I’m Still Standing

Individual identity is important; we can all agree on that. But when I hear someone say, “Just be you”, I can’t help but squirm. For one, yourself is rarely what is best in most situations. Two, I also wonder, if simply being yourself creates the illusion that you have no power to shape or to mould out the (prolonged pause) bad bits?

Being a teenager and learning that such ‘self-crafting’ is possible could be an extremely powerful thing. However, there is a downside to this, because part of yourself is your past. And your past. Well, you can’t change that.

For some, the past they carry is heavier than for others. For anyone who is adopted, this burden can be quite large. This can take hold and then shape their identity more than they seem to be able to themselves. More than they want.

In my family, my adoption was talked about in a way that meant I created a toolset of motivation. What happened in my past with my birth parents wasn’t fun, good, or beneficial to me. But without sounding like a hippy, I firmly believe that life is riddled with rough times. And, after adoption, with the right support and mindset, we can all go on to take on the world headfirst.

This is the basis I have built my foundation on as a person. And this is a way for you, too, to take control of your past, no matter what it is.

I’m thankful I have the resources to do so, because even though it was tough. I’m still standing.

By Arran Gray

Head to the adoption section to read more interviews and articles written by adoptees.

I think lucky is a word that means so many different things to those who’ve experienced adoption. I feel very lucky to have been chosen to be mum to our daughters. Our family are lucky to have our girls in our lives. But they aren’t lucky to have been adopted. Their start in life was full of loss and trauma.

It’s a term that people often use to describe adopted children, saying they’re lucky to have been adopted. I hope it’s a well-meaning comment, but it shows how far we still have to go in terms of raising awareness around adoption.

Chloe’s perspective on what lucky means for her is humbling.

Lucky

Perhaps some young people don’t understand what it means to be adopted and be “in the system” until they’re older. But I always knew.

Adopted at eight years old, I worked out early on what foster care was. I accepted I’d move around continuously and that eventually, leave the system. I also understood that I was… lucky.

Being in foster care was a fairly confusing and upsetting time for me. It was “decided” that every second Thursday, I would be allowed to meet my birth mother.

At first, I’d be overexcited and sometimes even be physically sick before she arrived. Soon after, it turned to a case of absence. She stopped turning up, and this fact would make me so ill that on the day after the contact, I’d again become very ill.

My foster carer soon became my long-term carer, and from this time, I have a lot of memories. I’m not sure if this is the same for all of you. But for me, I felt that my foster carer and I formed a kind of mother-daughter bond, which, as we all know, includes both good and bad times.

Memories of foster care

Strangely, some of my clearest memories are the weirder ones.  For example, I’m extremely glad to see the back of haggis; my arch nemesis. It was a Halloween night, and I was told that I wasn’t allowed to go out trick or treating unless I ate my haggis, which she knew I hated. Maybe it was a test, but I’ll never know.

However, I’ve also got lots of good memories, which balance the bad. For example, our trips to Edinburgh zoo, Chill Factor in Manchester (sledging/ skiing) and my all-time favourite, horse riding.

Can I trust you with a secret, reader? My biggest memory with horse riding was when my brother’s pony handler let go of his pony momentarily, and the horse spooked, making him fall halfway off his pony. It then started to canter off with him. I know that this seems to be a weird thing to put in a blog, but my point is that memories are weird; you can’t choose what sticks.

Foster care is definitely not convenient or the best thing to go through. But if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to make good memories and look back at that time with fondness.

Head to the adoption section to read more interviews and articles written by adoptees sharing their experiences.

The group work is key to them being able to reflect the way they do. They’re passionate about giving young adoptees the chance to be part of a similar community. The Ambassadors would love to campaign for all adopted young people to have access to group work and to give young adopted people across the world a space to be part of a similar adoptee community.

Over the next few weeks, I’m resharing the blogs because they give such a powerful insight into some important issues young adopters face.

The first blog is written by Chloe.

I see Me

Are you still trying to figure out who you are, or have you already found yourselves?

If the latter, congratulations! However, for those of you who are still finding yourselves, here are some things from my journey I’d like to share with you.

For me growing up, if adoption was spoken about at school, it often came from playground insults. I heard a lot of “LOL, your birth parents didn’t want you” or “Is your life like Tracey Beaker?”

I’m sure those of you who’ve been pointed at and insulted felt the same as I did. It affected my confidence and how I viewed myself.

For a long time, I took these insults.  However, in the past year, I decided – no longer! The last time I was insulted, I replied with the following, “No, my life is nothing like Tracey Beaker and why I was adopted is none of your business”.

Back in my birth town, everyone knew me and my family as a problem family who needed to be taken care of. This also impacted on how I saw myself.

My adoption journey

Throughout my adoption journey, there have also been a variety of feelings that have troubled me. For example, a sense of abandonment, confidence issues and a lack of control. These feelings have come from both my experiences and from how others perceive adoption as a whole.

With both, the result has meant that adoptees think that how we feel inside is how others feel about us.

