One of the deep, embedded emotions I have experienced my entire life is that I don't belong. That was a difficult feeling to have growing up and throughout my school days, particularly for an extroverted girl. I was a fun-loving, thrill-seeking people-pleaser. I was one of those kids who showed empathy toward others easily and wanted to be liked. I was not the original and creative one who did not care what others thought, though I admired those girls and wanted to be their friend. Finding my "tribe" in middle and high school was an ever-evolving experience. In the end, I found myself with connections from all walks of life: the musicians, the "jocks," the brainiacs, the "heads," and the in-betweens. I was like a nomad, seeking an oasis without realizing my search had its roots in my adoption--a part of my story that went unacknowledged for years. I found out I was adopted at age eight and didn't tell a soul until I was 16, in fear of being ostracized. You will read more about my story in Tracks One and Eleven later in this book.
As the years went by and I became more comfortable talking about the fact that I was adopted, I found myself intrigued by the different narratives other people had around the concept of adoption. Some had very descriptive stories they clearly delighted in sharing; others were nonchalant or indifferent. Their stories were beautiful, heart-rending, uplifting, and challenging. I recently came across a memoir by Anne Heffron titled You Don't Look Adopted, which immediately brought to mind the many times I heard that from countless people throughout my life. What does it look like to be adopted, anyway? Anne Heffron tells her story of discovery. Like me, she was raised by loving parents with many opportunities available for her success. Ultimately, the DNA of her biological roots was not within her control, and that drove the choices she later shared in her powerful narrative.
The genesis of Adoption Songs in 2019, prior to my enlightenment to adoption trauma, was an angel whisper delivered by a chance encounter with a neighbor/acquaintance and her family at the Montgomery Country Club, where my family belonged, at dinner. I didn't know Cherin well, but I really admired her. A STEM talent with three beautiful sons and a loving husband, she and her family were adorable, and as we started to chit-chat, the topic of adoption came up. I am always excited to learn that someone is also adopted. It's an unspoken club; we know that we instantly relate to one another in a way no one else can. Cherin began to tell me her story, and I was blown away. It hit me like the proverbial wrecking ball, and I had an epiphany right in that moment that these adoption stories needed to be told! I asked her if she would be willing to talk to me and let me capture her compelling story. She agreed, and the idea of Adoption Songs came to life. Cherin was my first interview of 15. You can read about her story in Track Two, "I Won't Give Up."
One discovery that is so obvious to me now, but was a watershed moment a few months ago, was the fact that many adoptees struggle with a sense of belonging. Well, no kidding! It absolutely had not dawned on me until very recently that that was the reason I often felt alone or like I did not fit in. I have had a full life of opportunity, whether it was leading in school activities, seeking career advancement, entertaining friends and family, developing close relationships with neighbors, engaging in school parenting activities (field trip mom!), or discovering DNA family. But despite all of that, there has always been this gnawing sensation that I just did not fit anywhere. I began to wonder if that was why I threw myself into so many activities and involved myself in so much; I was seeking to fill that hole and find the spot where I felt I fit. And it turns out, this is a common sentiment among the adopted population. How those manifests and is subsequently managed varies widely across adoptees.