True self versus trauma self

In the fog versus out of it.

They ask “wouldn’t you rather…” 

Would non-adopted me be better?

Would non-adopted me be worse off?

I read somewhere that it’s not about better or worse,

Life would simply be different

But there’s nothing simple about it. 

Internal struggles, always with me 

Along for the ride

come to a screaming boil in my head.

A framework for the rest of my life

Expectations

The things I walked away from. 

Out of the fog 

And into the frying pan. 

Who am I because I was adopted?

I am silly and quirky

But not because of adoption.

I am quiet and thoughtful

Because it was a way to survive.

Because I am adopted,

I am resilient and resourceful.

Because I am adopted I carry many contradictions, 

I carry the better and the worse.

I am strong but anxious,

Smart but confused.

I am beautiful but self-hating,

Passionate but subdued. 

Life would still be complicated,

Different challenges for a different life.

It only leaves me wondering 

What parts of me wouldn’t be the same.

The outcomes of my adoption

Have me peeling apart layers of self

Trying to find what’s true in the gray.

A ghost life lingers 

whenever I think of 

her warm embrace.