I'm an experienced performer.

I was thinking the other day how great it is to walk into fear.

I decided to ask my writing class of adopted people to write for 20 minutes on their breath.

The last morning of my online retreat, I asked the participants what they needed or what they wanted more of that day. Most people said Connection.

I hadn’t realized I’d believed in this legacy and my obligation to bear it until I’d done this exercise—I’d just assumed it was a weight that was part of me, like my arm spine or my liver.

Today on her Instagram feed, the therapist Amanda Vaughn (Amanda_Vaughn_Therapy) quoted a parent saying “My worst fear as a non-biological parent is the day my child says, ‘You’re not my REAL mother.’”

I had the experience the other day, yet again, of catching my reflection in the window of my car and having the startling stomach-drop feeling of wrong wrong wrong.

By the way, The Passenger is rife with really bad, crude jokes. I was so shocked at the first one I read it three time. Brilliance AND bathroom humor?? What more could I ask for?

I think for some people, maybe everyone in my class, writing badly means sounding like yourself.

She picked out stationary cards with a black horse on the front because she knew black horses were my favorite.

Hunger is full of clues. How amazing to make space for this language! To listen to it. To give it room to exist.

Being in community with other adopted people is amazing, and I want as much amazing in my life as possible.