Write the beginning of your story

Did you grow up knowing you were wanted?

I was told I was chosen, that my adopted mother and father chose me. But did they?  I mean, they wanted a baby and I happened to be there at the right time, at the right place. Had another baby crossed their path they would have been the chosen one. “You were chosen,” is really just a Hallmark phrase used to make my parents feel good about not being able to produce their own offspring, and for me to feel good despite being someone else’s discarded family member.

Every story has a beginning and an end. Wait, every story actually has many beginnings and many ends. I had a Korean life that began and ended. I had an American childhood that began and ended, along with adolescence, young adulthood, & adulthood. I’ve had multiple roles that have began and ended like, student, teacher, & friend. And some roles, like mother and wife, will never end - until I end. 

The thing about beginnings is you get a chance to start over, you can wipe the slate clean. You can work to right past wrongs or reinvent yourself. It’s exciting when you’re in charge of your beginning, when you make the choice to start anew. However, forced beginnings, ones where we didn’t choose to start over like in a break-up or a tragedy, those hit differently. You still have the same opportunity to start over, but it’s not what you wanted or what you planned. You feel like you’ll never get to that emerging moment because you have to trudge through so much sadness and self-doubt. You can’t plan the next hour, the next day, let alone a new beginning. The illusion of control is removed from forced beginnings and the despair you feel grows into a mountain leaving you in its cold, dark shadow.

I’ve had a lot of beginnings. As a Korean adoptee I have the familiar beginning of being told I was found, abandoned on a doorstep. Like so many other of my KAD (Korean ADoptee) brothers and sisters, we were told a tale of how we were saved by some good citizen and then thrown into our Adopted parents’ loving arms. But, for some this story was a lie, shattering the only beginning they’ve ever known leaving them with no beginning or a new one they have to reconcile. What if you don’t have a beginning. What if you have to choose your own beginning, like a Choose your Own Adventure book. Where do you start? What do you chose? When you have the possibility to define yourself and your beginning, what mark do you draw the line at and slam the slate board to signal the action begins?