Yes, I Am Adopted – And Yes, They Are My “Real” Family!

I’ve known as long as I can possibly remember that I was adopted. My parents were always extremely open about it. I never knew who my birth parents were as a child, but the adoption thing was announced. I cannot tell you how many times in my life I have been asked about “my real family.” My answer is always the same, “They ARE my real family. Do you mean my biological family?”

I know many are not aware of how that phrase sounds to somebody that has been adopted or somebody that has adopted a child. They mean biological, but when the word “real” is used, it just sounds so terrible to me. My parents are in fact MY parents. My siblings are in fact MY siblings. Same with grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. They are all very REAL to me.

I was adopted at one day old. My mother always wanted to adopt a baby and my father was on board with anything she was passionate about. My brother and sister are 10 and 12 years older than I am. A new baby to them was a new adventure. My grandparents welcomed me with open arms, as did everyone else in the family. I never felt out-of-place growing up.

I always loved talking about it to people too. At that time, I had no idea who my biological family was. The meeting of them will be a whole new blog post on a different day. Everybody I speak to about it always has so many questions. I am completely fine and ok answering them, but the word “real” gets to me. I know it’s curiosity, but I always feel defensive. My weapon is used by answering with my sharp tongue.

“Have you met your real parents?”

Yes, actually they raised me and I have known them 28 years.

“Do you have any real brothers and sisters?”

As opposed to imaginary? I’m pretty sure mine aren’t fake.

I felt like I was an adopted dog from a shelter.

Where was she bred?

What breeds are her parents?

How many in the litter?

If not for my REAL parents, I don’t know where I would be. I am forever grateful to them for giving me the life I had. I am even grateful to them for the life I have now. I don’t know where I would be or what I would have become had they not adopted me. I am also extremely grateful to my biological mother for choosing life. That story though is an entirely different subject, on an entirely different day.

Someday, I hope my fiance and I will be able to adopt a little baby. It won’t be until our children are grown up, but it’s something I would really love to do. It doesn’t matter who carried the baby for 9 months. Your REAL parents are the ones who raise you, give you a shoulder when you cry, nurture you, console you, shelter you, and are always there for you. Your REAL parents are the two people you call “Mom and Dad.”

That’s what the word “real” means to me.

And one last thing, don’t hesitate asking me any questions at all. Just refrain from the word, “real.” 😉

xoxo,

Stacy

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