Growing up Adopted

My parents, my real parents who raised me, told me I was adopted from an early age. I vaguely remember a conversation at the kitchen table with mom and dad, them telling me what little they knew about my adoption. It may not have been the first conversation, but it was a conversation. I remember bits and pieces, them telling me they loved me, that my biological parents were young when they had me and couldn't give me the life I deserved, and that they were so grateful to have me in their lives.

I was never upset about being adopted. It was sort of a fact of life, no different than knowing you have brown hair. I'm adopted. In fact, I thought it was pretty cool. I was suddenly a mystery, well, my background was a mystery. I would figure out which celebrities were old enough to be my bio-parents and look for resemblances. The closest I came was a resemblance to Candace Cameron, and I would imagine that she was my sister. Plus, I was in love with the show Full House.

Some people would act weird when they learned I was adopted. Adults often didn't want to talk about it, and children didn't know what to make of it. Some adults would wonder if I knew. After telling someone on the school bus that I was adopted, something I thought was actually kinda cool, she told me she couldn't hang out with me because I was a mistake, which meant no one wanted me. My parents told me that many children are not planned, and that mistakes could be good sometimes. Regardless, I was wanted, no matter what. My parents always knew what to say to make me feel better.

Most surprising to many folks, old and young, is my willingness to talk about my adoption. Why hide it? I'm not ashamed. My parents aren't ashamed. My biological parents have nothing to be ashamed about either. In fact, I think that this whole situation is quite noble on the parts of the adults in the situation. My biological parents made a mature and difficult decision to give up a child so that she could have a better life. My parents opened their hearts and lives to a child who needed a home. How could anyone want to hide such strong actions?