Stream of Exhaustion

It has been an intense two weeks and I feel pretty shitty right now. I left for India on March 5th and made it to Chennai and then Trichy on March 7th. We stayed in Trichy for most of our time in India but spent one night in Puducherry and one night in Chennai on … Continue reading Stream of Exhaustion

We Have Arrived

Being on a 15 hour flight is a little like hell. It is hard to believe it will end. Time ceases to cycle in the familiar ways. The sun still rises but it means less. Meals are brought out in what feels like arbitrary intervals and arbitrary purposes since I haven’t done anything to work … Continue reading We Have Arrived

There Sits a House

There Sits a House, illuminated by a flash. Bathed in artificial light. The roof is metal, worn, in visible disrepair. This house sits on an uneven dirt road. Flowering shrubs sprawl across the front creating a beautiful barrier, separate from passers by but not private, just distant. A few exhausted lines run from the rafters … Continue reading There Sits a House

“I Support Your Decision To Go”

Sometimes a gesture, no matter the magnitude, can make all the difference. Two weeks ago my mother and I exchanged two emails. My response to her email was the first time I felt able to articulate, unapologetically, the complexity of my emotions around searching and how to engage my mother in that process. It is … Continue reading “I Support Your Decision To Go”

I was Not Touched by Adoption and Other Final NAAM Thoughts

Friend speaks my mind.

Red Thread Broken

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Some of you have probably seen this optional Facebook profile picture template used by people in your personal networks to promote November as National Adoption Month and National Adoption Awareness Month (NAAM). I have seen adoptees and adoptive parents alike with this border, but I will not put this overlay on my profile picture. I have been undoubtedly affected by adoption, but I would never say that “I am touched by adoption.” Adoption pulled, tugged, and dragged me across the world without asking me. Adoption demanded that my core identity, family, and nationality change. Adoption forces me to live a life in question of basic information like my birthdate, place, name, and medical history. People would not say that individuals have been “touched” by home foreclosure, refugee status, or other forms of displacement, and it doesn’t make sense in the context of adoption, either. Using positive rhetoric, like “I am touched…

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I Cannot/I Can

I've decided to return to India, to follow Arun and Anjali's advice to attempt to confront the woman they found, who denies, as is her prerogative, any relation to me. I cannot control the outcome of a potential meeting. I cannot control whether or not this woman is related to me. I cannot control if … Continue reading I Cannot/I Can

In the land where adoption is win-win-win

Thanks TAO. Reminders of the persistence of harmful ways to frame adoption, particularly to those who have been adopted.

The adopted ones blog

An article was posted that had Tummy Mommy in the title, I knew I should avoid it, the title told me it would make me upset. I clicked anyway. Dumb, dumb idea.

I read it. I read it right to the bitter end.

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They Say I Look Like Her

Resemblance is a strange concept. It overflows with subjectivity, devoid of neutrality or impartiality. Colored and formed in the image of past experiences. Reliant upon availability heuristics. They say I look like her. I don't know how to understand that phrase. What does it mean to see yourself in others or them in yourself if … Continue reading They Say I Look Like Her

Fragile.

Less than an hour after the brief Skype conversation with Arun and Anjali the advertised email with a handful of pictures pings into my meticulously curated inbox. I hate having unread messages in my inbox, it feels like dishes pilled on the counter, calling for attention, guilt by neglect. The normal nag of this red … Continue reading Fragile.