My birth mother hasn’t texted me in weeks. My adoptive mother hasn’t texted me in months. As I prepare to leave the U.S., I’m as comfortable with those two realities as I can reasonably be. I don’t doubt that both women loved me in their own way, but ultimately, there were significant gaps in their parenting decisions. Parenting is a project that inevitably leaves scars, and I can’t fault these two women for their gaps of knowledge. I might question their lack of desire to co

Both my examples of family dynamics (adoptive and biological families) did not leave a healthy example to follow. So much of what my partner and I are creating together feels like trial and error. I do not have a script to copy. I do not automatically know what family traditions should look like, what economical choices to make to ensure long-term career satisfaction, or how conflict is usually handled in a safe home.

A few days after meeting my extended birth family for the first time, I had returned to my home in Guam and went back to work. That first Monday flew by and I drove home feeling dazed and detached. I turned off the radio to concentrate, my mind buzzing with a thousand small worries. When I got home, my dogs rushed to greet me. Halfway through our usual hello's, the overwhelm got to me. "Back up!" I snapped, pulling off my purse and keys like they were burning me. My body felt

Adoption Reunion for Adoptees and Birth Parents involves preparing with adoption therapy, searching for birth family, and first contact

For adoptees, the more we read the words of other adoptees, the stronger our thread of self becomes.

Six months after I left Guam to deal with a family emergency, I returned to find two happy wagging tails at the door and the exploded remnants of my couch cushions in the living room. My dogs, Riley and Riker, have never been apart from me this long. My husband had been managing everything solo while I tied up some family and medical matters back in the states. In the last two months of my absence, he flew out to meet me. The dogs were left behind with a seasoned pet sitter.

A loud bang and clatter make me jump. I nearly drop the contact lens precariously balancing on my index finger, and as I lean forward to adjust it, a shooting pain rocks through my right leg. I sigh. My crutches have slid from their perch and slammed onto the floor of the narrow hallway in mother-in-law's house. I ignore them. I really should just use my wheelchair, but I'm too stubborn and antsy to slowly squeak around my in-law's house now that I can finally tolerate some w

Birthmom. Bio Mom. First mom. Mama. When I was a very little girl, as young as five or six, I would play a strange, demented version of...

"You look so happy" they said, snapping the photo of me with my hands raised in the outline of a gingerbread man at a Christmas light...

Looking back, it is clear that at the core of many confusing family dynamics and parenting decisions I experienced in my adoptive home, there was a deeper mistrust and fear coming from my adoptive parents. My adoptive mother was particularly skeptical of everything about me. My interests? Absurd. My intentions? Bad. My attempts to communicate emotions? Attention seeking. Maybe even lying. My attempts to comply and excel academically and otherwise? Probably just a cover. I was

After seemingly hundreds of different documents, a hefty bank transfer, and no small amount of nerves, my partner and I finally posed for...

I stumbled upon the social profile of an elementary friend I had lost touch with long ago. As I scrolled through the highlights of her life, she appeared exactly how I remembered her. Although her features had barely matured, she seemed more fulfilled and robust after a decade to grow into herself. She is married with a baby now. The joyful spirit of her childhood still colors her digital presence. I smiled at how familiar it all seemed, even though we haven't spoken in over

Adoptees often learn to live with a strange sort of absence that is rarely named and even rarer felt. For non-adoptees, absences are concrete. A gravestone. A nostaligic memory. A big finale. For adoptees, these absences are whispers and shadows that overtake our unexpected daily joys. Let me give you an example. Just the other evening, an indie movie was showing at the local theater. The film piqued my interest, so my husband and I made a date out of it. I enjoyed the film a

A few years ago, I happened to be conversing with a new friend who asked me what I liked to do for fun. At the time, I was delving deep into the history of adoption in the U.S. I had been doing quite a bit of work examining both the sociological and historical conditions that accelerated the popularization and legislation of modern adoption so I shared this hobby with them. The conversation inevitably led to the fact that I myself am an adoptee. I shared a little bit about “c

Adoptees and Relationships: How do adoptees deal with conflict? What are some ways adoptees can handle interpersonal relationship conflict?

Adoptive family and birthdays are a tricky component to navigate. Join me as I handle the reality of birthdays as an adult adoptee

Pre-birthday tension is actually very common for people who have been adopted. Here's what it's like for me, as a military spouse & adoptee

Although I am not a mother myself, I’ve browsed enough birth vlogs on YouTube to have a good idea of what happens when a baby is born....