Go dig a hole in your backyard.

If writing or creating were easy, it would be called eating ice cream.

What gets in the way of adoptees (human beings!) feeling free to talk about their feelings and experiences and beliefs?

I have been thinking a lot recently about why so many adopted people struggle with feeling free enough to tell/write their story. I wrote these sections with that question in mind.

I’ve often fantasized and written about wishing I could clear the Etch-A-Sketch of me, like I was a blackboard covered in chalk marks.

I was going to put this in the trash, and then I thought—but I put so much work into it.

My dad may have years left on the planet, but after his holiday hospital stay it doesn’t look that way, and recently I’ve been making jokes about hurrying his exit.

I think you’ll only understand this if you’re adopted, and if you’re adopted and you still don’t understand, well, jeez. I don’t know. I thought you’d get it.

I want a place for adopted people to meet and to stretch themselves both in comfort and discomfort.

What I’m saying is, if you have seeds of potential in you that have not been encouraged or allowed to fully germinate, the seeds don’t disappear just as a car doesn’t disappear if you don’t drive it.

Be on time. If you are more than 1.5 seconds late, text or call to say you are almost there.

I watched the Netflix show Stutz on the recommendation of Jen, a fellow adoptee. It was like watching my own heart beat.