A Glance Back at my Sins

Sia- Alive – Listen here ūüôā

I see that I haven’t written in 11 months- that’s good to know. Well, ¬†a lot has happened in those 11 months- more than I can write about in the hour I am allowing myself to sit down and concentrate. This entry is going to focus primarily on the emotions Sia’s new song has arose inside my mind. I just sat in the bathtub for an hour reciting every incident/ every mistake/ every lesson learned I could remember dealing with my adoption.

I set the book aside because on a typical day, I am really not eager to open those wounds. I read through my journals about eight months ago and the entire thing mortified me. Not only were my actions embarrassing, they were also angry. That anger is no longer a part of my existence. (Well, it lingers and shows up when bitches get me really fucked up. I will fuck a bitch up, don’t test that). But overall, I am a generally happier persons who insight on life spills more towards a half full cup than a half empty one.

So the book is still in process, but its a slow one and I have to find someone who will keep me on track and force me to acknowledge that looking away from my past does not make it disappear. On the days that I absolutely refuse to open those journals, I need to sit down and recognize that as tough as it may be, another individual suffering like I was, can and will learn from the words they read. That will be my motivation.

It is freezing out here. And now I am sitting here, really reluctant to write what I came here for- I really really dislike the thought of what I went through and I really dislike knowing I allowed myself to dig such a deep hole that I almost buried myself and lost it all. I don’t like thinking that I may not be here today, but when I was 19- that was almost the case.

The biggest thing I learned from my experience in my young adult years was the fact that adoption trauma hides under an umbrella of obvious symptoms. It throws all of these emotional issues at you and then hides in the shadows awaiting your ultimate demise. I believe some adoptees may never connect their mental health/addiction issues to adoption and therefore never truly experience a happy existence.

When I began therapy in my senior of high school, I knew why I was there. I felt like something was wrong and I could explain it to a point; however I was embarrassed and ashamed of the words I had to say. So, I never said them until the last session and as those words fell from my lips and slipped into my therapist’s ears, I felt this instant urge to curl up and hate myself.

As an 18 year old, how do you explain to a stranger that there have been women in your life that halt everything else. Women you would jump off a bridge for in order to profess your devotion….How do you explain the rush of excitement at the sound of their voice or the spelling of their names? How do you speak of the happiness they give you that you can find nowhere else….At 18, everyone is exploring their sexuality and although I was not scared to be gay- I was fearful to be perceived as such….b/c in my heart, I knew this wasn’t a scenario of rapid sex hormones….it was more complex than that and the next part is why…..

In the same breath of explaining the happiness I felt, I also needed to explain the unworthiness. The mere fact that a human could make me feel disgusting in their presence was alarming. I never felt good enough for these individuals nor did I ever feel like they could respect me for just me. I was so eager to be something to them that I jumped through hoops, bent over backwards and still hated who I was. How can people make you feel this way without even trying?

Seongnam Scars #2015- The Process

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† This weekend was the first opportunity Ive had to write since I started my new job. My mind is constantly cluttered with ideas, memories and topics I crave to write about; the hands on the clock just move too quickly. But I feel one of the most important aspects of writing this book is that it should touch the heart of someone. I don’t use the word “adoptee” much in the book nor do I address the clinical terms for the adoption crisis that overtook my soul 13 years ago. I focus on the angst. I never had words or definitions to describe how I was feeling. I used to attempt to describe it and only received awkward stares and looks of confusion. I finally feel strong enough to describe these feelings inside a page.

        If this book can touch the life of just one person; the book will be a success. I simply want one person to know that I understand the feelings they cannot/ will not voice.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† I decided to take a unique turn when writing a novel about my experiences as an adoptee. The book doesn’t address clinical terms of adoption or my family/my upbringing. I am writing from my core- the piece of my soul that no one was ever allowed to touch. The use of my journals and the raw footage of their entrails is a testament to the secrecy I felt my journey should be. This book is all I have to give onlookers a visual into my world these past 15 years.

     The writing style I chose for this book was entirely intentional. The lack of flow of the paragraphs was specifically controlled to make the reader uncomfortable. I wanted the reader to feel as uncomfortable as I was while the situations were happening. The discomfort in your skin I wanted to display visually and physically to the readers. This book isnt rainbows and unicorns dancing on top of cotton candy hilltops. There is a lot of anger, frustration and hatred in this book. And I want the readers to feel that wholeheartedly.

