Despite not being blood-related, my adoptive family is very much my family. I never even use the term “adoptive parents” because to me, my parents are my real parents, adoptive or not, and the term is only used to clear up confusion.
Growing up, I never had any lingering thoughts about my birth mother, nor did I ever have an urge to locate her.
The only information I have about her is that she was 19 and a college student when she had me. I also know I was born in Miami. And, honestly, it was all the information I ever needed.
I felt no missing hole in my heart where "she" should have been and no times when I yearned for her presence. I still feel this way 27 years later, but as of late, my curiosity has piqued.
I now find myself contemplating her whereabouts more often than I once did. Perhaps this is because I feel as though I’m finally ready to deal with the consequences that could come with looking for her and because I’d like to learn more about my biological family.
I believe in destiny and I know she is somewhere out there in the world, perhaps trying to find me, too. Even if she’s not, I feel like I have so many things to say and I’ve always been much better at writing than verbalizing when it comes to my emotions.
The truth is, she may never see this letter… but on the off-chance that somehow, someday she does see it, I will know that I was able to express myself freely.
With the intent to leave a piece of my heart behind with each keystroke, I hope that someday, the woman who gave birth to me will be able to answer some of these questions:
Do you think of me?
Do I exist in your life? Am I on your mind, as you are on mine? Or, have you long forgotten me? If it’s the latter, I understand. I imagine it would be difficult to keep the memory of me as an infant alive, as you only knew me for a short while before you had to say goodbye.
I just wonder if you ever catch yourself wondering where I am and wondering if I’m happy. Do you tell people about me? Or, am I a secret? Perhaps I am a negative memory you have buried deep within you.
Do you have any pictures left of me? Do you still celebrate my birthday?
Or, is it a somber day, where you feel a knot in your throat and a pang in your heart, as you think of the day I was born? Or perhaps, you feel nothing at all.
No matter the answer, I just hope someday I’ll know the truth, and that the memory of me doesn't cause you too much pain.
Where is my biological father?
It’s weird because every time I think of you, I think only of you, and never of the other person responsible for my birth. I guess I just feel like if I was going to be close with someone of biological interest, it would be you.
I feel drawn to you more than to him in my thoughts, and I’m not sure if that is just because I’m a female, you are the one who carried me or because my subconscious is trying to tell me he’s no longer in the picture.
I believe in true love and happy endings, so sometimes, I find myself reverting back to my childlike daydreams and I think of you and my birth father happily married, living a life of bliss.
Maybe you were college sweethearts? If not, I wonder about your relationship with him and I hope despite the circumstances, it was a positive relationship, as he is also responsible for my creation.
Do I have siblings?
As the youngest in my adoptive family, I feel my heart flutter at the thought that I could potentially be the oldest in your family — if you decided to have more children.
It blows my mind that I could unknowingly have little sisters and brothers somewhere in this world, perhaps only a few years younger than I am. If you do have children, do they know about me? Or, is this just another aspect of your life that you have chosen not to share with them?
If they don’t know about my existence, I won’t be upset, but if they do, I would love to meet them someday.
Am I like you?
If I had to pick the most difficult part of being adopted, I suppose this would be it.
I am constantly envious of those who can say “I have my mother’s nose” or “I have my father’s eyes,” as these are things I have never known. I know you were a ballet dancer, so do I have you to thank for my long legs and stature?
Did you give me my prominent nose? Do I have you to blame for my hair?! All kidding aside, I wish I could see your face one day and see if the resemblance is there.
If meeting you isn’t possible, I’d long for a picture, just so I could look at it from time to time and put an actual face to this person I created and decorated in my mind. Perhaps I am a cookie-cutter image of you and the picture would be like looking into a mirror.
I also wonder if our personalities match well. Did I get my writing ambition from you? My quick temper, my loud laugh? Is it nature or nurture? I hope someday, I’ll find out.
When I think of all the questions I have for you, I forget you may have some for me, too, were our paths ever to cross. You may never set your eyes on this letter, but I believe in fate, and maybe, since we share the same DNA, you’re a believer, too.
In case you’re wondering, I suppose I should go forward and calm any fears and confirm any thoughts you have of my well-being.
Perhaps just seeing these words will be enough for you and provide the closure you need, or maybe, it will spark an interest to know more, but either way, I feel as though these statements need to be made.
Wherever you are in the world, I hope you know I am okay. I’m more than okay, in fact; I am happy. I was lucky enough to be adopted into the greatest family in the world. Seriously, if I had my choice, I would have picked them myself, and I’m not just saying that because they’ll read this letter!
I am supported, loved and appreciated daily, and I hope you know how lucky I feel each day that I am able to call these people my family and my best friends.
Put mildly, we have a freakin’ blast together. Maybe someday, you’ll get to meet them. We are a crazy bunch, but I think you’d like them.
I have been afforded many opportunities; I got an education and am working toward making something of myself because I want to make them proud. I don’t want you to worry, even for a second, that I haven’t been properly cared for because I’m luckier than most.
That sentiment alone should make YOU proud. You did the right thing because I couldn’t imagine my life without them.
I’m not mad at you.
I’m not upset with you for what you chose to do. I feel no ill will toward you or the decision you made. I am grateful you chose to give me a life and I feel that way each day, as I try and become a better person.
I’m not mad you decided on a closed adoption. I think I would have made that same choice, as it would be too difficult to see my daughter grow up and not be able to call her my own. You were young and maybe scared, and that is okay.
I hope you were able to fulfill the dreams you had before I came into the picture and are living the life you’ve always imagined you would have. Just so you know, though, I bet you could have done it — raise me, that is.
Maybe I’m just being naïve, but I wouldn’t ever stop believing in you and your abilities as a mother.
I’ll never forget you.
I think of you often; lately, it seems as though you cross my mind daily. I hope someday, fate allows us to meet each other, face to face. I wonder if you’re happy – if your life turned out how you hoped it would.
I have so many questions and I am so curious about your life and your family. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want to know everything. However, if this isn’t possible, don’t worry.
I will make peace with it and continue forward with the image I have of you in my head… and that will never disappear.
I’m still waiting.
The worst part is the unknown. Wondering if you’re even trying to find me or if you’d rather not know and have relinquished my memory completely. If you are trying to find me, I hope you know I am open and ready. I will not turn you away, no matter the circumstances.
Perhaps putting this letter out into the world will tempt fate to do the rest. I just hope you realize how much I appreciate you giving me life because I feel blessed with all that I have.
Maybe someday, we can meet over hot chocolate, but until that day comes, I’m afraid you will just have to exist in my dreams.
Just know, if the opportunity arises, we don’t have to meet as mother and daughter… rather, just two people who share the same genes and haven’t seen each other in a while.
I’m in if you are.