It’s been a while, so I guess the first thing I should do is update the identity timeline. Once again, I find myself laughing and crying at how many times I’ve had to adjust my personal history. This year, I took the leap and sent in a sample to FamilyTreeDNA. I figured at best, I would find a match that might lead me to my birth family. At the very least, my DNA might tell me whether I was of mixed race or not thus finally, irrefutably revealing which of my adoptive father’s “truths” were true.
But before I continue, let me see if I can break this down:
- Orphan (Vietnamese) – both parents dead
- Possibly not a true orphan (but still Vietnamese) – parents’ deaths never verified
- Biological daughter of adoptive father (Vietnamese-Amerasian) – allegedly adopted to hide that I was his bio daughter
- Daughter of a prostitute (possibly Vietnamese-Amerasian) – supposedly adoptive father was approached by a prostitute who claimed he was the father
- Possible Orphan again (genetic origin unknown) – found in orphanage and purchased for approximately “$1000 dollars in bribes”
Anyone who’s even remotely familiar with my story will know the many times I’ve questioned the accuracy of my personal history and had to change major details. Each time I pulled out the shovel and uncovered a little more, the story changed. With each edit, I felt I had to let a part of myself (and the attached perspective) die so that the more recent incarnation could take its place. During the latter half of my identity adventure, the changes happened so quickly, I felt like a T-1000 in its final death throws. On top of everything, there were more immediate matters to attend. Exhausted to the core, I felt I had to step away or risk a serious meltdown.
Fast forward a couple of years or so.
I heard about Operation Reunite and the efforts of Trista Goldberg to assist Vietnamese adoptees in finding their birth families using DNA tests. I had fought and faltered my way to a half-decent place in my life. While still hectic, the element of chaos had lessened enough to allow me time to breath and reflect. Why not dig a little deeper into the mystery? A couple of cheek scrapings and a trip to the post office didn’t require a lot of effort. All I had to do was sit back and wait for the results.
I tried to put the test out of my mind, all the while, fighting off those old fantasies of finding my birth family. Uninvited, they would push themselves into my consciousness while I ate, in the middle of work and into my dreams as I slept. I was determined that I would not be crushed again and so, tried to keep my expectations extremely low. But who was I kidding? I needed this test to be the key to my lost origins. Time to shift into survival mode. Using my adoptee superpowers, I turned off the psycho/emotional switch.
After a couple of weeks, I came home from work to find an email stating that my results had been posted:
Matches – 1 remote cousin match
Population finder – 83.95% Lahu; 15.56% Han; a margin of error that roughly equals plus or minus 30-something percent.
Initial response: WTF? Does not compute.
I’m still researching and trying to digest what those results could mean. I sent an email to my remote cousin match in hopes discovering another clue. I know it’s a long shot, but when it’s all you have, anything can turn into something. As of yet, I have received no reply. The test did verify that my adoptive father was not my biological father. It also told me that I was not Amerasian.
Still the question remains: Then what am I?
And the search continues…
Dear Sumeia, I’m up late with the flu bug but saw you ahd posted and had to read. I have been following your blog for a while. I have very sympathetic feelings for you & your struggle. You were born into a world, less than ideal. More ‘less than ideal’ than most.
I applaud you for discussing your struggles openly, that in itself is more than half the battle (I’ve discovered when dealing with very deep pain, especially the kind typically associated with shame & embarassment).
It is great you have found a piece of your identity w/ DNA sampling. Just knowing the bio mix of your DNA gives you something solid (plus / minus 30%) to focus around. And hopefully your cousin will respond. How awesome would that be! To know at least one of your blood kin, possibly in this country. That has got to make you feel at least a little less alone in this world.
And I’m very glad the test eliminated at least a couple possibilities off the table re: your father.
As you are searching for answers to your many questions you need to figure out ‘who you are’, where it counts, on the inside, and I don’t mean physically. I feel you are trying to do that. Unless you figure that out, at the end of your search you are just going to be lost WITH answers as opposed to lost WITHOUT answers.
You are at times antagnostic toward your parents (I’m talking about the people who adopted and raised you). Antagonism that varies from mild to aggravated. I understand why. They did things that weren’t ideal, maybe weren’t right as they raised you. Maybe they weren’t as open, loving, warm, giving as they should have been. Maybe they were. It’s not really the point.
I was severely abused as a child, along with my brother (who took his own life 10 yrs ago). Abused in every sense of the word (except sexual, thank God!).
But I still love my parents, forgive them and I RESPECT them (I’m not yelling with the caps, just think of it as a bold font).
No matter what my parents did, I am eternally grateful to them because they did one incredible, amazing thing for me I could never have done for myself. They brought me into this world and gave me life.
Whatever your parents did (both your natural & adoptive parents) they both did an amazing thing for you, they brought you into this world and gave you life. Yes even your adoptive parents. For whatever reason, you had no home and there was no one who wanted or was able to take you in. They did, and because of that you are here today.
If I wanted to I could climb into a bubble with you and look at them and one particular moment and tell you how wrong they were, that they shouldn’t have done that and comfort you for the pain you are in. But I’d rather encourage you to look broader & wider rather than narrower & smaller. In the biggest, broadest possible sense you have an overwhelming abundance to be thankful for. They love you. And my parents loved me. I know they did.
One of the reasons I was finally able to truly forgive them was the realization they were just like me, or vice versa. We so easily forgive ourselves but become so angry and unforgiving at others who hurt us. What I mean is I realized they are human, fallable, slefish at times, scared, shaped by their own experiences which were often not so good themselves. As an adult I finally came to the realization my parents were just ignorant about somethings. They weren’t all-knowing, all-seeing, all-understanding creatures I expected and thought them to be as a boy. They were far from it. But maybe what they did actually was THEIR best. Who am I to say it wasn’t?