The good news is, things are getting better. Growing in age, leaving the toxic environment of school and realising that through things like work, I now have confidence that I can control my own future.

Now, when I feel negative about my past, I remind myself that only I have the power to change my identity.

I see Me!

Head to the adoption section to read more interviews and articles written by adopted children and adults, sharing their experiences.

I hope you’ve found this series as useful as I have in terms of highlighting the issues adoptees face as they grow up. We need to have conversations like these and get the issues out in the open so that change can happen. Thank you once again to Lauren for being so open and honest in answering the questions.

Were you curious about your birth family when you were growing up?

Growing up, I felt like I had so many questions – why was I relinquished, where is my birth mother, does she have regrets? I also felt like the answers, or the quest to obtain answers, defined me. As an adult, I feel like I am at peace with all I’ll never know. I also feel that as I’ve learned more about adoption, its effects on adoptees, and the trauma of infant separation, I’ve been able to get on the path to healing and acceptance.

If the information had been readily available to you, do you think that would have helped you?

It’s hard to say since I don’t know what that information may have been or how it would have affected me. I think the question is a testament to the need for transparency, standards, and open records on an international level for adoptees. We have a right to know about where and who we come from, and unfortunately not all of us have what we need to acquire that understanding.

Did your parents encourage you to find out about your birth history?

My parents were always open to having conversations about my adoption and my birth parents. I believe if I had wanted to search, they would have been 100% supportive. However, when you’re constantly told from a young age how lucky you are to be adopted and reminded of the sacrifice your adoptive parents made, you develop an obligatory gratitude. I felt very strongly that I didn’t want to hurt them by asking questions about my biological parents, and so a lot of the questions I did have went unasked.

How has not knowing about your birth history affected you?

Not knowing about my birth history has affected me in so many ways – probably another book’s worth lol. But I’ll only cover a few here:

Simple things like going to the doctor’s office and having to explain I have no access to my family medical history is like reliving all I’ve lost all over again. Each time the nurse or doctor goes down the line of questions and fails to register that I don’t have access to that information, I am re-traumatized.

Now that I am faced with the question of whether or not I will be a mother, there’s an added stress of not knowing what I may or may not pass down to my child. Even as I grow older, not knowing if I’m predisposed to developing certain medical conditions is always hovering over me.

Do you think you’ll want to find out about them in the future?

At this time, I do not have any desire to enter reunion.

If you decide you want to, do you think the help and support you’ll need is easily available to you? If not, how can it be improved?

As I stated previously, international standards of transparency and standards is lacking. I know many adoptees who have attempted to search and found their documents were falsified or that there was no information at all. There is still such a stigma associated with single motherhood in Korea.

On an international level, we need legislation passed to standardize the documentation (and information included in that documentation) for relinquishment, transparency, and so much more.

If you had a magical power, what would it be and how would you use it to help adoptees?

This is a tough one because I feel like I already have a superpower lol. I think my superpower is the ability to listen, and I’m using that power to educate myself and to listen to and support all members of the adoption constellation.

Having conversations about these types of issues is crucial. They help to make sure adopted children get the help and support they need to guide them through their journey of understanding their history and the part it plays in who they are.

Did you feel different to other children when you were growing up because you were adopted or because you were Asian, or both?

Both for sure. I grew up in a predominantly white neighbourhood and was one of only a few Asian students in elementary school through high school. Children could be so mean. I remember they would pull the edges of their eyes back toward their ears, and say, “Me Chinese, me play joke, my put pee pee in your Coke.” However, when I got to college and met other Asian people, I found they didn’t really accept me as one of their own.

When you’re young, you always think your personal situation – whether it’s being an only child, going to church on Sundays, etc. – is normal (for lack of a better word). It had never occurred to me that there was anything abnormal about the fact that my parents and I did not genetically mirror each other.

But the difference you feel being adopted goes further than that. It’s a million little things. For example, when my friends would have brothers or sisters, they would tell me their moms were in the hospital giving birth. I thought babies came from the airport since that’s where I remembered going to get my brother. I kept wondering, “What’s wrong with all these moms that they all seem to go to the hospital?”

Did you get any help or support with how you felt?

I think everyone I spoke to – parents, teachers, etc. – chalked the behaviour of other children up to standard teasing. “Just ignore them” was my mother’s go to advice. And perhaps in any other situation, that might have been the best advice. But when I was growing up, it seemed clear that children weren’t just making fun of the things that made me different, but for who I was. It reinforced the idea I already had that something was wrong with me.

Did you understand what love meant or were you unsure of what it was?

My understanding of love – like my understanding of what it means to be an adoptee – has evolved over the years. It’s another lifelong journey that I think all people go on. When I was younger, I think the way I understood love was through possessions – i.e. my mother has given me a toy, therefore she loves me. However, as I grew into a teenager, the things my mother did to protect me (which were done out of love) like setting curfew, not letting me hang out with certain people, etc. I saw as control.

For what seemed like a long time, I assumed love came from other people – that I would never be worthy of anyone or anything until I was loved by someone outside my immediate family. I needed someone to prove to me that I was worth it. The truest love, I’ve discovered, is the love you have for yourself. It’s what saved me.