¬†¬†¬†¬† So I am sharing a piece of the book with you today to allow you a glimpse behind the gates of my own inner hell. I hope this tiny bit of the book will entice you to stay tuned and continue supporting my personal growth. ‚̧ thank you

“Comprehensive understanding that Michele represented happiness as well as heartache never grew strong enough for me to take control of the situation. Gums salivating like a ravenous dog, I worked endlessly to feed my addiction. Whether she spit harsh words or compliments my way, I felt gratitude for being noticed. Devouring attention by licking residue off pavement, the taste outweighed the shame. As the last drop melted onto my tongue, I kissed her feet in appreciation for the meal.
Hours later, feeling the reality of absence, my demons clawed their way out from my veins into my chest. Jagged teeth consume a bountiful feast of temporary happiness leaving only a ribcage full of void. From head to feet, I am overwhelmed with residual anger. Anxiety activates peaceful nerves forcing my entire body into overdrive. Pause in time utterly impossible as every inch of skin shivers with imaginary roaches tearing below surface.
My mind calculates the past events violently shaking the festering, carbonated angst. Each recalled event puts pressure on my nerves. I finally erupt; vocal cords uncontrollably spew hate and my pen shoots bullets through her organs. The once appreciation morphs into rage. Decade old anger brewed from desire to be loved and sadness because it is not possible vomits into my journal. “




10 steps forward, 5 steps back The

I can’t write this right now. I am not ready to address what I experienced today.¬†



I am worth more than that I promise…..

How much money can I offer you to love me mom? I met you with the expectations that my existence would be enough and yet I have found out that I owe you. Do I owe you because you gave me this life by cutting my umbilical cord from yours? When you touched my hair, could you feel the dollar signs wrinkle beneath your fingers? I am a human being and I suffer with the consequences of YOUR actions. You drink yourself to oblivion because you ALSO suffer from YOUR actions. And all this suffering manifests in countless phone calls of tears flooding floors and words being lost. 

   I thought we looked the same. I could see my face in the lines of your face. Look at the photo below. You look exactly like my grandmother. The way your nose aligns with your high cheekbones. And then I look at me. My eye line is vastly different than those of the women next to me. I can see our differences now. 

I want to touch your heart without covering my hands with grease from greedy insides. I want you to admire me for thriving without you. I want you to make an effort for me. A brilliant effort that can move mountains and shatter windows. I made that effort for you 2 years ago when I sent 400 messages all around the globe hoping to find you. I called the adoption agency every week for two years hoping you existed outside of my dreams. I DO love you, but you are not my cure. 




I have no doubt you are 50% of my genes. I just doubt that you are my mother.

Addiction and the Setbacks

I had an addiction to human comfort. An addiction that plagued my dreams and all my wishes. This addiction once left me disabled with fear and anger; Limbs uncontrollably shivering, curled up on a bed and hiding from the reality that enslaved me. Now I am strong.


I met a boy who literally saved my life 6 months ago. I had just gotten out of a really bad breakup and I was torn with the idea that I would never find true, honest love. Garett is my heart. He glides along my tiniest blood veins and soothes their trembles. He wipes away tears I have not cried yet. He understands the fibers that create me because those fibers align with his own. He is my cure. 


Jealousy Plagues our Veins

Jealousy Plagues our Veins

I wonder sometimes why I was born and given the life…. Am I one of the lucky ones or am I one of the unlucky ones? I suppose it depends on which questions you are asking. If you are asking about adoptive families and birth searches, I am indeed a lucky one. If you are asking about careers and drive, I am an unlucky one.

I have never had drive to be special…never had the drive to get a great job and drive a nice car. A nice car would be awesome to own, but I have never done the work to earn one on my own. Money has never driven me.
So as I find myself searching for a new career, I can’t help but be steered towards jobs that will be fulfilling to me, but not to my wallet. I don’t love money or what it can do for me. I don’t envy people with money or the way they can spend it. My family and friends (and my puppy) make me happy and fulfilled. My family could have absolutely nothing and I would still be content with the life I have been given. This is the plight I am consumed with right now. Does being this selfless make me an unlucky adoptee or a lucky adoptee?

