As though it wasn't enough to be confused about my identity because of my adoption, increasingly I seemed to be confused about my identity as an adoptee. How do I fit into those who identify as adult adoptees? Am I angry? Am I calm? Am I overly-simplistic? Am I too nuanced? Am I holier-than-thou about my exceedingly clever views about adoption? Have I not thought through the issues well enough?
I'm not making sense. I know this. That's okay. This is my blog. I don't have to make sense if I don't want to.
I read so much about adoption. And I see so many adoptees speak with authority about their ways of viewing adoption. In books. In articles. On the web. Some of them I admire. Some of them seem condescending. Some of them seem confident, and some just as lost as I feel.
How I feel about adoption, about all my families, is... complicated. And I'd be the first to admit that I "deal" with a lot of that complication by minimizing its impact on my life. I live nearly a thousand miles from any relative, adopted or blood. I keep distance between myself and my families, as a result I do not have to confront and settle conflicting emotions about them.
I would never claim nurture doesn't matter. Obviously how I grew up affected me in profound ways. But I have worked so hard to forget it, going back twenty years, long before I was really willing to confront adoption issues. And it seems obvious to me that nature matters.
Growing up without other adoptees around meant that I didn't know what was "normal" for an adoptee (if there is such a thing). I had no one to talk about it with. Now, reading about how others think through the various issues, I still sometimes feel like I'm a stranger in a strange land. And the problem is, I don't know anywhere that doesn't feel like that.