Did you know any other adoptees when you were growing up? Did you feel able to talk to them about how you felt?

Growing up, my parents were friends with another couple who had adopted two girls from South America. I also had my brother, who is adopted. But, in all the time we played, trick or treated, or just hung out together we never spoke about being adopted. We were connected on this extremely rare level, but we never acknowledged it which I think is part of a larger desire we (as adoptees) feel to fit in. 

Based on your own experience, what help and support do you think should be available for adopted children / teenagers and adults?

When you’re an adoptee – especially a transracial adoptee – you’re balancing so many different identities. I would have liked some guidance, mentorship, and a community that centred around how to reconcile how the world sees you and how you see yourself, how to live in the in-between, and what it means to be adopted.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but is there anything you wish your parents had done differently that would’ve helped you to face the challenges you experienced as you were growing up?

I am not a parent, therefore I cannot speak to what it takes to raise a child. I do encourage adoptive parents to first listen, create a safe space for your adoptee to share, and to always seek out knowledge from adult adoptees.

It really brings home to me the difficult road my children have ahead of them as they learn more about their history and work out who they are and how it all fits together. Hopefully, by reading about Lauren’s and other adoptee experiences, we can be better prepared to help and support our children.

Do you have access to any documents from your adoption?

When I moved out, my mother gave me everything she had in from my adoption which, unfortunately, wasn’t a lot in terms of answering the questions I had.

What type of documents do you have?  Have they helped you understand why you were adopted?

There were copies of my parents’ marriage certificate, citizenship papers, the adoption application, etc. However, when I was doing research for Inconvenient Daughter, I contacted the adoption agency my parents went through and requested all records they had pertaining to my biological parents.

The only document that gave me insight was the INITIAL SOCIAL HISTORY form which had a brief summary of who my parents were (no names), why they chose to relinquish me for adoption, and some details about their lives.

If you don’t have any documents, is that because they aren’t available or because you haven’t wanted to see them?

I have no desire to be in reunion at this time and have not made an effort to obtain more documents. However, I imagine there might be additional information through the orphanage I was placed in in Korea.

If they aren’t available, is there anything in particular which you think would help you?

I feel like I’ve come a really long way in my adoption journey. As a young adoptee, I struggled to find the vocabulary to explain what I was going through. As an adult (sort of lol), I understand how the trauma of being separated from my biological mother as an infant has informed my identity and influenced my decisions.

All the work I have done since then – finding my voice, reconciling my cultural and racial identities, exploring what it means to be adopted – has really put me on the path to healing from the trauma of infant separation. I feel as if I have closure in terms of all the things I’ll be able to know versus the things I want to know with regard to my relinquishment.

In the UK, adopters usually write a yearly update to birth family. Birth family can respond if they want to. Does that happen in the US? If it does, did your parents do updates and did you get any response? Have you read them?

This is a difficult question so I’ll start with this disclaimer: I can only speak for myself and my personal experience with regard to any and all questions about adoption. I believe every adoptee’s journey and story is unique and would never presume to speak for the entire adoptee community.

That being said, I also cannot speak for every adoption agency’s policies. There are no standard and universal practices – such as writing yearly updates – that are implemented by adoption agencies with regard to contact with the biological family, as far as I am aware. It would seem to me that any policies like this would be implemented at the discretion of the adoption agency or the adoptive parents.

In the United States, we have closed adoptions (no contact with the biological family), open adoptions (the possibility of contact with the biological family), and hybrid versions of the two. I say “the possibility of” when speaking about open adoption because “contact” is usually either at the discretion of the adoptive parents, but is also dependent on how involved the biological parents seek to be.

My adoption was a closed adoption, and to my knowledge my parents have not sent yearly updates to my biological mother.

If it doesn’t, do you think it would have helped you to understand your identity better if it had been done?

For me, my identity and the search for my identity had nothing to do with my biological parents or my adoptive parents. My identity – and the issues I had with it – was not having a support system in place to guide me through what it means to be a transracial adoptee. To mourn the loss of my birth culture while simultaneously having my American culture thrust upon me. And not fully understanding how to exist in the in-between that so many adoptees find themselves in.

Having yearly updates sent to or from my biological mother would have certainly helped answer some questions, but I have to be honest and say I think it would have done much more harm than good.

Do you have any items from your birth family or that your birth family bought for you?

I do not.

If you don’t, would you have liked something?

I would have to say no.

In your opinion, if adopters have documents and keepsakes relating to their children’s adoption and from their birth family, do you think it’s best for adoptees to have access to these from an early age as and when they’re available, or is it better for them to be looked at altogether at an older age?

Since I am not a parent in any capacity, I can’t comment on when adoptive parents should share documents or keepsakes with adoptees.

However, as an adoptee, if my parents had access to documents or keepsakes, I would have liked to receive them at whatever age I inquired about their existence. I also would have preferred to look at these documents or keepsakes alone, but have my adoptive parents be close-by and available should I have had questions or needed support.