I look around me today and I have no family in sight. I was torn at the roots when I was born in the Philippines in destitute poverty in 1985, orphaned at birth and adopted in 1987.
Dually, my intercountry adoption process had systematically erased my entire heritage and knowledge of my ancestors. While also permanently bonding me to people that had no interest in preserving or keeping in tact my birth nationality and culture.
I don’t know why that had to happen in the adoption process.
Why the past needed to be so efficiently erased as if it never existed.
Why did any of this have to be erased?
The narratives of my grandparents, the narratives of my great grandparents, the voices of all the flesh and blood and bones that made my DNA today.
Why did their stories have to leave me?
Was it because I was brown?
Was it because I was born from the Philippines, which in history has always been a developing, marginalized country with a colonized past?
Was it because I was a vulnerable child who didn’t have a say or rights to my own life at that time? Was it because my memories and my identity didn’t matter?
Did I have to be separated from my own birth country and my own birth country’s mother tongue to be saved by a more privileged family?
And why was the remaining biographical information so unbelievably useless and irrelevant? And why did I have to wait until I was 18 to receive even that information, which parts of it, I later found out from a reunion with my birth mother—was not even true.
Am I complaining because I was orphaned?
Or am I complaining because there were parts of this adoption process that was systemically inhuman including adopting me to a Midwestern Caucasian couple that had shown no interest in preserving my cultural heritage or keeping myself connected to my own birth country’s language. As it shows, even in that adoption documentation, they had no interest in my heritage.
Little did I know—that if I had kept this connection when I was a vulnerable brown child and basically purchased by a privileged white family, I would have been able to return to the Philippines in my adulthood, my birth country, and I would have been able to speak fluently, which would have given me a much easier pathway in reclaiming my citizenship.
Even my birth name, why did my adoptive parents who never met me, suddenly have the right to change my birth name when they adopted/purchased me?
Why kind of rights had been given to them?
What rights were taken away from me in this dual process?
Where did my citizenship in my birth country go when I was adopted?
Why did any of this have to leave me—when I was adopted?
Holidays have always been a bit of a bugger, at least for me. And to make things worse, I’m spending Thanksgiving alone this year but I’m happy to at least have a couple days off this week because of the holiday! I have some new goals I will be occupying my time with too. Like for one, I hope to start taking local photographs of Hawaii. I think this goal is great because it can motivate me three-fold:
My goal would encourage me to learn more about beautiful Hawaii.
It will motivate myself to meet new people.
I can also refresh my portfolio.
Life in Hawaii as a new single has been peaceful but I do have to admit, it can be lonely. It was tougher in the beginning but I’ve actually had some small periods of joy in passing moments these days.
My List of Little Things That Bring Me Temporary Joy (as a Newly Made Single Person in Hawaii)
Listening to Bhutanese pop music on Spotify
Sitting at my Favorite Secret Spot overlooking the ocean
Junk journaling at home with a movie on
Going for jogs next to the highway
Eating pokē at any time of the day
Talking to friends
Checking in with my support groups or creative workshops
Next month will be Christmas.
I’ve been thinking about what it’ll be like visiting my adoptive family in Arizona during that time. It’s been years of estrangement and I haven’t even met a handful of my cousin’s children yet too, so it’s definitely good that I meet them this year.
It will be also nice not being alone, and I hope to also blog in that time.
I’ve also been thinking about my plans in Hawaii. If I should try to move back to the mainland to live and work in a more affordable place. Right now work here keeps me going on Oahu but it’s still fickle. Another idea struck me too: I think it’d be awesome to plan a trip to the Philippines with a few Filipino-American adoptee friends who might want to explore our home country together!
Not much else to write about right now, so I will sign off. Please feel free to find me on Facebook or Instagram if you’d like to get in touch!
I am a 36-year-old Filipino American adoptee and my road to recovering from being orphaned as a baby has never come easy. I didn’t have the resources to return to the Philippines to restore my heritage. I never had the resources to mend the problems I had with my intercountry adoption placement. So, I had to find creative solutions to recover from all of this.
I can’t promise any tips to save anyone from the complications of being adopted or adopting. What I can do is give a few personal solutions that I found in my own adoptee life that helped on my road to recovering from my intercountry adoption journey.
