When I was seven years old, my mother told me I was adopted. My momma said,” Mijo te que tengo que hablar de algo muy importante.” Then, she started crying which worried me. I said “Mom what’s going on?” She said, “Mijo por favor sientate.” I said, “Okay que pasa.” She then said, “Mijo, I’m not your biological mother.” I said stuttering, “what what? I suddenly yelled, “what do you mean!?” She wept her tears off of her cheek. I adopted you when you were one, she said.

At first, I didn’t believe it. I went to my room. Then, I sat down and started thinking that my whole life was a lie. I’ve always thought that I was Mexican, but I wasn’t. My whole culture was Mexican. I ate Mexican food and also most of my community was Mexican. My whole family was Mexican and all my friends also. Then, I suddenly started crying. I ended up falling asleep in the ground with my eyes pouring tears. I woke up three hours later and still kept thinking about what my mother told me. Then, I realized that I actually  was adopted because I look very different from my parents and siblings. I have an Asian face and my eyes are more slanted than my parents and siblings. Also, my skin tone is lighter than theirs. Last, my nose is smaller than everyone one else’s. No wonder people always asked my mom if I was  Filipino.

The next day, I went to school. I was still sad. My friends noticed I was sad. One said, “What’s wrong?” I looked away and said, “nothing.” Two other friends came up to me and said, “Are you okay?” “Yes.” I said. But I wasn’t fine. I just wanted to be alone. The day passed on, and it was a Friday. I went home and went straight to bed a slept for a few hours. Then, I stayed the whole day in my bed sad watching funny videos to make me happy. My friends called me and asked if wanted to go to the park because it was Friday. I said “No.” That's how sad I was because of this situation.  A few months passed, and I realized I shouldn’t be very sad.

My non-biological parents are my parents no matter what. They have raised me for my whole life, and I love them as if they were my biological parents.

Years later, I still don’t know who my biological parents are. All I know is that they are from the Phillipines. I kind of don’t want to know who they are because they put me up adoption probably because they couldn’t take care of me. And that is how I found out that I was adopted. If my biological parents hadn’t put me for adoption, I would have been raised in the Philippines. I wouldn’t have as many opportunities as I have here in the U.S.