I am adopted, and last week it was my birthday.
For a long time, I didn’t talk to people about the negative parts of being adopted, of being relinquished through abandonment and growing up with no information about my first, or biological, family.
The reality is though, that I am both a transracial and intercountry adoptee, and this has had and continues to have a huge emotional impact on my life and my identity.
However, even a fairly neutral statement like above is often in direct conflict with the commonly accepted and superficial narrative that society and the general population have of adoption. Many consider adoption a ‘cut and paste’ exercise into making a family; a beautiful opportunity to ‘save a child’ from poor or difficult circumstances. A happy ending, not to be spoken about further.
Historically, there has been little consideration given to the birth or first family, or to the ongoing difficulties adoptees face after their adoption. In fact, it was not uncommon for adoptees who spoke out about their struggles to be ostracized and shamed, a common reply being that 'they were ungrateful to their adoptive parents' and should consider themselves 'lucky to have a family'.
However, the reality of adoption is that it is nuanced, complex, lifelong, and always has loss at its core. For a new family to be created, there is always a loss of an original one.
For me, birthdays now bring up conflicting and bittersweet emotions.
As a child, I happily celebrated and looked forward to my birthdays. I have very loving parents who always put the utmost effort into giving me wonderful memories. It is true that when I think about my early birthdays, I recall happily choosing cakes, excitedly opening presents, playing party games and being surrounded by my friends and my family. In some ways, I could not have wished for happier memories.
Growing up I tried not to think about my adoption, desperately trying to reject the ‘thing’ that made me different to my family and my peers and really, pretty much everyone that I knew.
However, after many years of personal therapy, I no longer try to escape from the fact I was adopted, and I feel a lot more connected to my first mother. I see her as an integral part of my story and myself. I understand that I came from somewhere - specifically - someone. Someone that I was completely dependent on for 9 months or so... I listened to their heartbeat day after day, they were all I felt and were my entire world, and then suddenly they were gone forever.
So now, each year, I spend a portion of my birthday wondering about the well-being of that person, who they were or are, and if they think about me. It’s a strange type of painful longing. Nancy Varrier in her 1993 book calls the separation of mother and child shortly after childbirth a ‘primal wound’.
Like many adoptees, especially those who are internationally adopted, I will likely never know details about my life and my story that others take for granted: When and where was I born? Do I look like my birth mother? Do I have other siblings? Do my birth parents miss me? What is my medical history? Am I from a big family? What is my ancestry? Where does my family fit in my birth culture?
On my birthdays, or around the time I was born (because my birthday is estimated) I find it hard to imagine that there isn’t someone, somewhere out there thinking of me and what became of my life. Out of any time during the year, it is, after all, the most likely.
Every adoptee will have different feelings about their adoption, their first family, themselves, and their birthdays. We all have different personal histories, different experiences, and different upbringings. Some will be able to celebrate their birthdays happily while others will struggle.
A Google Search with the terms ‘adoptees and birthdays’ will show top results from adoptees blogging about their emotional difficulties. From the website Reddit, the top suggestion is ‘Do most adoptees hate their birthdays too?’. Facebook groups I am a part of comprised of transracial adoptees from all over the world often have posts by adoptees about their difficulties with birthdays and not meeting the societal expectations of wanting a celebration.
The difficulty can then come if people around them, such as work colleagues, friends or adoptive family insist there should be a celebration and the adoptee should be grateful, smiling and happy for the duration. For a lot of adoptees, birthdays can represent a day of loss and trying to force someone to repress and ignore their feelings generally leads to mental harm.
Already adoptees have a higher risk of suicide, depression, anxiety, and other psychiatric disorders than those who are not adopted. A 2021 survey by Adoption UK revealed there are double the number of adoptees between the ages of 16 and 25 involved in the mental health system than those who are not adopted.
Keeping the above in mind, it is therefore incredibly important that adoptees find safe spaces where they can acknowledge and process their grief, pain or trauma instead of having it dismissed or denied.
These are just a few coping strategies that may prove helpful:
Ultimately, I hope that every adoptee can find the space they need to be with their feelings, on their birthdays and every other day of the year.
Of course, some adoptees may not struggle through their birthdays at all, and find their birthdays a completely happy experience of celebrating their history and life. This is, of course, also completely valid and absolutely nothing to feel guilty about either.
Adoptees may struggle with birthdays or any other significant milestones or family gatherings. Please be accepting of this and understanding of adoptees who may need time and space to process the complexity and trauma of adoption.
Perhaps if you have adoptees in your life, have adopted children, adopted friends, or work with adoptees in a professional setting – please take a moment to ensure you are not invalidating the grief of adoptees or oversimplifying their story.
Like most aspects of life, things are not black and white but comprised of many shades. I can personally be simultaneously grieving the loss of my first mother, while also very happy to speak to my adoptive mother. I can feel longing and sadness for my lost name, language, culture, and ancestry, while also being grateful for the privileges associated with my adopted nationality.
Adoption is not simple, and for some of us neither are our birthdays.
Thank you for leaving a link on my own WordPress. I understand and appreciate your own experience.