5 Things I Did to Reclaim My Adoptee Life
Creating. I first studied writing and then library and information science. My interests led to making mixed media art and information products that helped me voice my transracial life’s losses and restructure a new sense of identity in innovative ways. I could transform my grief with art and education. For instance, I made a digital archive showing my adoption process and the biological identity that I lost when I was born as an orphan in the Philippines in 1985. You can view my archive here and my Instagram here.
Retreating peacefully. In-between a rock and a hard place, I had to choose what was best for me psychologically and emotionally. I started retreating from the norm in my early twenties. I separated from my adoptive family through geographic and social distancing. I retreated from all of the past relations that failed me in the past and the bad relationships I had. I moved to Hawaii in my thirties, a place I had been mysteriously called to for years. There, I let go. But despite letting go, I never gave up on myself, or the love I have for life, my ideals or the world around me. And to keep myself well in Hawaii, I continued my meditation practices and holistic therapies.
Focusing on Work. There are pathways in Buddhism where one can practice meditation optimally and achieve liberation through intensive work and labor. Work has been the best practice for me. Work caters to my studious personality. It is the best physical, emotional and psychological outlet. I can rebuild a sense of identity in work as well.
Being Involved in Communities. I got involved with supportive communities and support groups. I gravitate towards people that practice meditation, people that are devoted to art or learning, or nonprofit endeavours. I enjoy being a part of supportive networks with people. I ask questions. I volunteer. I like to believe that I restructure the broken bonds of my history by being involved today. Being a part of communities helps me cultivate a sense of belonging. I build a positive foundation around me and support structures.
Taking Care of My Relations Today. Relationships keep me regulated in my daily life. My relations include unconventional ones like taking care of my plants, my cat, work relations and with myself. I’ve started adoptee counselling on a regular basis to cultivate a better relationship that I have with myself and my adoptee world. I am also returning to my adoptive family this Christmas to visit and help heal my relations with them. My relations help me keep well in life today.
Yes, I still feel echoes of my broken bonds affect my life today. I still ache from having been born into destitute poverty in the Philippines so long ago. I still dream of the older Filipino American brother whom I lost in this intercountry adoptee experience. I still carry the void where my biological family’s voices are forever gone. There is no easy answer to recover from these paradoxes.
Despite it all, I do know that I am finding my way day by day. I have been coming out of the fog, and it has been a good thing.
“With all this unpredictable change, it’s more important than ever to manage and conserve your energy because you fuel your entire life with it. You have four sources of energy: physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. When we get triggered emotionally, we lose a lot of energy.” – Alice Inoue, national award-winning author and life expert
These are the words from my job training yesterday morning at the Hawaii Convention Center. Alice Inoue was one of our public speakers in our presentation.
I’d been a newly-employed temporary Adjudicator in the Unemployment Claims sector of the Department of Labor for the State of Hawaii. That day, I was training in the art of communicating with clients especially when they’re emotionally escalated. Little did I know, this training would be coinciding with adult adoptee life as well as the public in this time, as I’ve had to cope with emotional triggers all my life.
Now it seems emotional triggers is something we’re all dealing with on a larger scale. Spanning and intermingling with larger demographics of society.
Emotional Triggers of the Unemployed
Covid-19 is affecting all of our lives in seen and unseen ways. Unemployment to date is persisting with over 100,000 issues in the state of Hawaii. I was hired to help alleviate some of these issue. It is a full-time job.
One day is not enough time to even put a dent in this situation.
I talk to customers at work who are struggling in hard times. It can be difficult since as governmental workers we are also living in these Covid times. It is a challenge working with emotionally-triggered people who have fallen unemployed.
Especially being vulnerable to triggers as a person living in these shifting and uncertain times too. From state workers to the public, everyone has more stress, pressure and anxiety than ever. Additionally, as an adult adoptee, I find myself working with my own emotional triggers along with everyone else’s.
So, I sat with my friendly team of adjudicators who were hired on in June and listened.
What I first realized was a pre-conceived notion: that emotional triggers are mostly reserved for people with PTSD. What I learned from the presentation is that triggers also develop with people with any hurt in their childhood.
