OK, so it happened. I have begun a new blog. I’d been thinking about this for a couple of weeks, now, and I’ve decided to move on from Annyeong Seumnida. Although I’ve been considering just changing the way it’s run, I think it’s probably better just to start afresh. Blogging about adoption has been a great outlet for me, but there’s just so much more to my life than adoption, and I want a place online that’s a better representation of that.
Although I’ve made the posts on here private, I will be keeping it open for a while. But for those that are interested in following me around the interwebs, please feel free to contact me at my new home: My new blog will (hopefully) be a lot happier and will be more about my life (the life of an adoptee) in general. I’d also like to go back to blogging about Korean and stuff.
Annyeong Seumnida has been a great place of therapy for me. And I’m happy to have met some wonderful people along the way. But I’m not really sad or anything, as I’m not dead, nor am I stopping blogging. It’s just a change that’s needed. 
By looking at this post, one would think it’s happy and cheerful and oh-your-life-is-so-wonderful! Because funnily enough, people think they know enough based on first impressions and what’s clearly visible.
Like I have said MANY, MANY times on here, I’ve had a pretty good life. And on the outside, it probably looks better than what I’ve thought it is. One problem with blogging is that it can be difficult to actually gain an understanding of the writer’s views on whatever it is they’re blogging about, unless you’ve been reading it for a while. People visit blogs, read a few of the most recent posts, then think they know all they need to know. I’m sure we’re all guilty of having done this.
I have never once said that my life has been terrible. Nor have I said I hate my life. (At least… not on this blog.) Likewise, I have never said that I’m against adoption. I mean, I have a pretty fortunate life. Why would I be against it?? That doesn’t really make a lot of sense, even in my illogical mind. Believe it or not, I do not go around all day, everyday moping about being adopted. I rarely talk about it to people I don’t know well. To them, I’m sure everything seems peachy. I have regular food, comfort and care from those that I care about. I try to spend my time with the people I truly care about (with some unavoidable exceptions), and I’m currently working a career that will (hopefully) get me as far as I’m happy with.
That being said, this blog is not here to forever talk about the wonderfulness of my life. I live it day to day. The people that I truly care about are the ones that see the fruition of my 27 years, and that’s what counts to me. I cherish the good times that I have with the people that I actually care about; the ones that I see, physically and spend genuine time with. They’re the ones that I want the good times to be with. I don’t want to waste the time with them over things that aren’t very happy, or the things that make me unhappy. Because, well… what would be the point?
But I was (obviously) adopted. And whether or not I’m wholly for or against it (which I’m neither), I have been pondering its issues, possibilities, positives and negatives for 27 years, now. I know what the positives are. DUH. Not only have I been fortunate enough to experience them, that is what people in the western world like to think/believe about adoption: that it’s this wonderful thing that “saves” lives and gives families to those that, otherwise, can’t have them. As an adoptee, that has been drilled into me from the general attitude of those around me. And of course, they often love to trump any argument against that attitude with things like: “but children need loving families. It’s better than leaving them to rot in orphanages”.
I get that people may not want to have their pretty ideals confronted and challenged. And fine. But I don’t care. This blog is not here for them. It is here for me. Selfish? I don’t care. I’m not writing this thing for others. It is a place of venting. It is my place to talk about issues that don’t have much of a place in the life shown in all these pictures.
Despite the advantages to adoption, there are disadvantages, too. And frustrations. And things that I read that make me angry. Why do I care? I don’t know. I wish I didn’t. I wish I could be indifferent. Adoption isn’t a perfect solution. Yet people think it is. People seem to (generally) assume that in getting a child, that’s it. Yet there’s so much more to it than that. No matter how many times I get told that the “basic human need” of a loving family is what’s most important for “orphaned” babies and children, I cannot ignore that which goes unseen and that which so many seem to be happy ignoring. Yes, it’s so much easier to bask in the obvious and to believe in everything that can be seen with two human eyes. But I believe, feel and know that adoption brings with it so much more.
