Howdy! I’m reblogging this post from exactly nine years ago today. As I reread it, a wave of thoughts, feelings, and emotions came forward all at once. It has been a long time since I’ve actively reflected on my own adoption, and yet I know it is always there, just beneath the surface.

I hope you’ll take a moment to read the post. My hope is that it offers a deeper understanding of the complexity of transnational (or international) and transracial adoption.

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Hello folks! It’s Sunday morning, and the skies are gray in my lovely locale. Nevertheless, I’m enjoying the weekend, despite the clouds.

Today, I want to talk about adoption. Yes, that’s a given, but I have something more specific in mind.

For the past seven years, I have actively sought out and read blogs, books, scholarly research, adoptee forums, birth mother narratives, and adoptive parent spaces in search of connection, knowledge, resources, and validation. What I have found is a vast spectrum of perspectives on adoption, so many it feels impossible to neatly categorize them. The landscape is wide, varied, and deeply human, shaped by experience, identity, and lived reality.

As an international and transracial adoptee, my own perspective on adoption has continued to evolve. I don’t think it is uncommon for our views to shift as we experience personal growth and, for lack of a better term, mature. Adoptees often hold deeply personal perspectives on adoption, shaped by their own lived experiences, identities, and circumstances.

I’ve spoken with adult adoptees who are not particularly interested in connecting with their cultural roots or birth heritage, nor in searching for their birth families. Perhaps there is some curiosity, but not yet a compelling enough reason or desire to pursue that path. Other adoptees speak strongly against international adoption, and their concerns are often rooted in very real and painful experiences.

International adoption carries a complicated and, at times, troubling history. There are countless adoptees who were adopted through illegal or unethical practices, including cases where agencies and adoptive parents were aware that information had been falsified. These deeply harmful practices continue to occur in parts of the world today. The evidence exists, and while these realities are often difficult to confront, they cannot be ignored.

I have several friends who are adoptive parents and have adopted children internationally from China, India, Africa, Ethiopia, and Russia. They, too, hold strong and deeply personal perspectives on international adoption. At times, perhaps even often, my friends and I do not see eye to eye; nevertheless, we remain friends, and I value the ability to hold space for different experiences and viewpoints.

I strongly believe in family preservation and in expanding access to resources and support services that allow children to remain with their biological families whenever possible. As an adopted person, that belief is something I cannot look past. And yet, we live in a world where adoption continues to exist and thrive, even as international adoption has declined in many places.

At times, I feel conflicted because I carry my own complicated feelings about adoption while also supporting my friends and other adoptive parents. Ultimately, my deepest concern is the well-being of children, whether they are adopted or not.

What I particularly struggle with across the landscape of adoption is judgment and the way we judge one another based on our beliefs, experiences, and perspectives around international adoption. I know I have been judged for what I believe and support. I don’t necessarily like being judged; the word itself carries such a heavy weight. And yet, I also recognize that I judge others at times. It’s a part of being human. We all do it.

I cannot control what others think or say, but I can reflect on and take responsibility for my own thoughts, words, and actions.

I have moved through a wide range of emotions connected to my adoption and my identity as an international adoptee: from curiosity and awe, to anger and self-rejection, to grief, loss, and depression, and eventually toward acceptance. Like many adoptees, ignorance is one of the things that affects me most deeply. There is still so much misunderstanding surrounding international and transracial adoption, and people can say incredibly uninformed and hurtful things.

Sometimes I can laugh it off. Other times, I feel the anger rise and need to process it with a trusted friend or another adoptee who understands. There is something deeply healing and validating about sharing our stories and realizing we are not alone in these experiences.

And what about birth mothers? Of all those within the adoption constellation, their voices and stories are often the least heard. Yet I believe many have also experienced trauma, separation, grief, loss, and judgment.

Throughout history and across the world, there have been many cases where women were pressured or coerced into relinquishing their children, including in countries such as Australia and Brazil. In some instances, those children were later adopted by families or individuals from other countries.

Societal attitudes have often placed intense judgment and stigma on unwed or single pregnant women, leaving many with limited support, resources, and choices. Their experiences are an important part of the larger adoption conversation and deserve to be heard with compassion and honesty.

What do we make of all of this? I understand that I will be judged for what I say and do. That is part of life, and I can accept it, even when it feels painful.

There are many adoptees and others within the adoption community who hold strong voices and deeply held opinions about how things should be. What I cannot accept is bullying from those who believe everyone must share the same perspective or take the same stance.

Adoptees do not all share the same point of view. Likewise, adoptees, adoptive parents, and birth mothers each carry vastly different lived experiences. What is visible on the outside is not always reflective of what is held within.

I recognize that we may not always agree, but we can still strive to respect one another and honor our own personal, and often unmatched, journeys. We can also find ways to inform and listen to those who have not walked in our shoes. I speak here as one adoptee to another.

I hope to support you wherever you are in life and wherever your journey may lead. I believe that, collectively, we can create meaningful change. We can use our voices and lived experiences to help illuminate the path forward in adoption, especially those of us who have walked through this deeply complex and often painful process.