“Growing up, we had pain that we didn’t know how to deal with,” stated the slide, with a photo of a crying baby on the screen. “As adults, we become triggered by experiences that are reminiscent of those old painful feelings.”
I listened and gulped down my coffee.
In the hour, I learned how triggers are not just in the land of adult adoptee post-trauma but also interweaves broadly in the scope of the world’s social terrain.
Another slide stated: “(Triggers are) the super-reactive places within you that become activated by someone else’s behaviors or comments.”
The Best Advice to Dealing With Emotional Triggers
“Whatever you feel compelled to do, don’t,” Alice Inoue said, as she explained the golden rule for all emotionally triggering situations. “Put your focus on your feet and toes. Feel the ground beneath you. Take yourself out of the visceral experience of threat so you respond rather than react consciously.”
Create a “counterfact” or reframe a scenario of a current situation that could be worse, so you can feel better about it instantly.
Control what you do have control over: your perspective, decisions and actions. Calm yourself with a “4-7-8” breathing technique.
Apply logic to irrational fears when something happens. And, remember the 3 As: Accept, Adapt and Allow.
Thriving with a Post- Adoptee Skillset
The world is changing everyday due to Covid. Amidst this time I have found untraditional footing in the world because of my own life’s experiences.
As an adult adoptee, I am armed with all of the therapy and coping I’ve done in my past, to where I am educated. Additionally, I can extend my practices into a profession where I work with an emotionally-triggered public in this time of Covid-19.
It was like an epiphany, training in how to thrive professionally and personally as one. My adoptee solutions coincided with serving the public together. Thus, in this time, I have been seeing how each of our own rivers can one day meet the ocean. While learning, how life’s challenges can also become our greatest tools of transformation.
“From every crises and challenge emerges blessings,” Alice Inoue said, at the end of the presentation. “You have a lot of blessings coming to you.”
Today was a difficult day. It was hard picking myself up after falling down. It was harder still, to do the task I had set for myself which was to finish this junk journal spread on this Sunday in Hawaii. Gravity felt like weights pulling down on me. Gradually I felt lighter with each layer of mixed media I applied onto the page. Paintings, a doily, an envelope reconstructed, a little space for handwritten poetic thought written in cursive, cut out images of yellow flowers, Victorian art and pieces of vintage book pages. I finally published it and although my work is never perfect to me, I feel a sense of exultation when my secretive mixed media gets posted, shown for the world to see. I don’t feel as lonely when that happens. I show myself in the most beautiful of ways, showing all the best parts of me. So I try to junk journal on a regular basis, at least one post a week if I can. Today was difficult but I published one spread and that helped me keep going.
What was one thing that helped you keep going today?
Please comment here or write me at firstname.lastname@example.org
It’s been a while since I’ve last posted at ICAV and a lot has happened. But I’m okay. I’m living in a small studio apartment across from the beach now. In a coastal town next to Honolulu. After a pandemic school year of substitute teaching at Kamehameha Schools, teaching Digital Photography and creating a Yearbook for the 8th grade, I’m now a full-time adjudicator at the State of Hawaii, helping out the claims backlog that happened due to Covid. It’s a conditional job, supposed to end in December, but there’s a chance it’ll be extended for another 6 months. I had to take what I could since the field of substitute teaching everywhere is simply not stable anymore.
I’m newly single although I don’t know for how long as I’ve already met someone who makes me laugh which is great. I recently broke up with my ex-fiancee in whom I’d been with for about two years in Hawaii. It was good for me to separate from him although hard, it’s always hard letting go of someones I once loved even though he didn’t treat me well. I think it was the pandemic and all the unexpected variables that brought up behavioral patterns he didn’t know he had. I guess I can’t give excuses for him not treating me well. I just had to leave and I’m not on speaking terms with him anymore.
Life is full of the sounds of the highway, the sight of a glittering ocean, beaches, Aloha Aina. My kitty, Pualani, has been my rock and cord connecting me to this earth as a 35-year-old Filipino-American adoptee. My studio is full of plants, junk journaling materials, penpal letters, flip flops, basic necessities. I have certain stones and crystals that keep my energy grounded, balancing the chaotic cosmos within.
