It seems at every juncture I turn and run smack into adoption. I consciously try to avoid it, but it seems to seek me out.
For four decades I just lived my life and denied my otherly status. Let me tell you: that wasn’t a healthy strategy, though the world seemed very content with that. Then for a half dozen years I steeled myself and faced what it means to be adopted head-on. It was at that juncture that I suddenly found myself being labeled as having issues…
I bristle at the unfairness of that. The issues were not of my making yet I am supposed to absorb them effortlessly and without question?
Perhaps if the issues were isolated events. But they are not. They are continuing, chronic occurrences that confound and complicate daily.
I’m happy I got sent to America. I’m not happy I…
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