When I turned 18, my mother told me I was adopted. It was fortunate in many ways, because it was a kinship adoption — so I grew up knowing my birth mother as my aunt. In retrospect, she was my favorite aunt even though we only saw her during summer trips to my grandparents in Oklahoma. So maybe that says something about a bond between parents and children. Or maybe it has more to do with her being a really nice person. Or both.
When I found out I was adopted initial reaction was anger and then relief. I didn't understand why my parents didn't tell me this sooner. But I was also kind of relieved that I was special — set apart from my family. Of course this was a confusing time as I was finishing up high school and trying to sort out my sexuality. I quickly moved from anger to indifference. I was already an adult and going off to college. I had my life to live and couldn't really get bogged down by searching for my identity. It was also easier because I knew who my birth mother was and didn't need to build a relationship with her.
Like most teenagers, I couldn't really stand my family. As I was coming out and moving away to college, I found myself creating a new identity. A more complete and honest picture of myself. Of course I was in the closet so I put a lot of emotional distance between myself and my family just by keeping who I was becoming a secret. And it wasn't out of shame because I was doing something awful or dirty. It was just a built in side effect of growing up gay in a certain era, as if it was supposed to be secret ... just because. It was like a twisted rite of passage.
I was finally able to come out to my family a year or so later and my relationship with them course corrected itself and with more maturation I actually started to enjoy spending time with them. As we get older, I find myself getting closer and closer to my family. And it makes the wonderful times as a child even more precious. I am thankful for having a large family with brothers and sisters and a lot of cousins. It taught me how to love, to negotiate and to work together.
And it makes me want to have a family of my own, to add to that wonderful community. To give a child that sense of belonging and love. To share the ups and downs of being surrounded by a large, loving family — even if as a teenager they roll their eyes in embarrassment at how lame we are. I will be satisfied that one day they will look back and realize how wonderful it all was and make then long for creating a family of their own.
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