Life these days has been a whole new chapter, working full-time, making ends meet in Hawaii on my own. I started playing Dungeons and Dragons on Monday nights, and Fallout 76 with my new next door neighbor in whom I’ve been hanging out with almost everyday. He’s been inviting me out and keeping me productive, meeting people, exploring Hawaii, beach-going and supporting my secret nerd hobbies simultaneously. I can’t thank him enough for being able to get me out of my shell even just a little bit, which is miraculous.
I sometimes wonder where my life went. I sometimes feel like a failed attempt at a normal adult because I should be married with kids by now. I should own a home, going to parent teacher meetings, I should have found a place to belong in by now, but haven’t. I’m surviving in Hawaii with all these unwritten books inside me, waiting to be let out. I still haven’t found that job I can grow in for the rest of my years to come, but I want to. It’s a constant conflict here in Hawaii because it’s too expensive to own a home. But, it’s a beautiful place that is constantly in flux with all the right kinds of elements that keeps me on my toes everyday. Keeps me trying, everyday.
The city is awe-inspiring. The ocean, a constant mystery and companion to my soul’s never-ending quests. The Hawaiian culture is one that I respect and connect with on an unspoken, intrinsic level. I love living next to a highway where the library is in walking distance and so is a beach. I see the beach everyday now, waking up. It is magnificent. Giving me a profound sense of relief everyday.
In Hawaii, my adoptee past looms ever-present as a silent, disenchanted world of loss that lives in the heart of me, no matter how beautiful the day is. But, more and more, I feel like I can come to grips with my past out here. Somehow, I’m just doing it, moving through it maybe, without knowing why or how. Somehow, I found myself here, living on my own and doing okay, despite the heartache.
Dear Intercountry Adoption Board (ICAB) of the Philippines,
I’m a 33-year-old Filipino American adoptee and I refuse to be erased. I refuse to be ignored. I was born in the Philippines and it was not my choice to leave. But it is my choice to return as an adult and to regain my citizenship. Because, ICAB, I am still here. And I am a human being with civil rights and I deserve this choice.
To date, I’ve been requesting your assistance for dual citizenship and to also retrieve my Filipino birth certificate, but I haven’t heard back from you nor received support for my requests.
Why you, you ask? Why do I keep reaching out and consulting you? And, why is this important, you wonder?
I seek you out, ICAB, because you have been the keeper of my biological records. You have been the storehouse of my Filipino history and the last remains of my Filipino identity. You are the legal witness to my orphaned situation. You have been the writer and transcriber of my last remaining Filipino past. You have been the watcher, overseeing my welfare as I’d lived in an orphanage in the Philippines from infancy until I was two years old. You have been the manager of my international adoption process from the Philippines to the United States. You have been the selector, approving my very adoptive parents and sole caretakers.
You have been the landlord switching over my vacant Filipino estate to another country, transferring me to Holt International’s adoption process in the United States, for me to be naturalized. You are now my living treasury of the last of me, holding my human files, history, heritage and remaining rights of my birth country. So, please don’t ignore me now, when I need you most, to help me recover my history. You are the one that knows best, of what was lost. Please, don’t abandon me now.
I know I am just one adoptee, sharing a plea to not be erased. But one adoptee is vital to the Philippines, because one erasure, is an entire lineage of Filipino heritage and descent. One adoptee, represents all Filipino adoptees because neglecting one, is allowing a different administrative direction to take shape, and human values will be lost with this attitude and transaction of erasure. Neglecting one Filipino adoptee’s needs–will be lowering the bar for others. This action will degrade the virtues that all our adoption agencies, global humanities and civil rights reflect.
Please, grant me access to my Filipino birth certificate. Please, allow my information to be retrievable in an expedited manner, please don’t give me obstacles in my requests. Please, endorse me for citizenship since you are the only one who can prove my Filipino heritage. Please, support me. Please, listen to my needs today, and tomorrow. Please, assist me in trying to make a new pathway to citizenship and a better relation with immigration in the Philippines, because of what this action stands for. For, I am not just one Filipino adoptee, but all Filipino adoptees. And you are the last remaining world and glue holding all of our remains, together.
You, ICAB, are the keeper of all of our futures in the Philippines, and nobody else can govern our past and future citizenship but you.
