When I was little I was like every other kid in the world.
When I was in middle school I didn’t mind it because I thought it made me special.
But when high school came… everything I knew changed.
The high school that I went to made you dig deep inside and throw your deepest feelings on paper for the whole world to know.
That’s when my view of being adopted changed.
People started noticing that I didn’t look like my family and they questioned that.
I would tell them “oh I am adopted.” Their response, “I am sorry, what happened?” They made it seem like who I was, was a bad thing. Now when I go to family parties I look around the room every time. And I realize their all blood related. They all have some feature that resembles each other. But me. I am different. With my dark black hair, my dark brown eyes, and my button nose… I look like none of them.
And some times I even question. If they had biological children would they be treated differently? Would my adoptive parents love them more then they love me?
And I think, what about MY biological parents…
Could they not afford me? Were there too many children and they didn’t have time to take care of me? Why was I thrown into an orphanage and left for strangers.
I have two other brothers. They are Asian. Like me. Everyone says how we look so alike. The reality of it all is that none of use are blood related. We all have different moms. Different dads. And even different siblings.
Then I find out I have a biological brother that’s one year older then me in the United States. He’s only a few states away from the one I live in. But… his family doesn’t want us to meet? And it hurts because then questions arise like did they know about me and not want me? Or was I just too much trouble at the time.
Some many questions. So many feelings I have to hide.
Being adopted might be cool.

But it hurts.