Adopted Black Girl

There is a difference between being in a safe environment and not knowing how to speak up, and being in an environment where you know you aren’t safe and can’t speak up.

I think that difference is part of what makes the kinship adoptee experience so complicated.

I was talking about this with a friend because it’s Kinship Awareness Month, and there are so many nuances of kinship care that people simply don’t know about. One of these nuances is navigating the courage to be direct and speak up in familial spaces.

There’s this weirdness of going to family functions and knowing the people around you, knowing the family, knowing the history, and still trying to figure out where you fit. You can know everyone and still be trying to find your own voice without feeling like you’re drowning.

Sometimes I think, Wait. I did have the space to talk about those inner thoughts. That question can follow you into adulthood. You start wondering, What is going on with me? Why do I question my own voice? Why is it so hard to say what I actually want when I know exactly what I feel?

That’s one of the reasons I started Adopted Black Girl. It’s not that you don’t know what you want to say or that you don’t know how to say it. Sometimes, you have to give yourself permission to actually say what’s on your mind. To be honest with yourself and say, Yes, I want to say this and be heard.

Being direct, kind, and firm with your boundaries doesn’t make you less loving, difficult, or ungrateful. It means you’re learning who you are.

So many of us are trying to figure out who we are, but we’re looking in the wrong places. We’re looking at the internet, our phones, and everybody else’s stories. We’re looking everywhere except the places where we grew up and asking the questions that are hard to ask.

As kinship care adoptees, some of us have access that other adoptees may not have. We may be able to access family members, stories, places, and information. But having access doesn’t automatically mean you know how to use it. Sometimes access creates even more questions. Should I even talk about adoption? Should I speak up about my experience? Am I allowed to ask this?

Yes.

You should talk about it. You should ask the questions. You should seek the answers. You are allowed to know your own story.

And maybe that’s another thing we need to talk about when we talk about kinship care: sometimes we were safe as children in ways that don’t necessarily mean we felt emotionally safe. Our physical needs may have been met. We may have had a home, family, stability, and love. But physical safety and emotional safety are not always the same thing.

There are a lot of ifs and ands in that. This month, I want to look at those ifs and ands—the complicated parts of kinship care that don’t always fit neatly into a definition.

Because maybe finding your voice isn’t about learning how to speak.

Maybe it’s about finally believing that what you have to say matters.

And if you’re anything like me, you don’t want to live with a voice of silence.

You want to speak. You want to ask. You want to know. You want to understand.

And maybe that’s where we begin.

From my writing corner with love,

Teish