Thus, today, I push for another step in reunion. Today, I push for more recognition of my human history. Today, I push for regulated acknowledgement of my civil rights. And today, I push for a pathway back to citizenship in my homeland, my motherland, my birth country from where I was born, in the Philippines.
This to date, is a vital goal as to why keeping all Filipino adoptee birth records and information legitimate, accessible and retrievable at all times is important. As in this collective, positively goal-minded action, we, together, keep ICAB erected with the intrinsic values that our global community and sense of Philippine Kapwa is built off of.
Dear ICAB, we will need to work together now, to be able to knit identity back together in the Philippines because the goal of adoption is not to give away, nor to erase, but to restructure, and to rebuild. Adoption is a positive solution, and so is this request, which aligns with the goal of all international adoptions.
The very nature of all adoption efforts combined, is compassion.
On a positive note, I can imagine Filipino adoptees able to give back what we’ve learned on our journey abroad. We are not entirely lost to the Philippines. We can relearn what it is we forgot having lived away from our birth country for so long. We can build new connections and relations with the culture of the Philippines, and regain a new sense of repurposed identity to help the Philippines become a stronger leader in diversity. We can help the Philippine and global economy. We can learn from each other. We can heal the past and that painful separation, with hope.
So please ICAB, don’t erase me. Please, don’t ignore me. Please, see me as still a part of our country, the Philippines, the homeland that had shaped my fate and the country I had been born into as a citizen, long ago. I implore you. Please, don’t forget what it is you’ve been responsible for, taking me in all those years ago. Please, don’t see my requests and questions today, as trivial. Please, don’t ignore my emails. Please, don’t ignore my heart’s calling to reinstate my civil rights to my birth country. I know I’ve been away for quite some time, but I’m still here, and I haven’t forgotten where I come from. Please, don’t give up on me, Philippines.
Because I refuse to give up on you.
Birth name: Desiree Maru
Birth country: The Philippines
Relinquishment: Day of birth in Cebu, Philippines
Orphanage circa 1985: Asilo de la Milagrosa
U.S. Adoption Agency used circa 1987: Holt International
Denny walked into the library and I greeted him at the circulation desk. Immediately, I felt that he was my soulmate. Later on, I found out he felt the very same thing. He’d visited a few more times, and then disappeared for a few months. In that time, I started learning how to fly by myself. I worked rigorously at the library, explored Oahu, shyly started dating using Tinder, and one day we ran into each other at a gym–on the staircase of all places. He gave me his number. The next day, we met at a natural grocers and drove to the coastline together to see the ocean at night. We stared up at a star-filled sky, gazed in awe at billowy clouds, and found out how similar we are to each other. There was an ease and a familiarity with him that I’d never felt before. We think alike, I told him, astounded.
We’re on the same wave, he said.
Starting a relationship has been terrifying for me as an intercountry, Filipino-American adoptee because of my past.
Last night, he told me he wanted to grow old with me. I told him that I’m scared, and he asked me why.
This question made me think, really think.
A Moment of Self-Discovery
The answer to that question, let me to self-discovery. I realized that as a child, I lost the first person I’d ever loved and that was my brother. He was damaging to me and must have broken my heart a billion times, until I moved out at 18. And only in my early 30’s, did I start to heal with therapy. All this time, I’d become extremely absorbed in personal work, art, creative outlets, academics and spirituality, basically avoiding relationships because deep down, I’d been so scared of being close to anyone. This is because I’d been scared to lose what it is that I love the most.
I dug deeper and finally came to a conclusion.
I never thought anyone could ever love me, I said.
My Fear of Falling in Love
This fear, I realized, came from the trauma I’d experienced in my early childhood. I felt that this stemmed back to having felt abandoned by being orphaned as a baby. Those feelings followed me in my early years living in an orphanage. It clung to me through my adoption and relocation to the Midwest, and onward, since my big brother, also adopted from the Philippines, had extreme PTSD. And even though I loved him deeply, he triggered and traumatized me until I was 18.
Starting a relationship is challenging, but Denny’s words of hope have been the seed to a new beginning, watering a new feeling that I can be loved despite my brokenness. It’s watering the hope that I’m not as alone as I once was. And in this constantly reforming present, I am believing in myself more. I am stronger and healthier. And I’ve found what matters most of all–the relationship and love that I have with myself–for in the light of love, I find myself more and more everyday.
