And I am adopted. Twice as a matter of fact. This is a huge topic and I intend to write extensively on it. But I haven’t. Yet. Soon.
In trying to get to know more about the blogging community, I “subscribed” to the “tag” (hee, hee, this is all blog-speak) “adoptee” thinking I’ll find like experiences out there. This exercise got me thinking. Why, in 47 years, don’t I have any adopted friends? My first thought is because being adopted makes one “special.” This is important to reassure the child that they are wanted. So, if I was introduced to someone else who was adopted and, if we happened to ever become friends, then logic would follow that I may not be as special. Besides, chances are, our similarities would stop there.
But then, in briefly scanning a couple adoptee blogs, I see that we have so much more in common. There are infinite feelings and experiences that arise in our lives that make us sisters and brothers in adoption and I find that I wish to explore this more.
