Yesterday, when I went out with a friend, she asked if I ever thought about being a victim of human trafficking. Of course it hurts to think about, but I know it’s probably true. The whole process of adopting children from other countries (without helping to provide the infrastructure for those countries to care for the children in the first place) is exploitative in a way.

This isn’t to say that I’m not grateful for my family or feel loved and happy with my mom and sister or my life in the states. But I, personally, can’t ignore the trauma of adoption when thinking about my relationships with other people. I know my sister has no desire to go back to China and find her birth parents and that is alright. Every adoptee processes their life differently.

For me though, the fact that I was taken away from my birth heritage, family, and culture hurts. And I realize that I look for a sense of belonging in other people instead of feeling at home by myself. I need the validation of others to know that I’m safe, and good enough, and worthy. I should know that my life is enough and I am enough. But never feeling like I fit in anywhere has been a constant struggle for me. I tend to rely on romantic relationships in order to fill that gap. Which isn’t healthy. It’s so easy for me to prioritize other people instead of thinking about what I really want. If I don’t have to think about my own happiness and can focus on making others happy, then I must be doing something right, right? The problem comes when I’m alone or broken up with or away from friends and family.

I’m forever grateful for the people who have constantly reached out during hard times and for the calls and facetimes my friends and family have with me. I know that being in my early 20s is a transitory stage in my life, but I wish that I could have somebody who I know is going to see me through it. And I romanticize the idea of a romantic partner because… That’s the narrative that I’ve been fed my whole life. If you meet someone and get married and start a family, then you’ll feel fulfilled. You’ll feel like you have a purpose. But what is my purpose? What makes me happy? Where do I feel at home?

I tend to follow significant others instead of really thinking about what I want to do with my life. Because in my mind, it’s easier to be with someone you love and figure it out rather than being alone and starting from scratch. But that isn’t fair to the other person and it isn’t fair to myself. I am a whole person alone.

My therapist from high school didn’t tell me this until our last few sessions, but she diagnosed me with Reactive Attachment Disorder. I always thought my anxiety and depression were separate cases, but she explained that the way I process the events around me are inherently affected by adoption trauma. And it makes sense. I think about how I cling onto people, even when I know it’s best to let them go. I don’t want to be abandoned again. Isn’t it enough to lose your biological family and culture? Why do I have to lose somebody that I care for as well? But this mindset isn’t healthy.

You can still love someone without being in a romantic relationship with them. It’s not easy and it sucks and it hurts being alone again. But that doesn’t mean the relationship wasn’t full of happy memories. It hurts because it meant something. And although it wasn’t meant to last, that doesn’t make it less valuable. I always learn something from everyone I meet. And I guess the biggest takeaway for me here is that I’ll be okay. I deserve to be happy alone. I deserve stability and kindness and love. I need to spend more time giving these things to myself. But it’s hard when I’ve spent my whole life looking for it from others. It’s a work in progress.