Project 2000

#206. I always feel awful saying this but I hate my mom. She is crazy, yeah yeah she adopted me and saved me from an orphanage; but I have nothing but hate for her. She treats me like dirt and no one understands. They say, “But she saved you.” But I just hate her so much. I shouldn’t feel this way but I do. Does anyone understand me?

#211. Anger. Sometimes my parents upset me so much and I miss my home culture so much that I consider having people call me by my birth name instead of the name I was given when I was adopted.

The second to last really killed me.

Everything about me - my eyes, hair, skin, smile, bones, blood, fingernails, veins - came from two people I may never see or know. I’m the only proof of their existence. ….Something about all this breaks my heart - ironically, the heart that they gave me.

#130. When people think of adoption, they really don’t understand what it’s like. They don’t understand how mentally draining it is. You’re stuck between two families. They don’t know each other, but they have an equally large place in your heart. For some reason, you feel the need to pick which family you love more. It isn’t easy and it makes you feel like a horrible, horrible person.

#119. I’m tired of not knowing anything about myself. I’m tired of not knowing where or who I came from. I’m tired of not knowing/not being allowed to know who I was originally. I’m tired of being told to wait, to not be so “selfish”, and to not feel the horrible pain that I’ve always had deep down. I’m sick, tired, and fed up with not knowing why.

If you were adopted, I want to tell you that you deserve love. It is not a level of emotion that you have to earn, that you can be undeserving of. I wore the low self worth complex like a patch, and I don’t want you to. It’s not a badge. I love you when you feel lost between your birth family and your adoptive family. I love you when it’s your adoption day and outsiders think it’s like a second birthday. I want to hold your hand and just hug you and we can do whatever you want that day. I know it’s not a birthday, and mine makes me mourn like a funeral, but maybe yours does not. I love you when the doctor asks for your family medical history and you say you don’t know. “I’m adopted,” I tell them. This usually clears it up, but I get sad too that I don’t know. I love you when certain movies, songs, and smells bring you back to that childhood awareness. The Rescuers used to make me cry as a kid. 4 or 5 years old and bawling over mice, but it was never about the mice. I love you when you just want to say “I miss my ______” and you haven’t even met them. I love you when this world could make you hate, when you have every decent reason to close your heart off and you still see the good. I love you when you remind me that we all have these scars in different places. We all have these scars. In different places. I love you.

just a curious question?