A New Outlook On Second Chances

They say miracles aren’t possible—that they’re a cliché only found in the movies. People may say that miracles aren’t attainable in real life, and if you believe in them then you’re oblivious to the real world. Although I was skeptical of those ideas for countless years, I had a realization. Miracles don’t manifest the ways we think they ought to, like in fairy tales. Instead, they happen in the most overlooked manifestations.

It was the first day of classes at my elementary school and I was the “new kid.” Like any first day, we sat around in a circle and the teacher broke out the icebreakers. The teacher asked questions that resulted in meaningless small-talk such as, “Where are you from,” “What’s your name” and, “What’d you do over the summer?” When it was my turn, I told everyone that I’d just moved to Illinois from Ohio. Some boy stopped me and asked, “But where were you born?” I responded with no mind to it: I was born in Russia. I was about to answer the rest of the icebreaker questions until the group of first graders started asking questions at a mile per minute. These questions stung, with terms filtered in them like “real parents” etc.

It wasn’t until I came home that day after school that I started questioning the idea of adoption: what it meant, what it was, and what it wasn’t. I was always made to believe that it was a way to give children a home, and a way to have a family. Of course, it is those things, but it wasn’t until I was older that I started to think that it was way more than just that.

In my eyes, the act of adopting a child is a way to give them opportunity and a life that they may have missed out on had someone not—in other words—“rescued them.” Every child deserves a chance at equal opportunity and to feel that they belong somewhere, that they are wanted.

So, when people ask where I’m from, I don’t even feel as if it’s a valid question. I’m from a loving family that proves each day that blood is not always thicker than water. A family is much more than a last name shared by a group of people. It is a unity made up of loving, caring and supportive individuals regardless of whether they are blood-related, or even a group of friends.

It’s okay to ask questions regarding adoption, because we can’t blame people for being curious. Adoption isn’t something to be ashamed of, something that we should endlessly ponder or associate with thoughts of abandonment. Sometimes in life there’s a different plan for us and that’s okay. Sometimes there’s a different plan for mothers and fathers as well. That is more than okay. Adoption doesn’t always have to come with a negative connotation.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that just because I was put up for adoption, it doesn’t necessarily mean that there was something wrong with me. I don’t carry hatred towards my biological parents or get stuck on the what-ifs. I’m not wrong for not wanting to seek them out, and I wouldn’t be wrong if I were to want to either.

It’s a miracle to be given a life of opportunity, and it’s a miracle to give my mother and father a chance to have a family. Never be ashamed of who you are, because there is love out there waiting for you.

Thank you to all of those who have taken a chance on the children that dreamed of having a family, a place to call home, and a sense of belonging.

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