We spend our lives relentlessly searching, through every waking moment, and every scattered dream. Unable to breath deeply until I find all the buried secrets, and connect with genetic matches, and see myself looking back in deep reflection, and feel family closeness – in my maternal sisters, though the gap years always exist. You love the family that raised you, and you create families of your own, and friends become chosen family, and you have more love than one human should have, and you are eternally grateful as all good adoptees are, and therapy brings you closer to connection – but the duality never stops. The lost child floating nearby,  just out of reach. It is a ticker tape that plays daily as you successfully navigate all normal life. And the only people that ever get it are those that also live(d) through it and keep seeking like you do. Survival depended on the many friends I have made traveling down these roads of discovery.

Ten years as a foster child. 47 years as an adoptee. 30 years of reconnecting and loving my maternal sisters. 14 years of having access to a redacted birth certificate. 12 years of DNA discovery leading to paternal truth. And though the pain of rejection, to provide his own protection, cuts me deep, I wouldn’t take back the knowing.

Many years of reading adoptee centric books,  listening to podcasts voiced by adoptees, watching documentaries, hearing others  speaking of their experiences, and unredacted truth. 10 years of building community with online adoptee groups and finally feeling grounded and understood by others, but most importantly,  feeling real to myself and breathing deep.