Does this mean that I’m against adoption? Of course not! But it also doesn’t mean that I agree with the general population’s view that adoption is a way of “solving” the absence of all a child’s basic needs. Throughout my life I have gone through ups and downs (like many people have). And I have gone through phases of depression and feeling like life really wasn’t worth much. Throughout these times, I was extremely frustrated because no one could see what was going on in my head.
I used to describe it as though I were walking through a fog; a fog so thick, I couldn’t navigate my way through. But people still didn’t understand because they had no idea what I was talking about. I could have been speaking in another language! But it was frustrating, nonetheless, to know that I was sinking into a hole that no one else could see.
This blog exists as a representation of what is in my head in regards to adoption. Or at least, it has been. I’m considering making it more of a representation of my life in general, thus including more of my daily experiences. But until now, I have had many a heated argument over adoption views, and I’m getting a little tired of it, hence the blog changes. But adoption issues exist, whether people want to accept that or not. I was told earlier that I should simply try and live the life I’ve got now (as though it’s second rate to what my life in Korea would have been? OK…). Which is what I’m doing partially by utilising this blog. I don’t want to wander around all day with emotions and frustrations bottled up inside me.
And so I find that blogging is a good way to get out some of those thoughts and feelings. So yes, that might mean opening myself up to further discussion on difficult topics. And fine. Of those, I have had many. But if you come to my blog, you are coming to a place that is here for me. It has been in existence of over a year, now, and most of my views and thoughts of adoption are here. Do not assume that you know everything from a mere one, two or three recent posts. If you have the audacity to come and argue with me (yes, there’s a difference between arguing and discussing), then do so with knowledge of other things I have said here. Do not base whatever opinion you have on me solely on what you can see immediately. Because believe it or not, beneath the obvious, there lies a lot more. And this goes for adoption in general, not just me.
Protected: My Characters’ Faces: A Writing Update
This may be one of my last public posts for a while. At the risk of sounding ridiculously over-dramatic, I believe I am still linked on this , regardless of my post asking to please be removed from it, or to be given access to it. Although protecting many posts would probably be hypocritical and going against the ideal that adoption information and insights should be shared amongst many people involved with adoption, I am somewhat annoyed to be excluded from a blog when it’s clearly obvious that I’m being spoken about. I don’t appreciate it, I think it’s rude and it’s also disrespectful. If these people have access to my experiences and thoughts, I feel it’s only fair to be given access to their blog, or at least have contact details of them. It’s not always easy to confront adoption issues and feelings, nor is it easy to make them available to complete strangers. So I won’t be making the entirety of this blog protected, but I will probably make a lot more posts protected, at least for a while. For those that are human enough to treat me as such, please don’t hesitate to contact me for said password. And I thank those that do treat me as anything but an information machine and for talking about and sharing your adoption journeys and stories with me. I think that’s what families should be about. At least partially.
*****
Anyway, today I read about quite a large adopted family, and the adoptees’ experiences in going back to Korea. In it, they mention the idea that we adoptees don’t really fit in anywhere. We don’t really fit in with our Caucasian societies, but it can be even worse when we merely attempt to assimilate with those of our natural heritage:
“She’s just a white girl; a banana; she doesn’t really get it; Maree is brainwashed and really not like us,” were some of the things her Asian peers used to describe her, Maree said.
I – along with many other adoptees, I’m sure – can totally relate to this sentiment. And I’ve written about it in here quite often. I think it is possibly one of the worst things about being adopted: not *really* belonging anywhere. Sure, we “belong” with the people that love us etc, but really, that only goes for when we’re inside our comfortable homes. Once we step out our front doors, it’s a completely different story. People don’t know us, so we just automatically “belong” in whatever groups we look like. And that goes for everyone, adopted or not. What’s different from adoptees is that we don’t truly belong in the groups we look like. Nor is belonging in those groups something we can “just” learn. I cannot walk into a Korean person’s home, automatically begin speaking the language and “doing” the “normal” Korean customs and ways. I’m not going to lie: I hate coming up against Korean people. I hate the feeling I get when they speak to me in Korean, expect me to speak back, then get completely perplexed when I don’t. I hate the looks I get, and I hate the obvious assumptions that are so loud in my ears without them saying a word at all. Truly, I hate it.
