I realized after talking on the phone the other day with a fellow black transracial adoptee that I have great difficulty articulating how I feel and what I think about adoption issues and my specific adoption experiences. It is relatively easy to sit here at the computer and tap out some thoughts and easy enough to write in my journal, but very hard to actually say the words and thoughts out loud. I think it is because I have talked about them – person to person – so little. I have tried to explain my feelings about adoption to some friends and family but I leave out a lot and I’m never sure just how much I can/will reveal about my true feelings. How honest can I be? How much can I admit about myself publicly? Do I put myself at risk of ridicule or rejection if I speak honestly? I am so used to holding back, keeping it in, considering other peoples’ feelings and reactions, it is really hard to get out my feelings even when I want to and when it feels safe. It is easier to write them out after the fact. So I do that in my journal. But I often think it would be nice to be honest with others – with myself – all the time. The fact is, I worry a lot about what other people think. I tell myself I don’t care, but I do. I told my mother I was writing an adoption based blog because I didn’t want to keep secrets, considering my whole life is a secret, or have to hide things from her. I don’t think she reads it anyway, but in case any family member should find themselves here, there are limits to what I will/can write.
I also tend to assume people don’t really want to hear the specifics of my life… that they are too boring to tell. So I don’t always say much. And although I think I am friendly, I’m shy and reserved by nature. So it takes time for me to get to know people and for them to get to know me. I think I sometimes get written off as aloof, quiet, boring; despite this blog, which I decided to do semi-anonymously, I’m private (really!) and afraid of people. I put myself out there, but tentatively.
I want this blog to be more than just my little therapy bubble and self-indulgent ramblings. But I can’t seem to help myself. I know how much I like to hear and read about other adoptees – particularly transracial adoptees – and how they feel and think about love, loss, family, relationships and identity…. so I figure it doesn’t hurt. Listening to another black adoptee talk about her experiences felt good. Really great actually. Our experiences weren’t all the same of course, though there were some interesting similarities. Most importantly, I heard her say she has never, ever felt like she belonged anywhere and that rejections from the black community/individuals are what have hurt the most. I totally relate to that, and hearing that makes me feel less of an oddity. I have spent a lot of my past life trying to fit in, and also a lot of time on my own not bothering to try to connect with anyone. These days I try to accept all the different parts of me and not apologize – too much – for them. It is a work in progress.
There will always be those with “BUT you got a loving family, and there are REAL orphans so much more worse off than you!” comebacks.
In fact, that’s what many people will say to you if you talk about adoption.
Because ya know, there’s “always” someone more “worse off” than you, and you know if you weren’t adopted, you would “be complaining about something else.”
/witty response
missinpiece,
Once again you write things that so closely echo my own thoughts (and fears, and frustrations) that it’s a little eerie. I too worry about what other people think, a lot more than I should. I try not to and sometimes will even say that I don’t care, but it’s hard. When I think about my entire fate hinging on other people’s acceptance of me (I know in reality it was probably more complicated than that) it makes a little more sense.
I too get “written off” as quiet, boring, aloof — and have even been told such. It takes a while for people to get to know the *real* me (as opposed to the side of me that I choose to show), and many people never do.
Anyway, thank you for this post, and for your blog.
Sang-Shil: Thanks! I’m enjoying your blog as well. I’m glad to find that when I actually put stuff ‘out there’, I’m not totally on my own. Makes me think I’ll keep it up for awhile.
Mei-Ling: Those comebacks are really annoying! Do you have any witty responses for me? I need to keep a list!
Unfortunately, no, I don’t.
I only wish I did. >_<
When I came off stage yesterday, the auditorium was empty and I wondered if I’d offended the people who invited me to present…I always doubt I did a good job until someone gives me feedback that tells me I did ok. Shadra suggested I tape myself so I can SEE what the audience sees and STOP playing the guessing game. Everyone needs validation; everyone has a story to tell, and everyone needs to know that story matters. Which is why I’m so glad you keep this blog…I can’t be your video camera, though I wish you could know that when you came to Brooklyn, NO ONE thought you were quiet or boring or aloof…in fact, people were dying to get next to you–you laugh a lot, you’re vivacious yet humble and that adds to your attractiveness…so often we let our own insecurities hold us back, and it takes a long time to unlearn that behavior; maybe some of it stays with us forever–we long to be embraced, but fear we’ll be rejected. I’m so glad you met another black transracial adoptee, and that you found common ground. People blog about what they ate for lunch…what you write about MATTERS, so I hope you’ll hold back less. remember what audre said: “your silence will not protect you.” (or anyone else!)
Z: The guessing game is never productive is it? Someone once told me I had to test out my fears and insecurities a bit in the real world and not just let them go round and round in my head. And when I do venture out, reach out or put myself out there, sometimes I am rewarded. Not always though, and so I haven’t yet figured out how many steps forward, how many backward… I don’t think silence helps me, though it does “protect” some people in my life… No, you’re not my video camera, (LOL) but you do give me a whole lot of loving support. Thanks as always for reading – and validating – my little blog.