Chosen.

Blood isn't always thicker than water.

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Unrelated

School does not prepare you to be a writer at all! I've noticed since starting this blog that I always want to curb my actual feelings and write what I think other people want to hear, what will get me an 'A'. It's been drilled into my mind all throughout school that "you can't say this" and "you can't write like that" and now look at me I can even figure out hot to correctly express my feelings in a blog... (although it's getting easier as I go along) this is totally unrelated to the purpose of the blog *shrugs*

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Who/What are you?

Often I am asked if I would want to meet my birth parents and my answer is always the same. No. Although I don't know them, I love them, they gave me the greatest gift I could ever receive, a life that they could never have given me. But I am not interested in meeting them at this point in my life. There is a little part in me that wants to know why I was given up, why did they make the choice that they did? But to know them... To meet them..? Why? I have a family that loves me. Why do I need to meet the people who gave me up? However, I would like to know my nationality... I've been told many a time that I look like I'm African... but I don't know. It's so frustrating to not have an answer when someone asks me what my nationality is.

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I love how you've created something for this. I hope this blog because a success!

Thank you for your support!

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My siblings, Marshall and Maggy and I.

[rorychvc-deactivated20150113]

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Natural hair care for children, transracial adoption, and everything in-between.

Awesome story! I can't even begin to tell you the hair struggle that I've been through. 

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You know, as I've gotten older, my parents have been telling me more and more stories that I don't remember about me as a child and even stories involving us now which I will share in later posts, the common denominator in theses stories is always people not thinking that they are my parents. When this happens to me, as in, people don't recognize them as my parents, sure it feels awkward but I laugh it off. But the pain it must be for a parent to not be recognized as the mother or father of their beloved child must be unfathomable. This is a thought that has never really crossed my mind until now. How must it feel for a parent to be with their child and someone ask them who they are or ask me where my parents are when they're standing right there. and that look, oh the look that I get when I finally explain to them that my parent is standing right there (yes, that tall white man is my father!) is something else.... It's a look of confusion and a little apprehension and of course I can't be mad at them for feeling this way, it's not every day that you see a family like mine (or is it?!).

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An Adoption Awareness Month Request: Check Your Prejudices

My parents and I just got back from a cruise to the Bahamas and two people on separate occasions asked me if I was my dad's wife. What's more, a Peruvian ship worker also asked us, "Is that your daughter? But she looks like a China woman!"

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What's it like to be adopted?

What's it like to be adopted?

Well, I'll tell you what I don't feel first.

I don't feel different

I don't feel awkward

I don't feel like I'm trying to be someone else

It's difficult to tell you what it's like to be adopted because it is normal to me. The only difference is my mother didn't give birth to me.. But what's that got to do with ANYTHING? Family doesn't mean blood. Family means love. (So cliché, sorry) But seriously, this is the only family I know and I love them. I have been loved unconditionally since I was born even if it wasn't from my birth family. I would like to think that I was given up out of love but why dwell on why I was given up when I can think about how I was specially chosen?