Oh look, an adoptee who loves her closed adoption. That’s not ordinary or expected at all.
This one hit me hard where it counts.
So I don’t feel very eloquent about it. I can’t mock this mess or dismantle it paragraph by paragraph right now. All I have to say about it is this: The information this woman takes so much for granted that she can loft it about as evidence for her soopaspecial loyalty to her adoptive family is more than I will ever know, after years of searching, about myself and my origins.
I AM NOT GLAD TO BE THE PRODUCT OF A CLOSED ADOPTION. I will never know my first father’s name. I’m sorry this entry is so short, and I’ll do better tomorrow, but I could just fucking choke on this woman’s glibness.