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Adoption and Child Separation at the Border

On June 1, 2018 Rebekah Henson published an important thread on Twitter critiquing the hashtags #FamiliesBelongTogether and #Ke...

Friday, November 6, 2015

The Journey of Searching

#FlipTheScript Prompt: For those who have searched for birth family, talk about the impetus that lead you to search, the emotions leading up to making contact, and the reactions of those family members you found. For those who have been found by birth family, talk about your emotions upon being contacted and your response to the person who found you. For those who have not searched nor have been found, talk about whether or not you feel you ever will search and the reasons for your choice.

One of the things I learned early on is that when someone finds out you’re adopted, the first question they usually ask is “Do you know your birthparents?”, followed by “Are you ever going to search for them?” if you answer no to the first question. So most of my childhood was spent contemplating that very question. Would I search someday? Did I want to? What if I didn’t like what I found? What would I find? What if I looked and couldn’t find anyone? What would I do then? I spent a lot of time wondering about these things, usually without ever verbalizing any of it. My friends weren’t adopted like I was and they just didn’t understand. I didn’t want to “hurt” my parents or family members by bringing it up to them. My sister and I never really talked about it because I was never really sure how she felt about everything and it was just easier to pretend it wasn’t the giant elephant in the middle of the room.

So I thought about these things in the quiet of my bedroom when I couldn’t sleep; and when I had nobody to sit next to on the bus; and when I was washing my hair. Pretty much whenever I was alone. I daydreamed about all the wonderful things I might one day discover, and had nightmares about the other possibilities. At one point I was convinced my natural mother was a crack addicted whore and my natural father was someone I would never want to meet, because what good guy sleeps with a crack addicted whore? Never the less, I always knew in my heart that I would search. I just wasn’t sure when.