Adoption.
When you hear the word, many picture this beautiful love story of a child in a war-torn country, living in a run-down orphanage being welcomed into a picture-perfect family and home. And for the majority, that’s the truth. Children that are adopted are typically living in (or born into) less-than-ideal situations and find themselves being welcomed into a new home with open arms.
Or they picture Angelina Jolie.
Or Sandra Bullock.
Adoption IS a beautiful thing. But what people don’t realize is that sometimes, there’s a dark side. There are children with so many questions about who they are and where they came from that sometimes can’t be answered…..no matter how much their adoptive families would like to. They hear how much their cousins or siblings look like an aunt or Great Grandpa Albert’s brother, and they wonder who THEY look like. In medical emergencies, they don’t have a bloodline to turn to.
I come from a family who adopted a child. I am not the adoptive child, but I’ve lived through these moments with my own family. I lived through a period of my sibling’s life that was so ugly, that it’s changed me to my very core. It has taken me almost a decade to process it……to understand that it wasn’t me or my parents that caused the rage. It was more confusion and a feeling that they weren’t accepted in the ways other people were. And it started so young, that it just carried them through a significant portion of their lives….and just now, at the start of adulthood, do I finally see my sibling blossoming into a person with confidence and acceptance for who they are.
I don’t remember my parents adopting my sibling. I don’t remember our early years. I don’t remember a time of my life where my sibling wasn’t there – and therefore, when people say things like “the adopted sibling” or “the adopted child” – it pisses me off. Because to families with an adopted child, the word “adopted” isn’t there. They are someone’s sister or brother. They are someone’s child. That’s it.
Sometimes that child isn’t the same nationality as the rest of the family. Or they might be a blonde and the rest of the family is brunette. And then people (and especially children) that don’t understand this whole concept feel the need to point out these differences, and it’s not always in a kind way. And then that child who was adopted feels more like an outsider. And that feeling can grow and blossom and become a constant voice in the back of their head…. “You look different than your family” “Your skin is dark and your families is light, why?” “Your eyes are slanted and everyone in your family has big eyes” “Your mom is short but you’re so tall!” and the list goes on. Or the child finally gets the courage to find their birth families, and they find out that both their birth parents are dead and the country they come from keeps such terrible records, that there’s no tracing anyone else they could be related to.
There won’t be details with my post here. But I can tell you that my family went through some immense rage-filled moments with my sibling. To a point where my sibling had to be in a treatment center for awhile. I can tell you that my sibling went through some of the worst bullying as a younger child that I have ever heard of – and there’s a lot of bullying stories in the news these days. It makes me feel physically ill to think of what my sibling went through because they were adopted and looked at as different by classmates.
So I just simply ask, as with the message in many posts on here, that you teach your children about differences. And to teach them to ask questions instead of making fun. To talk to them about how LOVED a child that’s adopted is. That those children were wanted. And if you’re an adoptive family, know that your child might have some rough moments and a lot of questions, and the best thing you can do for them is to help them get answers. Don’t try to shield them from where they come from. And most importantly, keep loving that child with your whole heart, because they might have days where they really feel like nobody does. And if you were adopted, know how much your family wanted you. They waited a long time for you, they prayed for you, they dreamt about you. And the moment they first laid eyes on you, you were theirs. Forever and always.
