Adopted Black Girl

I can completely understand why you chose to not advocate for yourself when the adults in your life shut you down every time you tried.

I completely understand why you hesitate to ask for what you need and fear retaliation when you speak up about what’s wrong.

I completely understand the fear behind your eyes when you think of your present and past memories.

I completely understand why you found a home in your silence.

And I completely understand why you needed to hear someone validate your humanness to feel okay again.

This blog is dedicated to you. 

To all the questions you asked and were told by your adoptive guardian that the answer “wasn’t important”.

That answer could have protected you. That knowledge could have saved you.

To all the nights you thought about the life you could’ve had or should’ve had. 

To all the people who had no idea about your story and figured your household was perfect. 

To the guilt you felt and the shame you took on. 

To the adoption experience that left you more emotionally harmed than physically.

To the adoption experience that grew hate in your hurt.

To the adoption experience that’s never really spoken out loud.

It’s a wild ride to not fully understand your childhood but always feel like something was off.

But what a joy…

What a joy it is to see you grow and evolve.

What a joy it is to see you smile and speak with confidence. 

What a joy it is to see you find community and understanding. 

No one can quite tell your story like you. In fact, you may have many stories because you have navigated many parts of your life.

A brave, intellectual, beautiful, Black, loving, spiritual, calming woman you have become or are becoming.

I am in awe of you and so I get it.

When’s the last time someone wrote a love letter to you?

For you? To see you? To validate you? 

Sometimes we feel forgotten and I am here to tell you, you will never be forgotten. 

Here’s my love letter to you.

From a coffee shop with intention, 

Teisha