Journey Through Adoption, Bullying, and Healing

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I don’t think I was ever told I was adopted. It was just always there. I never really cared, because I had loving parents and that was all that mattered.

I remember one day when I was in Year 4, a friend asked me how much I cost. Over the years, I got more questions like that, and eventually the bullying started. People called me “unwanted” and “unloved,” and I couldn’t stand the way they talked about me, like I was second hand.

Then one day it got physical. A boy in the year above called my mum a failure because she had to adopt instead of having kids the “normal way.” I hit him. For about a year, I kept getting into fights because people knew that if they insulted my family, I’d react.

In Year 8, the bullying stopped. People matured. I matured. I knew I was loved, and I had a family who chose me.

Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t.

I got back in contact with some of my biological siblings and a grandparent. I found out things that hit me hard. I had always known the basics of why I was adopted, but what I learned sent me into a deep depression. I felt disgusted. I felt sick. I started hurting myself and even tried to take my own life, thinking I couldn’t allow myself to live knowing I was related to such monsters.

I went into therapy. Talking and crying helped.

I continued speaking to the “non monster” side of my birth family, and I eventually formed a relationship with them. But every so often, I still struggle with the thought of being the offspring of such awful people. It sends me into a dark place, especially when I see a TV show or film with a storyline that’s painfully close to mine.

I’ve learned that I may never fully feel like I deserve to be on this earth because of my genes and where I come from. But I also know that my parents raised me to be a better person than the ones who brought me into this world. Healing is not a straight line, and I’ve accepted that.