Even though this is amazing, to curve my own difficulties, I have to go at my own pace. I must remain independent, and keep focused on my own dreams. I have to give myself space to process and do the things I need to do to remain in check with my own personality quirks and needs. I am still set on becoming a librarian. I am also still set on being a writer and to keep on with my travels, collecting beautiful photos, and artifacts of my offbeat spirituality and meditations along the way.
At 33, I am a late bloomer and all I can say–is that to try is better than not trying at all. To be hopeful, is better to not have any hope.
To keep your dreams alive, is better than living a life empty of them.
Love exists, in a myriad of forms, despite the hardships of yesterday. And what I’ve learned on this journey of a lifetime, is that even if you might not believe in love anymore–this love will still believe in you.
Do you have a successful experience with “falling in love?” Did you have any challenges that came from having a difficult past or from being an adoptee, and how did you overcome these challenges?
I can hear the crickets chirp outside as I write this in my tiny but cozy bedroom in Hawaii. It’s been five months since my departure from Arizona to Oahu, and everything’s been changing. I’ve been changing. And life has been a whirlwind, as everyday brings in new surprises, challenges, love, and especially, books, since I work with books everyday.
A full-time library job that has challenged the very core of my being. Boogie boarding. Learning how to ride the waves. Climbing boulders barefoot as the ocean crashes below me. Sunrises, the color of pink and tangerine. Wind in the trees. Hiking trails that have taken my breath away.
Working out at a gym that has a jacuzzi and steam room. Wearing new, pink glasses. Enjoying a membership at Costco, a consumer’s theme park of food and galore that I visit at least once a week–mostly for the free samples. Partaking in first times. Getting a past life reading in China Town. Going to a Kirtan, meeting a new girl friend. Falling in love with a guy who could be my soulmate, which has been frightening.
Even my clothes have been changing. I’m wearing brighter colors, creative patterns and organic jewelry that have crystals, stones or wood. I’m taking care of my appearance better. Taking care of my skin. Eating healthy food most of the time. Practicing yoga as regularly as possible.
Everyday, has been a process and an opportunity to work on myself. Training my mind withThe Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, has transformed my mind into steering clear away from toxic, negative thoughts that have a way of leaking into my reality. Some days are better than others. The book, Practicing the Power of Now by Eckart Tolle has also made an impact during my time in Hawaii.
I am alone here with no friends or family of my own, so I have to try harder and be more serious about managing myself than others. I have found that it is easier exploring this island on my own.
As a Filipino-American adoptee with a missing a heritage–who was also relinquished to an orphanage the day I was born–remembering myself as a child has been liberating. And, in recent meditations, I found that by viewing my past as not a victim but a victor, or a person that had a choice, I can mend my own past by restructuring my own mental story of it. Mostly alone, but with the occasional company of roommates, co-workers, friends from devotionals, and secret lovers, I slowly become a braver, more wholesome, an eccentrically rooted woman.
And at the end of the day, I hear the crickets chirp in my small but cozy bedroom. I burn some incense, light a candle, sometimes meditate. I sink into my bed, cuddling up with my blankets and pillows.
I am not an orphan anymore, I am barely even an adoptee, I am just a human being with a past that has humbled me into understanding people’s pain and wanting to change this world for the better. As it gets darker outside, I fade into the night. Hawaii keeps my soul warm as I dream. And when I wake, a whole new day begins.
“Leave the past behind, and walk away. When it’s over, and the heart breaks, and the cracks begin to show,” the lyrics of an electronic song plays in my headphones as I write this in Hawaii. It’s Sunday when I finally start this blog about what’s been going on in my adoptee life, during a spell-bound phase of cloudy weather on O’ahu.
I’m sitting on my bed in my bedroom, in the lower half of a five-bedroom house, shared by three male roommates and one other female.
My favorite roommates are Juan, a Mexican man in his later 30’s, and Delano, who is half black and Mexican, and my age, 33. Juan is a serious but insightful human being, I’ve discovered. And Delano, is by far the most humorous and entertaining of my roommates.
My new workplace is a public library that is about a mile away. Here, everything is new and foreign to me.
