I know really! I’m still pretty guarded.
I try to keep it 100% and talk about it for me—talking about it makes me feel open and less distracted.
Comfortable talking to anyone who is willing to listen…which rules out the birth mother because she is only interested in the happy ending narrative.
Can relate to above comment.
3%.
The question should be what percentage of people feel comfortable with us discussing our adoption. Even close friends get uncomfortable when I mention my adoption and will cut me off, try to redirect the conversation, or give me terrible advice rather than just holding space and listening.
I will talk with any adoptee, even if fog bound. I also hate with anyone else about adoption reality, but to share 100% is only an option for 2 people who I know will take the time to understand what I’m sharing. Everyone else gets what I think they can handle/understand.
I feel like non-adoptees will never understand, but I am pushing myself to talk about it. While it may be uncomfortable it’s important that I don’t continue to sacrifice parts of myself to make others feel comfortable in their ignorance.
1-2%.
Anyone, and have since 4-5 years old. I was told from day 1. Finally got to meet my birth mom, and got an extra sister in the bargain! All round all round.
All of them. I’ve known I’m adopted since I could understand what adoption meant and I have no issues discussing my life and issues with people who want to know.
Medical personages asking for a family history. My partner. My children. Other adoptees. Oh, and Twitter.
99'.99% but there’s plenty of defiance in there.
80% adopted (the 20% are those adoptees still in the fog)…0% non adopted.
I was going to say a generous %5 (of non-adoptees) but that’s just not true. I always reign it in even with the people I think I am comfortable with because it’s just so vast and too huge for a non adopted person to hear or witness. However, with a certain wonderful adoption group here, I feel damned close to 100% comfortable and am so grateful for that safe space.
Ditto (to above).
Yep. That certain wonderful adoption group and my K are the only people I’m comfortable talking about it with.
I’ll talk to anyone about my experience, but I’m 100% sure that half of them are internally rolling their eyes. I talk about it for me, not them. It will always hurt my soul, but I will never give up.
Hardly anyone unless they are too, but it’s a huge pain point. No one cares.
100%. The % of people who feel comfortable with me talking about my adoption is a much lower number, though!
My husband and other adoptees.
1% and they are all online.
100% of my adoptee friends. Four non adoptees—two of them are my husband and son.
Other adoptees.
15%.
Hmmmmm.
0%.
Everyone! Being adopted is a part of who I am. If someone has a problem with my adoption experience that is their problem. Everyone has their baggage!
When I believed I was cool with my adoption, there were lots of people I could talk to…Now that I am experiencing trauma and searching for answers, I am quickly learning I can only talk to other adoptees…
Yes, this exactly (to above comment).
Yes (to above comment) that is my experience. The “in the moment’ difficulty is too hard to explain to those without adoption experience that goes bone deep.
Yep (to above comment).
Exactly (to above comment).
I lost quite a few friends trying to work through my adoption. It’s not that they don’t get it—most do not want to understand or have their image of adoption shattered. (This really doesn’t need to be sad…it hurt when it happened of course. It took me a minute, but I had to realize that I had nothing to lose if they simply did not care. It propelled me to find those that could relate, and things have been getting better since then. I am able to look back and see those rowing the same ole boat I was in and can offer some words of encouragement and wisdom based off of my experience, so it was tragic but I grew from it and realized that the people I was pouring my heart out to were the toxic individuals.)
It’s growing…just as I am!
I’d say 0%. (Although I will take advantage of my husband’s kind listening sometimes.)
Other adoptees and one close friend only!
More and more 100% because I’m working hard to not care about what people think…and well, most of my adoptive family has just shut down speaking to me. Do I care? At 55, not, I don’t think I do…
No one really…everyone think I need to be grateful.
Not many!
Everyone. I have no issues and want to share my story.
Anyone. I had a great outcome.
I’m not 100% comfortable with anybody, including myself.
I’m in agreeance with that (to above comment).
0%.
100%. How else could they hear the truth?
Everyone.
100%.
.1%.
Not even myself.
0%.
I will talk to anyone about being adopted.
Anyone.
Anyone who isn’t in my adoptive family.
3. If you as an adoptee could receive a gift from a magic genie, what would you ask for?
A strong sense of self-worth.
To combine my two worlds so I could stop traveling between them.
To stop feeling like a character in a sci-fi story.
As a late discovery adoptee, answers to those questions I’ve been asking for the last 20 plus years.
Peace of mind.
Courage to differentiate in the world.
To be released from all the repercussions of the separation trauma in infancy.
Time machine.
To be less self-destructive.
Me, too (to above comment).
An emergency room that serves adoptees only, where only our language is spoken and all adoptee issues—physical/emotional/health—are completely understood, diagnosed, and treated.
A sense of belonging to relieve the trauma.
I’m going to think all day on that…
Same (to above comment)!
Depending on the power of the genie, I’d ask for the removal of all emotional, mental and physical effects of relinquishment trauma from me/my life, and if possible to do so, to combine it with the request on a restart on life.
I dunno if this is a constructive answer, but I’d probably want to be shown what my life would’ve been like if I hadn’t been adopted. I’d like to know for sure.
Oohweee! That’s a good one (to above comment)!
An overwhelming sense of peace for all adoptees—removing the questions and doubts that bring us ad added layer of anxiety and fear.
That the world would view women who reject their own children as women who are in need of support and help with mental health. That the insanity of children paying such a high price, while their own mothers have been denied help while pregnant and in a delicate state of mind.
A new life without relinquishment or a toxic adoption or significant trauma in it. Just to know what it feels like to be loved and wanted by a good enough healthy family.
Peace with rejection and lack of closure.
Peace.
Twenty million dollars that came with a plate of steaming hot lacy edged cornbread exactly like my Uncle B used to make—with butter slathered all over it.
To not be so fearful of attachment to others.
For society to acknowledge the loss adoptees face.
A picture of my birth mother, hopefully one of her feeling happiness.
Opportunity for relationships.
To have been aborted instead of adopted.
Greater self-worth. To stop pushing people away and assuming everyone will abandon me.
Freedom from my pain. Freedom to put down my mask. Freedom to speak my truth without judgment.
A better and more beautiful beginning.
That my brother and I would have been born into my adoptive family. He and I would have been spared the pain of life as an adoptee.
Why?
Acceptance of birth mothers and adoptees in everyday society where people approach the conversation with kindness and support instead of with shame and negativity.
To communicate love and understanding to my birth mother who felt she had to other option but to make an adoption plan for me.
Honest answers so that my mind could rest!
To have the chance to sit on a bench with my biological parents—both of whom passed away before I found them—and just talk to them.
A place. An unquestionable place.
To feel wanted.
To be able to resolve all situations satisfactorily.
To feel a deep connection to my bloodline. Like that scene from Frozen II when Elsa is greeted by the spirits of all her ancestors and she discovered who she really is, where she is rooted.
To answer my question as to why I think about someone, every fucking day, that I’ve only met once.
My strongest wish is that my story will not have a negative impact on my daughter. But sometimes I fear it will. I I don’t know how to protect her.
Looking back, I would wish for myself that I had known the possible reactions on behalf of my adoption trauma. But I didn’t. No one ever told me that I could be in risk of retrauma. And then it happened. Looking forward I would wish for myself to be able to hope for commitment to one other person in my life and for the “outside world” to understand. But I’m not there yet.
