Adopting Yourself – By: Jason C. Cushman


The ironic part about being an adoptee is that the first and final steps of our lives are the same. Just as we must accept being adopted in the first place, we must also accept ourselves for who we are in the end. That acceptance, that journey, can take a lifetime to occur and not all adoptees ever fully accept who they are. Those people caught between the want of “what ifs” and the “hard place of reality” never fully live life as they should because they are stuck living half their life with regret. I have known that place myself and can recount times in my childhood when I wished for anything but what was real. I wished to be someone else.

Adopting yourself is a lot easier when you know where you came from. You have a starting point and regardless whether that position in life is a good one or not you still have something to build off of. Life is hard enough without feeling like you must add additions to a question mark. That is what it feels like for many of us that are missing years of our past as we are forced daily to build upon that emptiness that we often feel. The old saying goes to not build your house upon the sand and mentally I can relate to this analogy. When you pile memories upon clouds of hope sometimes those clouds explode and your hope comes tumbling down. That shouldn’t stop you from hoping, but as humans we learn to become wary of things that can potentially cause pain. Hope is a good thing, but it can also become the bearer of the worst pain imaginable.

Many adoptees encounter struggles with depression as they struggle with images of themselves. When you walk for too long in the land of depression you become numb to feeling and your daily life flashes like a fading memory. Only strong and personal moments are fully captured and those glimpses into our lives are often garbled by the mental struggle that we are enduring. Sometimes the memories are pictures without sound and other times they are words or phrases that stand out in the night. I have held depression’s hand many times and my head is full of glimpses of our encounters.

I remember one day when I was fully under depression’s influence and I was taking klonopin daily to fight the shadows of doubt over whether or not I wished to live. I was standing in the kitchen of my parent’s home staring out the window while it rained. I watched as before my eyes the rain suddenly stopped falling and hung midair as if nature had rebelled against its natural course. My father walked up behind me and saw me looking out the window.

What are you looking at son?” he said with concern in his voice.

I hadn’t realized that I had begun to cry. I looked at him and said in a near whisper, “the rain has just stopped midair Pop. It won’t fall to the ground. It is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.” A week later I tried to kill myself.

It is easy to consider things in retrospect and to wish you had done things differently. I have many regrets in my life, but some of the hardest actions to accept from my past have been in relationship to my adoption. Actions I did or did not take when the opportunity presented itself, those are the memories that are on constant replay in my mind. It is a hard thing to live life by tracing the lines of regret from our past, but often in our depression we do this. We do this because the saddest times often outshine the happiest from our lives. It is far easier to focus on what we don’t have than what we do. That is very human.

When I was two years old my mother left me on a street in front of a police station. In the Korean culture this was translated into the mother no longer wanting the child. I was not alone though, I later found out she left me a hand to hold onto. A five year old sister I have since searched for was also left on that street to hold my hand and wait for a mother that would never return for us. She must have had half a heart though because she did come back for my older sister later on… but left me behind. Sometimes in the night I imagine I can still feel her hand. I often wonder if she remembers me.

I was adopted and sent by plane to a black and white world. At 3 years old it did not take long for me to realize I was in a world I did not fully belong. Growing up as an Asian American in the deep south of the Unites States is a challenge for anyone. That challenge is increased astronomically when you are unsure of who you are and what you are supposed to be. The only thing I remember being sure of was that I was different. My eyes were small, I was small as well, and my family wasn’t created from the cookie cutter mold of southern society. We were multi-cultural and at the time that was still visually a strange thing to see in everyday life. I found it hard to accept myself in a society that obviously did not accept me.

I found for most of my life I was forced to continuously adopt the image that I was. Growing up in a black and white world with almost no Asian friends was tough. I had no point of reference for what an Asian should look like, act like, or even just “be.” I can recall many days where I would return home from grade school and I would slam my door shut on society as a whole. A society that chased me in my dreams, a society that made me ashamed of my skin color. I would look to the sky and pray to any god that would listen to please make me a different race. Black… white… it didn’t matter at that point. What mattered was being accepted and I simply knew that I would never be accepted clothed in the skin I wore at the time. I remember praying for this many times through tears of confusion because I still could not comprehend why I was so different. I simply knew I was and I hated it.


Jason C. Cushman

-Opinionated Man





18 thoughts on “Adopting Yourself – By: Jason C. Cushman

  1. I am so sorry for all the pain you have endured through your adoption. Your story is really helping me to have a different perspective on these things for my own adopted kiddos. I know they already sometimes struggle with these feelings of being neglected and abandoned. I am truly thankful for your transparency in telling your side of the story. Please know there is a little good coming out of this, in the way you are helping me and any other adoptive parents understand the adopted child’s struggle a little more. For this I am grateful and appreciative, yet I am truly sorry that it is told with pain in your heart. I pray for peace that surpasses all understanding….


  2. You’ve convinced me, I’m going to the courthouses first thing Tuesday to file the paperwork! Sometimes it baffles me that with all life has tossed my way, abandonment and feelings from being adopted are sometimes the hardest and linger the longest.


  3. So sad for you, as a little boy, to be praying to be a different race, feeling like you never fit in. I like how you speak of it as ‘adopting yourself.’ And the part about the rain is really powerful. Sorry for all your pain, Jason. This is beautifully written!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: The Weekly Headlines – My Daily Musing – Br Andrew's Muses

  5. Pingback: The Weekly Headlines – My Daily Musing

  6. I need to read this 10 more times. There is so much depth. So much emotion. So much perspective . I am sorry your mother left you. I am sorry she came back for your sister and not you. I am sorry you were so sad you tried to kill yourself. I really feel your pain in this but also your perseverance and your strong will. I want to read it more so that I can make sure I didn’t miss anything.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Heartbreaking as always to read your life story. Thanks for sharing. I learn a lot. I grew up with my biological parents with biological sisters and no divorces and other for that time “not normal” things that my friends sometimes struggled with. I faced difficulties later in life. But it’s so important to be reminded of destinies like yours. So thank you. And I hope you someday find your sister. I bet she’s got memories from that day too.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. It’s amazing how some of us have experienced the same feelings. Although much of those experiences were surrounded by differing circumstances, they all led to the need to feel accepted. Thanks for sharing your story.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I can relate to much if this post. I vividly remember wishing to be anyone but me. I was a baby girl kicked to the curb by my clan. I felt so unloved by the unknown family who gave me up yet loved by those who chose me. I was “special” but not in a good way … in an ostracized way of being different.

    Hope is a bitch! I gave up on her and only then could I accept myself. I still have days of lingering doubt. But I’m not dead yet, so acceptance will be mine!

    Thank you so much for sharing your story.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I am overwhelmed after reading the entire piece.Coming up with words is difficult for me as I know they hold no power in alleviating the circumstances you endured and the puzzling questions whose answers elude you.But I am convinced that you are a real fighter and a wonderful human being altogether.Never forget that.The strength which you have shown in those times and continue to show today is admirable and I respect it so much.I am so glad to know you, to be part of your blog as well and I will continue to see the amazing person you become each and every day!Loads of respect.

    Liked by 2 people

Share your opinion

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s