I'm adopted, and I'm proud

The one piece of advice I can give to anyone who has been adopted, is to be proud.

I am adopted. It’s not something I am ashamed of or have wished for difference. It is normal to me. I’ve always known that I was adopted and had some friends that I could relate with. My adoption was a closed adoption meaning that there was no information provided to either to my biological mother or my adoptive family.

I was adopted at 18 months, so 1 year and 6 months. My whole life there has always been so much curiosity, excitement, and hope to learn more about my biological family and hopefully getting the chance to form a connection with my birth mom. Questions asking why? What is your life like? How did you end up with having to give your kids up for adoption? Who am I? What experiences have you been through that has shaped you into the person you are. What stories do you hold? How did you start getting involved into drugs and an unhealthy life style? My whole 17 years existing have been full of questions and hope for future connection with my birth mother. A big motivation for me to grow older was having the opportunity to getting to know more about my history when I turn 18.

The women who filled my desires and hopes has died. Her name was Tammy and she has been dead since I was five. It was all too soon, It was too late. I have come aware of this information due to my biological half sister’s recent presence in my life, Jasmine. Jasmine is 21 and has hired investigators to investigate information about our biological family. She found out that she has a younger sister, me, that was born in Santa Cruz County. So she made the trip to Santa Cruz and connected with my adoption coordinator who reached out to my family. These past 4 months have been one hell of a ride and is continuing but its been good.

I have been blessed with the family I have been given, and I couldn’t imagine it different. I don’t know where I would be in life or even if I would still be alive. My family is my biggest support team and has stuck by my side through thick and thin. When I didn’t love myself, they loved me and all my imperfections. When I stoped caring about myself, the continued to care for me. When I gave up on myself, they believed in my more than ever. No matter how hard I’ve tried them to give up on me, or push them away, I’ve realized that there is no possible way to get rid of them. They're magnets, and I’ve realized that I have some of the best parents. Who love me for who I am, no matter what I do wrong, they're love for me will always be.

My parents have taught me to love life as it is, and that if you're unhappy with your surroundings, don't be afraid to branch out and explore to make sure you find what you love, and never stop doing it. They taught me that no matter what, everyone will always fail at something in life, but it's how you respond and come back from being knocked down.

Being adopted, I learned early that the definition of words like "parent," "mom," and "dad" are not necessarily the same for everyone. I don’t consider the women who gave birth to me “my mom”. My parents are the ones that have raised me, the ones that have unconditional love for me, the ones that have inspired me to appreciate life and all that it has to offer. My parents are the ones that I call Mom, and Dad.

Saturday August, 17, 2019 was the day that I found out about my birth’s mothers death. I was overwhelmed with emotions. I feel hopeless about this reality. I feel lonely, and discouraged. That day I found out that she died of an overdose, she was only 47. My birth father and her had a one night kind of thing and in the process she was on birth control. Not expecting, I came out. My mom and dad are calling me miracle baby due to the fact that I was born by a women at an older age and that the women was on birth control.

As this has come about, I have been really appreciative of my parents and their unconditional love and support along the way. Also realizing the importance of our connection. It isn't easy being a parent, adoptee or biological. Raising a chid is hard and being the child is hard too. I have struggled along the way growing up and so has my parents raising me. My parents go way off the deep end for things that they blame themselves. Such as not being in my life sooner when I was born. This is a ridiculous thing to blame yourself, I would and could never blame them for this. I am proud of them for all of their hard work, loyalty, support, unconditional love, willingness, perseverance, strength, acceptance, tough love, and big bear hugs. I wouldn't want to have different parents than them. This road has been bumpy and one sure hell of a ride, but I couldn't imagine difference.