I am jealous of the adoptees who have reunions with parents who can use their cell phones properly. Those adoptees whose parents can use kakotalk. My birth mom can use her smartphone, but only to call you 30 times back to back until you have no choice, but to turn your own phone off. She is a unique blend of alcoholism and mental instability that makes you want to fist pump her one moment and punch her throat in another. She’s my mom in some ways and a stranger in most ways. A story most people don’t understand. I was in a meeting with the President and the Head of Post- adoption services of Eastern Social Welfare Society and my birth mom called me 5 times that hour. I turned to the women and I apologized. “My mom has called me nonstop all day….like 20 times just today,” I said as the words dripped from my lips. Both women smiled and the President said, “oh she is being a typical mom I see.” No….

However, as quirky as my birth mom is….I have a birth mom who wants a relationship. So am I unlucky or am I lucky? Again, it depends on what question you are asking. Tons and tons of adoptees would love to have found their birth families as easy as I did. I can only imagine how my reunion sounds on paper to others and how they long for such an experience. In this way, I am very lucky. However, if you ask if the situation is ideal, I can’t consider myself lucky. The situation is pure insanity.

I have a lot on my plate…..a lot of screaming words bouncing off my skull when i am conscious. When I dream, I am plagued with unresolved issues that cause me to grind my teeth until blood is drawn. Sometimes I wish I could rest my brain. Doesn’t my brain get exhausted from constantly analyzing situations? Maybe I am unresolved myself. I have dreams and hopes that I cannot reach with this mindset.

Today I realized I have no friends….I have an amazing boyfriend, but no friends. I don’t have these urges often, but today I wanted to find someone to go to a concert. I searched my phone followed by my Facebook and realized that I have absolutely no one in my area, available in my life, to just call and hang out with.
I have never someone decorate my locker in high school or throw me a surprise party. I have never had a friend go out of their way for me or do something simply because I wanted to do it. I have been this person for so many people. I sacrifice my time, and my efforts for everyone around me, but realized I have no friends who would do this for me. My best friend didn’t even know I went to Korea. All I want is a ‘real-life’ friend who would go out of their way for me. Who would do as much for me as I would do for them….I have never had this so what kind of life am I living?
So am I one of the lucky ones or one of the unlucky ones? I can’t answer this question b/c I think it depends on what you are asking. It all depends on what you want to know….

Korea: My Observations


So I have been in Korea for 1.2weeks ūüėÄ It has been¬†entirely¬†uplifting to experience Korea the way I have in the past week. I think traveling somewhere is the most exciting when you are surrounded by people who are also excited about your trip and your arrival. I have had the greatest¬†honour of¬†staying with two¬†separate friends who both took time out of their lives and¬†their schedules to ensure that I had a good time in Korea.¬†

¬† Because I have been honest in my blog with you guys about my birth family reunion, I am going to tell you about the couple days I spent with my mom. (I think numerous, if not all, English professors will tell you not to start a¬†paragraph with ‘because, but….) Anyhow, my friend Su-Jahn, who picked me up from the airport and let me stay with her for a few nights, speaks fluent Korean and English. She also lives in Korea, making her a fabulous resource if i am ever in trouble. I feel like I¬†warned her a tad bit about my mom, but it is something you¬†have to experience in order to fully understand.¬†

   We met with my mom on a Thursday and i was really proud of her initially because she upgraded all her phones to smartphones and

she got a job which I thought was absolutely insane. Things went really well overall and I don’t think she scared Su-Jahn too bad. We went to get my favorite meal all together and it just so happened to be by my grandmother’s house. After dinner, we spent about an hour crawling up and down staircases hidden in lights and store signs. Railings…all she remembered about the house was railings….I finally called my grandma’s phone number which i stole from my mother’s phone while she wasn’t looking….

¬† ¬† Finally we walk up a a steep staircase hidden between two stores and there they were…..the railings….you ever see those drop stairs hanging off building sides in case of fires or escaping from the police? The stairs were just like them. My mom said they chose this apartment for my grandma so she couldn’t try to leave. “What….?”

