ADOPTED LOVE - (SOMETHING I EXPERIENCED)

Distance is something resented by most. We crave to be close to the ones we love, no matter what state we are in. It’s almost instinctive to want to be loved and in many cases to want to cherish those you feel close to, and thus those you call ‘family’. For others it’s a lot harder. Consider if you may, not even knowing the very mother you were born from.

If that’s the case then the term ‘family’ becomes ever so slightly more distorted. For anyone pondering what the state I’m referring to actually is then let’s use the term ‘adoption’ or ‘adopted’. (I’m not talking about the WWF adverts where you can sponsor Tony the Tiger somewhere in Siberia and receive a framed picture, this concerns humans). To me, family means those closest and not always of genetic matches (although, obviously, I have no choice with this). For instance my closest friends are people throughout my life I have been able to consider family too. Yet when questions are raised or I ponder the matter of adoption too long it is changed completely in my own mind.

Imagine, if you will, a desire for an answer to a question to which you know nobody around you can offer any sort of answer that will suffice? Then, imagine this further, for example wondering about this since you were seven years old. A question unanswered is like a seed; it grows and forever blossoms in your own mind, and one that concerns your very origin grows even further resulting in, at times, you questioning your very own self.

Albeit confusing enough to read, trying to muster up the correct words to summarise how it feels to be adopted is very difficult. It’s nothing to do with courage, however, more so making sure it reflects correctly when read. For I’m not some sort of pathetic dribble concerned only with finding my birth mother, far from this in fact I’m quite content with my life as it is. Yet it’s only natural, and apparent that when you’re posed with the thought of being adopted it only evokes a lot of sadness. Although not being something recurring, it’s hard to ignore at times; I notice especially that when I have struggled in my life the thought of adoption comes into my mind, quite probably because I associate this with sadness and thus it comes out in relation.

It’s nothing to be confused about, though. My mother and father are the two people I have known as such for my whole life, I consider myself lucky to have such understanding parents who told me about my adoption at a young age so I could try and come to terms with it, something obviously easier said than done. This is what makes me consider myself special, yes I have a genetic mother and father out there somewhere but I have my real parents (emphasis on the ‘real’) who have made me the person I am today. In my own eyes, the woman who gave birth to me will never be considered my ‘mother’, does this bother me? Not in the slightest. Yes, adoption is difficult, but for me it turned out for the best .