Equally, I hate it when people that aren’t Korean make the same assumptions of me, only… backwards. I hate it when they ask me if I speak Korean. I hate it when they look at me when I speak in perfect, unbroken English. And I hate it when they say racist things in front of me without even knowing it.
Hate. Yes, it’s a strong word, but there you go. Sometimes I hate being adopted for these things. For not belonging to any one group.
‘Who cares?’ you think. ‘Just be yourself’ you think. HA. You try “being yourself” when “yourself” isn’t up to par with everyone’s standards. I don’t hate myself, but I wouldn’t say I’m perfectly happy with myself, either. Sometimes it’s like constantly wearing clothes that just don’t fit you. Are you going to walk around in clothes that are overly tight, loose or just plain uncomfortable? No. But luckily for you, clothes can be stripped off to be changed for others. Your skin and outside appearance can’t. Not without a lot of pain, anyway.
Quite frankly, this not-belonging thing is tiring and lonesome. (And I wonder why I’m such a homebody? *Scoff*) I honestly just tire of it. And I wish I could “just” be like everyone else, at times.
So… where do adoptees belong?
You know what I wish sometimes? Sometimes I think to myself: ‘how wonderful would it be: for all the interracial adoptees in the world to come together, go find some uninhabited island and populate it: create our very own race of people that look like something, but are completely different on the outside’. As unrealistic as that is, it’s a crazy fantasy, but it would be great. And truthfully, I think adoptees – in some sense – belong with other adoptees. I mean, what makes people of one race “belong” at all? Isn’t it because they share a set of experiences, outside appearances and cultural understandings? Yes, yes and yes, I’d say. Who shares adoptees’ unique experiences in life: other adoptees, right? Really, it comes down to this sharing thing. For me, Korean people can’t really relate past my external appearance. Sure, I have the “squinty”, Asian eyes; the dark hair; the short stature; the pale-ish skin… but underneath, what do I have? I have understandings of A, B, C; eating with knives and forks; surviving on pasta, steak and BBQs; and the list goes on… I don’t wholly share anything with anyone… except for other adoptees.
Following my recent post on siblings, wouldn’t it, therefore, make sense to adopt more than one child? And if you’re not doing as such, at least have a lot to do with other adopted families? I mean, think about your own life: you live your culture day by day: it’s something you don’t think about as you drive to work everyday, talk to your colleagues everyday and go shopping. Why should anything be different for adoptees? Why should we be reminded of our adoptions all the time? Why shouldn’t we have the luxury of just… not having to think about it and be reminded of our differences everyday? Why shouldn’t we have lots of people around us who have just inherently shared our experiences of the world and our lives?
Food for thought? Maybe… for newly adoptive parents. But where does that leave us “old” adoptees? To just go mad over our inherent isolation? Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just quit my job, go live in the sticks and write in an emo corner for the rest of my life. 
Sounds pretty good to me. =P
I considered starting a whole new blog for this, but I don’t really want to. So I’m going to sort of incoporate a bit of a writing blog here, where I’ll blog about this process of writing a novel/memoir. Updates won’t be too regular, and many of them will probably be password-protected because I think writing opens up a lot of personal stuff that I don’t really want to display to the world. The password will probably also be different to the password used for my usual protected posts, so if you’d like to read about my processes of writing an adoption book/memoir/novel, please contact me for the password. I may also post the occasional excerpt, which I definitely don’t want open to the public.
As this post is (obviously) public, I’m just going to say right now that I have 6000 words and for once, I’m pretty happy with those rough 6000 words, and have no intention of starting all over again. Again. So yay! I’ve been writing a bit a day (I only wish I had more time to do so!). And a random thing about me: I write really well in cafes. I get a lot done in cafes. Dunno what it is about cafes, but they’re just very writerly places for me.
It sucks that making a career as a novelist is rather difficult. But I wish I could. It would be the best thing ever.