kimette's blog

I often heard people saying they don't understand how someone  can adopt a child to abuse it.

Is it possible that I was adopted to be abused? No, the answer is definitely no. I don't believe that my adopters (or abusers) adopted me to abuse me. I'm sure that my A-mother adopted me because she wanted to become a mother and there was no other way to become one except through adoption. I'm also sure that my A-father adopted me because he wanted to build a family with his second wife and there was no other way to build one except through adoption.  I also believe that in general, normal people don't adopt to abuse a child.

To justify their assumption that  "abuse has nothing to do with adoption", people (usually non adoptees or "happy" adoptees ) will say that abuse also happens in non adopted family.  I'm sure that my A-parents didn't adopt me to abuse me but I don't accept when people say that abuse has nothing to do with adoption.

In my experiences, adoption had played a leading role in the abuses.

My Afather used it to "prepare" me by scaring me. To do this, he talked to me about "Center for Youth in Canada versus orphanages in Korea". I was scared to end up in a center for youth because when my parents were not with me, I was always a subject of teasing, mockery and racism. When I started "behaving badly" in reaction to the abuses, my parents blamed my past in Kore, they blamed my korean father abandoning me and the death of my korean mother.

I laughed while watching the video  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6WlNspQgpM

 I wonder what would be my A-mother's reaction if she was still alive. 

This video made me think of my A-parents (particularly my A-mother) during my first months with them.

I was 9 years old, clean and well trained,  from Korea (my A-mother said later that she was sure that I was 6 years old). Here are some of laughable moments (laughable now but it really wasn't funny at that time)

• They introduced  themselves as "daddy" and "mommy". So I called them daddy and mommy but I thought daddy and mommy meant Mr and Mrs. They didn't know that I was calling them Mr and Mrs when I was talking in Korean.
  
• She bought me some pretty panties for babies. The kind of panties that if the baby falls down, you can see the laces at her buttock. Almost like a tutu, adorable!
• There was already a ton of  toys waiting for me in my room.  I didn't need all those toys: I never had a toy to play with before (except some paper dolls) but I never missed it; I liked better playing outside, jumping or running. I hated playing with barbies but I was fascinated by their complete wardrobe; I often was admiring the tiny dresses, shoes and wigs and I often though that some poor kids out there have  no cloth. My mother was sure that I liked playing with them when I was only admiring them.
  
• Few weeks passed, she put me a doll (wearing a diapar!) in my arms, a doll that could eat/drink and shit/piss.  Gross!!! She wanted me to play with it, to preted to be it's mother. I hated to play with that stuff. I started to spank the doll and looked at my mother: she had a big smile on her face. I spanked it more and she seemed very happy. I felt cute and adorable!
• I found a blade, the same blade as in Korea that I used to use to sharp my pencils. I was so happy to see something that I saw in Korea. My mother started yelling and took my blade. I took it back and I tried to explain her that I knew how to use it since I was 5 but she wouldn't understand. "Bad girl!" she said.
• Since I was in the orphanage, I thought that Americans always  take picture. American visitors always took pictures of everyone and everything. My parents were not different. They were always taking picture of me. I loved to pose for them but there was no limit. They took picture of me while I was crying! I was crying because I missed home (Korea) and friends of orphanage. They said later that I was adorable, they thought I was crying because I was too tired.
• When my mother was washing my hair, I was yelling non stop that she was hurting me. She didn't know how to wash a child's hair. My mother couldn't understand a word, she thought that I liked to be "dirty" when I was in Korea.
  
• I often laid on the floor to think about Korea and my family. Each time, I was silently crying and praying to my death grandmother to bring me  back to Korea. My parents thought that I was scared of my bed (it was written in their booklet) when actually  I liked my bed.
  
• The day I realized that I was in America forever, I went out, I was yelling and crying, saying in Korean: " I want to go back" and "I'm going to tell them (that USA is not a country of fairy tale)". My parents thought that I was a spoiled little girl crying for nothing. They told me later that I was funny and cute. Even after I told them the reason that made me cry, they continued to hold on to their interpretation of a spoiled,cute and funny little girl.
  

I finally decided to blog here. I already hold a blogspot but this one will be different.

I will use this blog to talk about me - only me, not others - my personal thoughts about adoption, my questions that I've never asked to my loving-shitty-adoptive-parents, my anger/hurt for being

put into adoption to another country, my anger/hurt for being