Nature is Everywhere
The ocean coast can be seen from my bedroom window. A better view of the water can be seen from the balcony and the backyard. Roosters roam and crow at every other odd hour of the day. There are horses in the private property just behind the backyard, in the valley below.
Green lushness is everywhere–a sight that I am still getting used to, especially when driving on a highway through the middle part of this island.
The nature in Hawaii is unreal. It is vast and jungle-like, growing wild and extreme in the distance. It’s been a dream come true being able to live so close to this nature that might be kindred to the Filipino in me.
I moved here two months ago, not knowing if this would work out. But I needed a change, or risk living hampered in a complacent, stagnant life I’d been living in the rugged territories of Northern Arizona.
Healing as an Adult Adoptee
As an adult adoptee, I am healing from my difficult and complicated past.
Day by day, I’ve been unearthing within the importance of self-love, forgiveness, accepting myself as I am and accepting my past as what it was to me. Day by day, I am rising and falling as the human being I am, equipped with the quirks and the delicacies of my own strengths and weaknesses. Day by day, I change.
Every time I see the beauty of Hawaii, I am inching away from yesterday’s pain and struggles. And each time pain and emotions arise, I console myself gently through yoga, meditation and mindfulness.
Gradually, I melt the cold walls that have blocked my heart from loving the way I eagerly loved as a child. Slowly, I get to know others.
My Own Therapies
I boogie board as much as I can. When I’m out there, I empty myself of all of yesterday’s thoughts and emotions. I ride the waves. When I’m done, I lay on the beach with the sun flattening against my body, warming up my organs. I breathe. I focus on peace.
I love to watch the sun set in Hawaii. This gives me a sense of closure and enchantment each day. The sunsets and sunrises reveal a living, natural world that is strong and vital. The sun have nothing to do with having been born an orphan in this world. The sun has everything to do with the waking present and the choices that affect our lives today.
Fear and Insecurities to Overcome
Sometimes, I’m scared but I choose to try to rise above this fear even when I’m feeling inadequate. As an adult adoptee, I’ve been so accustomed to biting down a matrix of hidden anxiety, heartache and stress. But it’s time to release my fears. It’s time to move on.
Fear had haunted my everyday life because I didn’t have the normal support of friends and family most people have to lean on in life. I grew up afraid to make any wrong steps and of not being good enough, often isolated in my adoptee complications. This fear pushed others away. It had also pushed me onward in life to adulthood.
Now, I am realizing that this fear doesn’t serve me anymore.
This fear keeps me from enjoying the present moment. This fear holds me back from being the person I want to become. And so, I work on meditation and mindfulness to transcend my insecurities.
Having all of my possessions in Hawaii, I have also felt insecure of my life’s security too. It was all or nothing, coming here.
Neverless, my life is with me now and all I can do is move on.
At night when I stare up at the stars, I whisper prayers. I ask God to guide me and for love to find me, and love me as I am.
Where my habits of yesterday are changing. I’m eating better. Being more active when I’m in or out of the water. Taking in more sun. I’m exploring nature, cliff sides and exploring places more. I’m slowly coming out of my shell with my roommates and new people I meet.
I can’t fall into past habits of negative thinking. Instead, I live my life without plans, each day ridding myself of worry and doubt.
Working full-time at a public library has also kept me busy here.
Practicing Positivity in a New Job
About 40 hours of my week is consumed with working hard at a public library out here. At work, I’m checking in books, checking out books to the public at the circulation desk, organizing the videos and audio books, and mending damaged library books in the backroom of the library.
Presently, I’m waiting out a 6-month probationary period where after that, I can apply for a higher paid position since I just received my Master’s of Library and Information Science degree last month.
Until then, I have to continue on with this entry-level job at this library, which keeps me occupied all week, 8 am til 5 pm.
What’s been getting me through the rough times is thinking positive, even in challenges, which arise almost everyday at work too.
Staying positive has been getting me through everything.
At the end of the day, I am grateful for the small things.
I don’t have much to my name, but I have cultivated compassion and forgiveness that I feel is worth more than gold. I am proud of these personal accomplishments and all that I’ve done to help others along the way despite my hardships.
I look forward to this new adventure that I’m on and to where I’ll be guided to, one step at a time. As day by day, I live on.