36 Grown-Ups Spill the Tea on What Being Adopted Really Feels Like

When I say I’m adopted and someone asks about my 'real' parents, meaning biological, I get a bit cranky. My real parents are the ones who raised me, fought for me, and loved me unconditionally. That’s my family.

I’ve got early memories with my adoptive parents, so they’ve always been my true parents. Making a kid is the easy part; raising one is the real deal. Adoptive parents really choose to stick with you, so that bond runs deep.

I was adopted from South Korea as a baby. My birth mom was young and gave us up to give us a better life. We don’t want to find her because she may have kept this a secret. It’s a blessing we got this chance. Everyone’s story is different.

Adoption isn’t secretive. Families usually tell kids early on. People might feel sorry when they find out, but being adopted often means being *chosen* and loved hard. That leaves some mysteries though - like family medical history, or wondering about nature vs nurture. It’s a lot to think about.

Being adopted from birth means your adoptive parents are your whole family. Like Yondu said, 'He may have been your father, but he wasn’t your daddy.' Also, better to laugh at the self-deprecating jokes about being adopted because that’s how I deal with it!

This is a thing: people say 'You’re adopted!' in a teasing way. Like when I say I hate chicken wings, my adoptive mom jokingly replies, 'Yeah, well, you’re adopted!' Family friends look shocked, but I like opening up the convo. Talking about adoption helps everyone understand it better.

Sometimes I think about if my birth mom ever held me, why she gave me up, or if she thinks of me. Turning 18 felt surreal, like maybe she’s thinking of me now. I hope I get to meet her one day; there’s a piece of me that’s missing without knowing.

I’m super chill about being adopted. When friends ask about family history, I just say, 'I dunno, I’m adopted.' They get all awkward, but it’s no big deal to me. The person who raised you is your parent, not the one who birthed you, that’s how I see it.

I was adopted and met my birth mom through an adoption registry. It wasn’t a fairy tale - it was emotional and a bit sad, but I’m glad I did it. Finding a birth parent won’t fix everything, but the truth matters.

I was adopted super young, and for me, it’s just normal. I don’t dwell on my biological parents - it’s like a small talk topic that doesn’t go anywhere. No big emotions, just facts.

I was born in Cambodia and adopted as a baby. People always thought I was just a random kid, not with my parents. Sometimes folks even asked if I was lost. That’s just part of the adopted kid life.

When you have to write 'unknown' for family medical history, doctors act like you’re speaking another language. Closed adoption is a thing, people!

Being adopted after my earliest memories means I have relationships with both my biological and adoptive parents. Both sets play unique roles and I choose simple labels just to make things easier when talking about it.

1) My adopted family *is* my real family - don’t call bio fam "real".
2) Figuring out who you really are can be tricky forever.
3) Blood isn’t everything; friends can be family too.
Plus, I’m open about my story to help people understand adoption better.

As a bi-racial guy adopted into an all-white family, the stares - especially in places like Alabama and Nashville - can make me feel like I don’t quite belong. Once, a kid even asked if I was unwanted! (No worries, we laughed it off.) Oh, and I joined my family at 18, so there’s an extra twist.

I was born in China, adopted by a white family, and know nothing about my biological family or history. Being a different race than my family has made me struggle with self-acceptance. Many people don’t realize how complicated that can be.

I sent a letter to my birth mom and am waiting to hear back. The wildest part was seeing my original name on my birth certificate - it felt like I was someone else. Identity hits you hard. My adoptive family’s love is strong, but they don’t always get those complex feelings.

My adoptive family jokes about whose hairline the kids get, then they glance at me and remember I’m adopted. Suddenly, I feel that pull for blood relatives I never expected.

I was adopted by my grandparents when I was 18 months old so I wouldn’t be caught in my bio parents’ divorce mess. I had a great upbringing with them, but years later I chose to live with my birth mom. That choice doesn’t erase my grandparents being my true parents - losing my grandma hit me hard. Adoption stories can be twisty!

Found on a park bench in China as a toddler. Everyone asks if I want to find my birth family - yes! - but I have no clue how. I wonder about genetics, culture I missed out on, and if my kids will carry my heritage. I think people who refuse adoption because it’s “not their kid” miss that family is chosen.

The search can feel endless, full of hope and heartbreak. It’s a wild ride that many adopted folks know all too well.

Adoption gave me a different life, not a better one. My first parents wanted a loving home, but my adoptive parents? Not so perfect - they were racist and religious, and I was treated like a mistake. Adoption isn’t magic - it’s complicated.

Wanting to find my birth family doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful for my adoptive ones. It just means there’s a part of me hungry for roots. The crazy desperation to know your beginnings? I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

The people who raised me are my real parents. The ones who gave the DNA? That’s my biological family. Simple as that.

I was stocking shelves when a man comes up, looking like me, and calls my name. Turns out, he’s my dad who’d been trying to find me for 18 years but was afraid of my reaction. That day, I cried buckets and started figuring out how to handle this wild new chapter.

People in my small town gossip and kids mock me about my 'real' mom not wanting me. It’s hard to shake off a feeling like that, even when you know it’s not true. It made me close off, thinking only my adoptive parents would ever truly love me.

When folks hear I’m adopted, they ask about my 'real' parents. Yep - those are the ones who raised me, and I know them well. I have met my biological parents too, but my parents are the ones who made me, me.

My mom’s my mom, but my stepdad legally adopted me. People don’t realize adoption isn’t only for orphans or tragic situations - it’s just another way family grows.

My aunt and uncle raised me after my biological dad’s health crashed. My bio mom was around but not full-time. It was confusing being pulled two ways, but my aunt and uncle have always been my real parents.

I contacted my bio dad’s family and learned he’d passed away 15 years ago. The only thing I have from him? A tiny wooden potty he made. It’s weirdly the most real connection I have.

My wife and I are both adopted. Our kids are our first known blood relatives. Being accepted as family is amazing, but meeting that first genetic relative was wild and overwhelming.

I was 14 when adopted, which made me feel like a miracle caught by my family. I didn’t get to choose, so questions like 'Are you happy?' sometimes irk me. It’s complicated.

I was taken by police 20 years ago, leaving scars and attachment issues. But I’m not broken; I’m more than that. Before marrying, I always wanted to meet someone’s family - just in case.

I get asked if I call my adoptive parents mom and dad. Yep! I was adopted at birth and only have two parents who raised me. That’s all that matters.

My stepdad legally adopted me, so I’m 'half-adopted.' Adoption isn’t just for orphans or special cases - it’s a legal way to be family and I love it.