I recently listened to “You Don’t Look Adopted” as a 33 year old adoptee who is “coming out of the fog” as it’s often said. I wanted to pick the book up from the shelf years ago but something in my brain smacked my hand away as I went to grab it. I think a lot of people who are adopted can relate to the “invisible string” that often leads us in certain directions, albeit often misguided. Anyway, I finally got around to listening to the audiobook a few weeks ago, and was absolutely enchanted with it. Bare with me, as I don’t express cheese ball sentiment well because I have never been able to speak my mind about the way I connect to language, imagery and so on because it’s not normal. But this book! It was like my native tongue that I assumed just didn’t exist because I had never heard it spoken outside of myself. It’s my language! I loved it. 

There is so much in it that could have very well been plucked from my life and experience as an adoptee, which I thought I may have been totally alone in. Relatability is so rare for adoptees and she explains the little quirks very well. Like, how sometimes that tiny bit of opposition defiance she just can’t suppress takes shape in her decision that, ‘No. The comma goes here, not there, and I won’t debate it. The rule does not apply to me and I don’t know why, nor do I care.’ Ha! I have a fundamental sure footed awareness in little things just like that, including the modification of punctuation/grammar. Though, in those moments, I have not recognized it as awareness until I heard it from another adoptee’s perspective. And the way she explained how she always wanted to write a book but got discouraged by the struggle to write about her character within the context of her own memoir. I have also felt boring and self important due to the constant insinuation that I should simply be grateful for every damn thing in my life without question. It’s so difficult as a writer who has been sort of “tricked” into living on the surface of my own story with a surface understanding of the impact of adoption. It’s taken all the strength I have to start stripping away everything I have been burdened with and instructed to feel and replace it with my own true experience, and “You Don’t Look Adopted” was just what I needed to believe in my ability to stay the course. To tell my own story like it is with only myself in mind. 

I could not believe that was something that other born writers have been discouraged by without the consideration of adoption related factors. I just assumed that I was wrong to have thought I was a born writer. And of course, how could I think differently without the perspective that the reason why is because I was imported into my own life. Of course this makes it more difficult. 

Anne’s writing style also helped me make the connection as to why I have always felt my own writing lacked sensory and set observatory details. It’s so clear now! I don’t sense or observe in the same way many people do because, I like many adoptees, suffer from Developmental Trauma Disorder or C-PTSD, which has left my nervous system incredibly compromised, along with somatic deficiencies. Because of this, when trying to adapt to and convey like the rest of the world within my own capacity, it has been demoralizing. The way Anne conveys her true sensory experience by relying on the language of symbolism is absolutely lovely and extremely powerful. It made me realize it’s similar to my own experiencing, and my own insights that never make it onto the page. It always seems too melancholy and dramatic in my head. But longing and despair and trauma and pain and knowing full well that I am chronically misunderstood despite everyone saying I am wrong is how I experience the world. It’s just how it is for me, and that is the voice I have not been able to speak with. Anne does a beautiful job, and it made me realize that I am “allowed” to write my own way. 

This is just one way that Anne’s book helped me feel more sane, secure and empowered. The narrative about adoption and how we are saved/chosen is well intentioned, but in practice, does very real damage to us and puts detrimental limitations on the way we see ourselves. It needs to change. The Write or Die Initiative is incredibly powerful and so important for people who have been living without their voice. As adoptees, the world has not been thoughtful enough to make room for the way we experience it, so we have had to adapt and adjust. It’s left me feeling helpless. Using my voice is changing everything, and I know now that my life has been depending on it. I believe that adoptees are uniquely qualified to carve out room for our truth where the world so far has spoken on behalf of us. 

Every adoptee has the strength to connect with their own truth, and each of us have a fascinating perspective, and it’s only fair that the world is made to listen up. 

If no one in your life has advocated for your struggles as an adoptee, this only makes you even more qualified to advocate for yourself and other people like you. Tell your story and demand that the world listen! <3

You can contact Kristen at kristensteinhilber11@gmail.com.