Now I see them and have only compassion & love for them. Often you speak of being ‘strong’. You are a ‘survivor’. But what you are strong about and surviving is still a reaction to what ‘they did to you’. Ultimately you have the power inside you to be. To be strong from the inside out. You have the most powerful thing inside you, the power of choice. You have the power to chose how you will feel toward others, You have the power to chose what perspective you will see others with and the world. You have the power to chose what you do with the rest of your life. You are in a unique position, there is no one else in the universe quite like you. With your experience, position and talent you can do much good. But a heart filled with bitterness (perhaps that is too strong a word but something approaching it) toward others will cancel out all the opportunity and hope you have. Don’t feed that part of you, starve it and let it die. Always feed your love, compassion & sympathy. Especially toward those least deserving of it, or else what is it good for?
All my best, with Christian love,
Allen Troup
re: Allen Troup – I usually do not comment on blogs but I could not leave this one alone. This has got to be one of the most patronizing, rude and insensitive comments someone could make on a blog of this nature.
The person also makes a great deal of stereotyped assumptions. For example “you had no home and there was no one who wanted or was able to take you in”. How do you know this? Many so called orphans are actually stolen. Maybe she had a distant relative or family friend who could have offered a home. Also the idea that her life is automatically *better* regardless than someone who stayed in their country of origin. What makes it better? You seem to believe that the culture from which she originated is somehow inherently inferior to the one into which she was adopted. The justifications you use are similar to those used for justifying the transatlantic slave trad.
That said, I completely agree that there is great power in forgiveness & that it is necessary for healing. However, Mr Troup seems to be quite misinformed as to why you should offer it.
All children come from a home that has its own language, cultural traditions, family history, life triumphs and tragedies stories.
She comes from a home.
What you said is sick considering she is trying to find out more about the home from which she originated…both biologically and its place in Vietnam and Vietnam’s history of people living there.
She is trying to find out who she is.
She is trying to find the family members who share her blood and she’s been trying to find out the truth about how she came to this world, from whom, where, and how she got to where she is now.
All children deserve the truth from the parents who brought them into the world and in the case of adoptees, the parents who raised them.
Your comment disregards her right to the truth about who she is and where she came from.
It devalues her humanity to tell her she doesn’t have the right to the human experiences and feelings she is experiencing right now as a result of adoption.
I realize this is an old thread, but I would just like to observe that the type of comment Allen made seems to be something I get every so often from other well-meaning, generally intelligent people in my life. I am a Vietnamese adoptee myself, and I think non-adoptees, in general, just don’t understand the emotional repercussions of being surrendered by one’s birthparents. It’s an experience that creates a very specific psychological profile with its an own set of predispositions. I have been in therapy for years, and my personal observation is that the sense of loss that adoptees feel is not something that responds much to cognitive approaches. It’s something that often somaticizes deep within the body and the subconscious, which is why I think things like yoga and meditation seem to be more effective.
I also think non-adoptees often take for granted that they have not themselves been unwillingly torn from their birthfamilies and birth cultures, and thus, can’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose a connection to these things, things which people derive much of their sense of identity from. I actually think, of all the non-adoptees I’ve spoken to, it is women who have bore children that seem to have the most instinctual understanding of the adoptee’s perspective. The idea of being separated from their child(ren) seems unfathomably horrific, so the parallel idea that all adoptees might suffer from a form of long-term trauma isn’t completely ludicrous to them.
Of course, I’m generalizing based on my own experience, but that does also encompass a lot of reading about the subject. I guess, since the attitude that Allen assumed seems to be a common one, I feel a personal compulsion to really know how to back up my own perspective with facts and figures. I feel like it’s generally too easy for non-adoptees to label us as ingrates and whiners. I feel like we lack a compelling rhetorical defense against such labels, particularly since we live in a culture that doesn’t really talk about this issue very much, and people still tend to take on these precious attitudes about how adoption is a celebratory event, even when most of their knowledge is not based on first-hand experience.
I think Allen’s comment is emotionally unintelligent, in the sense that although I can see he was earnestly trying to empower Sumeia, he misconstrues what the actual perspective of an adoptee really is and comes off as mostly trying to convince himself. But I think, ultimately, I’m also frustrated with just getting either angry or tongue-tied in these type of conversations. I really wish there was a way to explain to people what it’s like. It’s really a spiritual struggle, but it’s hard to get people to take you seriously sometimes by evoking something that abstract. [Sumeia, sorry if I have been presumptuous about your take on Allen's comment. I guess you might have found it helpful.]
Thank you, Michael, for your comment. It was well written, and I couldn’t agree with you more. Allen’s opinion is a common one. He meant well, but his comments illustrate his ignorance (as they have in his previous comments). I’ve come across it more often than I care to admit. To be honest, I’ve grown tired of debating with people who refuse to give up their illusion that adoption is a happy ending for everyone. Plus, I have been involved in my own search for the last couple of years and have been too pre-occupied to pay much attention to the blog.
Like you, I have delved into psychology (among other things), in order to try and understand and be able to convey my opinions beyond an instinctive response. Finding ways to connect with non-adoptees and adoptive parents, in order to help them understand, was a small part of my early motivation for writing about my experiences. I wanted to connect and share with other adoptees, but looking back, I see it really all revolved around me attempting to understand myself and my own experiences from all angles.
What I have discovered so far has been a mind-bending, soul-sapping emotional/psychological gauntlet that I’m still trying to navigate. So no, you were NOT presumptuous, and I deeply appreciate your comment.
All my best to you, Sume