I can't speak for all adopted children but I can say—after interviewing several of them over the years—that many of us have trouble feeling completely comfortable wherever we are—no matter how welcomed we may be. At times our discomfort can manifest in distancing, indifference, or even rudeness, but we usually don't intend to insult anybody. We just seem to have an internalized nomadic notion that we don't belong anywhere in particular. Even when we do settle somewhere we often work our asses off to prove our worthiness—just in case anyone gets any ideas about putting us back up for adoption. While watching my oldest daughter play at a neighborhood park, I thought to myself: "Wow, she looks just like me. What a miracle!" Well, to me it was a miracle. It was thrilling and heart-warming, but it was also a little strange—I almost cried. For the next several months I had to work on emotionally claiming her as my own.Go read the whole thing! He has some interesting things to say.
Some of us who were adopted in "closed states" (or states that don't allow for the free exchange of even the most vital information such as a health history) have a lingering fear that we might drop dead at any moment. I just love filling out the medical history questionnaire at a new doctor's office; the one that asks what diseases your parents suffered from. How about the question: What age was your father when he died? How should I know? The great state of so and so...won't tell me. Not knowing one's medical history is especially annoying to those of us adoptees who have biological children. What am I passing on? Will I be around for the weddings?
Grieving the Unknown.
1 day ago