And then, the day after posting this, I met for coffee with one of my greatest allies in my latent search process (Marjorie, from the book). As I told her my latest struggles, which she sympathizes with, she said, “I wish *I* was adopted, because that would have meant I was wanted and chosen.” Taking a deep breath, I said as gently as possible, “That’s…really a myth. I was wanted, but I wasn’t chosen.” Reblogging today for a last-minute Flip The Script.
We were warned coming in this was going to be a bitch session.
One at a time, we drag a chair into the circle. Among our own, everything we had kept pent up for weeks, months, years, or a lifetime, soon came pouring out.
“If one more person says, ‘Please respect my decision,’ when they really mean, ‘Fuck off,’ I’m going to lose my mind.”
“‘Get over it’? Can you imagine saying that to an orphan? ‘So your parents died when you were a baby. That was a long time ago. You should be over it by now. Can’t you just be happy with your new parents?” ~ “‘Can’t you just be happy all the time?’ is what they really mean. Adoptees as people instead of rescued babies make the non-adopted uncomfortable.”
“People who should know better say, ‘I wish I was adopted,’ not realizing they are…
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elle cuardaigh 