¬† ¬†We walked in and my grandma was sitting on the floor with her dog. My ‘aunt’ who was terrifying looking was walking around cleaning up dinner and cleaning the house. I knew that my mom and my aunt didn’t get along and my instant reaction was to defend my mom and side with her. Mind you, things were going really well at this point. However, my feeling slowly changed as my aunt explained to Su-Jahn that she was one of the people who offered to take care of me. My aunt still looked tough, but she patted me on the back and I felt a sudden calm overtake me. She was one of the good guys.¬†

¬† ¬†My grandma’s eyes never left me. i couldn’t hear anything she was saying or understand it for that matter, but I saw the amazement in her eyes. She was in disbelief that I was sitting in front of her. i could feel that sensation tingling my insides as I stared back at her in amazement of her existence in my life too. I finally found my grandma. ¬†

¬† We took a photo or….four and then my mom was ready to leave because her boyfriend was calling. i could feel a tension between my mom and her mom. Something inside that house was thick and uncomfortable. I couldn’t imagine walking into my mother’s home and feeling like crawling out of my skin. Something my adoption has genuinely blessed me with.¬†

¬† ¬†My mom’s boyfriend met us at her house for dinner and they wanted to bring us to Han River, but to be honest, I had been awake since 6am and I was emotionally exhausted from everything i had to absorb that day. So instead, my mom’s boyfriend drove us home. Now my feelings on the boyfriend were not good walking into this situation again. A man dating a married woman can never been a moral man and with my conservative views leaking from my pores, I judged him pretty harshly. At one point, Su-Jahn leaned towards me and whispered, “They are cute together.” I looked back up at the two individuals and realised my mom as well as her boyfriend were happy. The feeling in this room versus at my grandma’s house was drastically different and warmer. They were laughing and nudging each other as she fed him. They love each other and I respect that.¬†

¬† ¬† i am getting a neck ache from staring down at the tablet so I will finish these adventures later today or tomorrow….¬†




So many things ahead, so why do I keep looking back?

So many things ahead, so why do I keep looking back?

So many things ahead of me in this month. My birthday is in 16 days. I get to play my first low bounce paddle match on 4/22. My boyfriend’s birthday is 4/27 and my trip to Korea begins on 4/28 which is also the day of our 4 month anniversary. And it means that I will get to see my birth family And yet, I have something on my brain that is itching all my senses.

Maybe it is the adoptee inside of me….but part of me is making a revelation that the situation I was in this past year was partially my fault too. I am starting to feel like my selflessness is sprinkled with lack of self worth and topped with a constant need for reassurance. I was shopping for thank you cards for my paddle team today and I kept walking in circles around Target because I felt like a $9 card wasn’t enough to express my gratitude. I finally got tired of looking down the same halls and left, but as I drove home…something inside my brain made me say out loud to a car full of emptiness, ‘I always need to buy more because it is never enough. I was never enough’ And in that moment where those words left my lips, I realized that my selflessness could just be a lack of self worth masked with a pretty word.
The lethal mix for me is always trying to gain love from people incapable or unwilling to give it to me. I have done this all my life. It sounds so ‘adoptee’ to me. “Oh, poor little adopted girl, always recreating her abandonment by begging for love from people who have no interest in her’
I once told my tennis coach I would jump off a bridge for her in a HORRIBLE attempt to explain my willingness to serve her. Maybe not the greatest choice of words, but it was that strong. I am plagued everyday with this ache inside my chest. Some people can sleep away their days and their worries. Mine find me in my dreams.

I have grown a lot since the first time I experienced this feeling. I used to be driven by it; broken by it and disemboweled by it. Now, I can sense when things are wrong and at least attempt to try and halt their advances through my nervous system. With this being said, I am nowhere near perfect and definitely nowhere near cured. I still deal with the feelings and emotions every single day that derive from being adopted.
And in this moment, I am feeling needy. I am searching for something/someone to reach out and start the cycle again. The highs and the lows combined with the happiness and the anger. I absolutely hate it when I am in it, but I can’t function without it. It is like I am drawn to the idea of being in emotional turmoil.
My journals are hidden inside my room; hidden from the eyes of those who love me. I have sat in my room wondering when I should burn them so that if I die too soon, my sins will perish with me. Reading through them is so embarrassing for me because I sound crazed and out of control. I have hundreds of text messages, conversations and feelings scattered through white pages laid with colored writing utensils. It is scary the amount of time and the amount of effort I had to dig out of myself to write down almost every interaction I have had with a handful of people.
This has made me want to read my old journals. Let’s write excerpts from each one and you can see the similarities through the years:

“Monday I texted ‘insert name’ I sent it at 1:18pm because she’d answer by 2. 2 passes, 3 passes, 4 passes, 5 passes, 6 passes, 7…I left my phone and went downstairs. Fuck her~ I came back and had a missed call on my phone as well as a voicemail. It was from her yay! Amazing, I called her back and it was just perfect. Just perfect”



“I can’t see -insert name- on Monday anymore. Gotta go to Greensburg. I would never be back in time. I will tell her tomorrow. She is texting me weirdly. Like a stupid cunt. I don’t even want to fucking see her. wtf. screw you. whatev”



“Mama texted me and i asked her if she left me a voicemail, she said no. Matt called me so I thought it was him. It wasn’t. It was from -insert name!- She said my card was the best present and asked me how I made it. All the time and money was sooo worth it. She is so worth it”



“Today I texted -insert name- and she didnt answer forever. I had a panic attack and then slept all day because of it. SO EXHAUSTED. She texted me around….well i dont know and opened the door for me to vent and I did. She basically promised to shes gonna be a great friend to me. And she offered to take to me to the counseling center (sound familiar?) so we’ll see. I’m staying on my belief that -insert name- is selfish by heart. Told her to prove to me that people can be can be real friends”


“We ended up getting to Monroeville but we stopped at Chik-fil-A where -insert name- bit my head off. I was tired of being talked to like that so I just let it be. She apologized but I didnt even wanna hear it. In the van, we usually sit where our legs are touching, but I sat all the way at the end of the seat. Wasn’t in the mood. We got to Club4Life and she apologized again. I said, ‘its fine’ but still wasn’t in the mood. 20 minutes went by and I was sitting by Janelle and -insert name- came over and stood over us. And all I did was stick my hand out for a high five as a sign of truce. And she returned it and we held on for a bit. We are better together and I couldn’t stay mad”



“I said goodnight to -insert name- Literally told her I was going to bed. It was 9:51pm. I lied clearly because she saw me on facebook. She was online too. I just waited….and she did eventually text me and call me out on it and how it was bothering her and that I should have just said I didn’t wanna talk. And all i answered was, “whats really going on with you -insert name-” She was acting a lot like…me on a bad day. And it’s just weird. Our friendship is weird.”


“So on Saturday I sent -insert name- an email and she never answered and dude I’ve never been so angry in my whole life. I deleted her on facebook and it took me so much heart to do it. So yeah. The email I sent her was so sappy and pathetic that I couldn’t handle it. But it was honest and that’s all I can do. Well I saw her at work it was just awkward. Not awkward. It was tension. I go to teach and when I finish I see a message from my gmail saying I have an email from her”

Each insert name from each year is a different person. Yet the story is the same. The cycle remains the same and I am exhausted….exhausted from this chaos inside my brain.

I am going to do my best to focus on the things that make me happy. My boyfriend makes me happy. My upcoming trip makes me happy. My birthday will make me happy. His birthday will make me happy. Happy thoughts ‚̧

If being busy means filling my time by helping others, I am ALL for it

Good Morning!! It is 7:18am on a chilly Wednesday morning and I just finished my cup of coffee and now I am enjoy the silence of the fact that there is only 4 people in the gym right now. The silence is calming to me in the morning especially when I am tired. 

¬†¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†I just wanted to congratulate EVERYONE on our success on my fundraiser. On Saturday @ 10:30pm we conquered our goal of $5,000! I was scared to post about it because we still have a month and I wasn’t sure people would continue to contribute if they found out I had already reached my goal. However, I am pleased to announce that we are at $5,250 ūüôā A personal shout out to my platform tennis team for their contributions even after they have taken me under their wing and supported me more than I can ask for. This charity was simply an idea I had in order to make my trip to Korea worthwhile and now it is actually happening and I am shocked that it has had this amount of support.¬†

¬†¬† ¬† ‚̧ KADxLove