Centering and de-centering our identities

I am an adoptee; and I am so much more.

My experiences are not always immediately related to each of my identities. Sometimes they need to be seen in isolation for what they are. As an adoptee, I have experienced moments of people centering the impact of an experience and my emotions around adoption and found it dismissive because, at the time, they were failing to pause, slow down, and acknowledge my hurt for what it was, pain, not an identity I hold that impacts me.

While lots of people close to me are aware of the trauma of adoption, sometimes that awareness can feel like it is being used as a scapegoat for truly hearing me, responsibility, or meeting me with softness and vulnerability. I can look back at some of those experiences and see the big picture; I can see that my adoption trauma definitely made some experiences hit differently for me than they would someone who is not adopted. But in those moments, my present experience was negated.

Sometimes we need to just be with the present moment and hear the words and feelings that are being shared instead of focusing on what something looks like in the big picture. Both are important, but often the present requires attention first before we bring attention to how something fits into the bigger picture. With time, people may come to see the bigger picture.

It is true that different identities are helpful for us to learn and understand ourselves or describe ourselves to other people. But tightly gripping our identities can also be limiting. So, I invite people to discover, recognize, acknowledge, and understand how their identities impact them. And I also invite people to experiment with their identities and see what it feels like to let one fall into the background temporarily. This can be a practice of discernment and getting to know yourself better. Additionally, throughout our lives, our identities inherently evolve. Maybe not the big ones, but there is usually some fluid nature to who we are, as life has a way of continually shaping us through transformative experiences.

Despite the fact that people like to say, “people don’t change,” I see this as a method of protection or coping, which is entirely acceptable and within reason. And in some cases, and in regard to specific things, it can be true. Though oftentimes, we may not be in someone’s life long enough to see change, or realize we can’t wait any longer. But here is where discernment shows up again and nuance becomes important. We don’t always need to be there for that gradual journey of change, if it isn’t healthy for us. We can’t predict how long it may take, or even if it will happen. But that doesn’t mean that people don’t change, period. It just means maybe they weren’t ready or able to change in conjunction with our timeline, or in alignment with our unique needs. We can use our own agency to decide when enough is enough and if the door is locked, or if we want to leave it cracked open with the possibility that in the future, we may see change.

As a naturopathic doctor, my work is grounded in the belief that people can change and transform themselves, when they are given the environment and circumstances to do so, and in their own time.

And as an adoptee engaged with my adoptee community, I see us congregate, connect, learn, heal, and inspire by sharing our diverse stories and experiences associated with adoption. And I also want to learn who my community is outside of being adopted and how far my community spans outside of our shared adoptee identity. We frequently share many outside interests.

Being adopted has no doubt shaped me. Sometimes it was like being given no foundation or blueprint to life; and, it has guided me to the work I am doing now, which is no small act. But I also see that the edges of this identity are softer now, than they once were. They are actually softer than they were before I truly connected to it. Connecting to my adoptee identity has helped address and soften many of the wounds that it leaves.

I don’t see this experience as contained to the adoptee identity, but relatable to many identities, especially the ones that are marginalized, stigmatized, or hushed by our society. Though unlike many other impactful identities, adoption was originally narrated through rose-colored glasses.