This is a letter to Anna Belle Illien who was one of the people, or at least her agency, Illien Adoption International Inc., responsible for my adoption about a quarter of a century ago. I have never reached out to Illien the person or the agency but it is one of the connections that I […]Read More Dear Anna Belle Illien
One of the adoption agencies that worked with my parents to help them identify a child was called Illien Adoption International. I’ll admit I have not done a lot of research about the organization and thus have not really formulated an opinion about whether or not I feel they are helping or hurting the cause, […]Read More Do You Remember Me?
I have decided that in my searching process I would like to have some support as I move along, thus I have begun looking for a suitable therapist/social worker/mental health professional to help me along the way. I had at one point wanted to wait until I had a significant other who I felt would […]Read More Adoption Therapy: Here I Come!
I’m going to begin searching for more information related to my personal and familial history in India. Specifically, hoping to find information, traces, clues and people in India who either knew people I am biologically related to or that I share biology with. I just had to say this, you know, out loud to make […]Read More The Search
This piece was originally written in 2012 as a part of a short series I wrote about exploring my adoption file. I believe this was supposed to be the final piece in the four part series. I have edited it and thought it should be included. My File Part I: A Baby’s Biography My File […]Read More My File Part V: Searching for Self
For many, birthdays are a time to rejoice, celebrate and of course tell birth stories! For me birthdays are not imbued with the same sense of gleeful nostalgia. They are subtle reminders of an uncertain past and an unknown beginning. The first birthday is not simply a date. It is an experience that, although no […]Read More Birthdays Are Complex Monsters
I was scared, terrified. It was probably midnight and we had just walked off the plane. Off the plane and out into the cool night air. I was with my older sister, but was still scared. I thought being here was going to calm me down, make me feel comfortable and “normal”. I thought being […]Read More Hiding at Home
Looking at a mirror I often times, more so now than in the past am startled by my reflection. I almost don’t recognize myself. My face, it looks, well, different. I’m not the young undistinguishable American looking back at me. I’m…I’m Indian. I look Indian. I mean, well, I can tell, just by looking at […]Read More An Identity Liability