During an adoptee’s life, we go through so many different feelings, so many different emotions and so many different identities. We long to have a true identity. For some it will come with time, and other’s simply never actually find themselves.
When I was much younger, I wrote poetry about my adoption all the time. It was an almost daily release for me. Of course I wrote about other things too, but I was definitely obsessed with who I was. I can happily say, I’ve found myself and I love who I am.
However, when this poem was written I had no idea who I was. I was tired of not being like anyone else in my family and feeling so out of it all the time.
No matter how much my parents reassured me that they loved me, no matter how much they did for me or what they did to try to boost my self esteem, it didn’t help. There were too many unanswered questions, and there was too much damage done. It wasn’t damage that anyone in particular caused, just the damage that adoption can cause. I say the word “can” because in the right situation, the damage is reversible, or doesn’t exist at all.
I wrote this poem as a teenager. I can even remember when I wrote it. I was babysitting some children that I watched every weekend. I had just finished reading them “Green Eggs And Ham” by Dr. Seuss. I was aching to write something, so I sat down and composed this. I think you will see the Dr. Seuss flair and style I gave the piece. Don’t laugh, it was just a quick poem I jotted. But I am thankful I still have it.
And here it is:
“I’m an Adoptee” by Nicole Humphrey
I’m not like him,
I’m not like her.
Where I’m from, I’m just not sure.
My eyes are blue and
theirs are brown,
What makes me smile, makes them frown.
My hair is blond,
and theirs is not,
Their hair is thin, and I have a lot.
I like the dirt,
and they just don’t.
I like to play and they just won’t.
I’m not like dad,
I’m not like mom,
I just don’t see where I came from.
I like to create,
and they like sports.
They like dresses,
but I like shorts.
I like outdoors,
They likes inside,
I like people,
They like to hide.
I like to go out,
and they like to stay in.
I can see clear, that we aren’t kin.
I am different,
I can see.
I am special, I am an adoptee.
Copyright © 1999 Imagination Station
Copyright © 2003 Scribbles N Scraps