Who is "Amanda"?

I finally decided upon what name to associate with this adoption journal: Amanda M.

Since I have some time, I thought I would take a moment to explain why I choose that name.

During a conversation with my birthfather a few months back, he randomly told me that, were he to have named me, he would have named me "Amanda". It was one of those comments that he probably thought nothing about, but meant a lot to me. While I don't plan on changing my legal name to "Amanda", I wanted to have some representation of the identity I could have had and thought what better way to do that than to use the name on my adoption blog. The "M", of course, stands for his last name. I've thought, on more than one occasion, about changing my surname to reflect his and to also better reflect my heritage, but I'm still not sure if I want to do that or not. I've known of some adoptees who do end up changing their first or last name (or both) in honor of their birth families, but I just haven't decided what is right for me yet.

In the meantime, I thought using the name in association to this blog would be a good starting point, while also helping to keep up the air of anonymity to anyone who I may know in real life who stumbles upon this blog. It's a way for me to reclaim part of my identity that was lost when I was adopted and I'm so glad that he shared it with me.

The Unwanted Child.

I just heard, yet again, how not all people who take in an "unwanted child" are bad people. Now, I have a question for everyone: If an "oops" child is brought into the world, what are the chances of anyone saying to them, "Well, your parents didn't really want you, but they got you and you should be grateful for them for keeping you." Unless that child was around really fucked up people, probably no one's ever said that to them.

So then why is it okay to tell adopted children that, well yeah, some adoptive parents are shitty, but most of them just want to give a home to a child that was otherwise unwanted? How did you suddenly become the all-knowing medium about why any child is given up for adoption? What about children conceived in poverty? Or children conceived by parents who were minors at the time (thus giving the child's grandparents legal authority over whether they are to be placed in foster care or not.

When did telling a child they were "unwanted" become acceptable in our society? Has anyone stopped to think about how incredibly fucked up that could make a child? Why can't we tell them that adoptive parents are, theoretically, more "well-equipped" or "capable" of raising a child? Can't we respect the child, the birthparents, AND the adoptive parents all at the same time? Why must people feel the need to shit all over the birthparents in order to convince the adopted child that adoptive parents should be commended?

I read somewhere once about how adoptive parents should want the best for their adoptive child. That they need to be able to accept, in the perfect world they wished their child could have been born into, that they would have never been their parent if something hadn't gone wrong. And "gone wrong" shouldn't just automatically mean "no one else wanted you."


ETA: Here is something that I just found from a fellow adoptee friend of mine:

It's food for thought, yes?

On Attachment.

Growing up, my adoptive parents would tell me I had "attachment issues". I didn't attach the way most kid were supposed to attach. Over the years, I've become more and more confident to say that they were full of shit. It's not attachment that I have a problem with; it's abuse. I don't tolerate systematic abuse from anyone. Ever. Those that are abusive try to turn that around on me as being "unattached".

Don't get me wrong, I don't attach to people easily. I have a labyrinth of walls up that people unknowingly must weave through before I fully trust them. I analyze their boundaries, interactions, and management of the world around them. However, once I become attached, it's forever.

That sounds a little ominous, so let me explain. I rarely tell people "I love you" because, to me, that's not something you should throw around lightly. To me, "I love you" means "this is unconditional. Nothing I could imagine you doing will ever make me not love you. You will never be a burden. Even if we were to never talk again, I would always hope you were okay. I'd always be here if you needed me."

That's a lot of power behind three words, which is why I don't say them lightly. But my ability to have such strong feelings towards not only those three words, but towards the people I say them to, shows that I'm not only capable of attachment but the attachments that I make are life-long. I've learned to be wary of anyone who tries to tell me differently.

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