This barcode tattoo on two strangers who are adopted - it’s had my brain spinning about since I saw it. They say it’s a family joke, and that it’s funny. But they don’t see that they’re the punchline. And it’s not funny at all. 1/
This tattoo thread, and the doubling down of how happy everyone is has bothered me so much because I was once the punchline of a long running family joke. It started when I was about their age, 20 or 21. I thought it was hilarious, and even played along. 2/
Until one day, a dozen years later, I saw it for what it was. And that I was the punchline the whole time. And that while my (adoptive) parents and extended family laughed along, they were really laughing at me. 3/
It’s easy to skim along the surface for cheap laughs. That’s what this barcode tattoo is. One day these adopted siblings will understand that they’re the punchline of their own family joke and see it for what it is. And that it’s memorialized in a tattoo. 4/ #adopteevoices
Maybe one day I’ll share the story of this long running family joke, and how cruel it truly was for me, an adoptee - even more when you remember I didn’t know I was adopted until a few years ago. But not tonight. It has to be told correctly, and I don’t have that in me tonight.
The mother, the person who was so proud of what her children had done by getting this tattoo, has locked down her account. It’s her right to do so, but it certainly speaks opposite to her responses and actions yesterday.
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45 years ago today I was handed to two strangers and my mother disappeared. I was 5 days old. #adopteevoices 1/
According to my (adoptive) mom’s account in my baby book, 2 of her friends had helped bring me home. According to my (biological) mother, she and her mother drove me to my new home, and personally handed me over. There was even a tour, or so I was told. 2/
And society at large wants me to be grateful for being given a life and opportunities I maybe wouldn’t have otherwise had, when all I can see is a terrified barely-17 year old being pushed by her mother to had over her 5 day old child to strangers. The first grandchild. 3/
As a child, I would sit in front of my mirror with the family photo album looking for any bit of similarity between my face and theirs. I didn’t know I was adopted then, and yet I understood that I didn’t see myself in their faces. 1/
I played it off as having all recessive genes. My parents never knew how deeply this bothered me, because from the point of view as a child, I felt crazy for it. 2/
When my son was born, he looked exactly like it. He’s 8 now, and it’s still a phenomenon I cannot wrap my head around. I find myself staring at him and digesting all his features that are mine too. 3/
A 🧵 for my non-adopted friends: If a person talks about adoption in a negative way, please don’t dismiss it with a tale of your mailman’s sister’s neighbor’s daughter who had a “good experience”.
She is me.
And while I had a “good experience”, I am not ok for it. 1/
How many people do you know that will openly talk about their trauma with you? Adoptees are particularly good at keeping on a happy face because we’ve been asked to play pretend our entire lives. What you see on the surface in no way means there is not a war raging inside us. 2/
National Adoption Awareness Month, #NAAM, is November. Please let the #adoptees in your life know that you’re an ally and recognize the complexity that adoption brings beyond the publicly accepted ☀️ and 🌈 narrative. 3/