I have always known that I was adopted, it was very obvious within my adopted family. My adopted family, The Halverson's, are descendants from Norway and Sweden. Meaning, we are very Scandinavian. Growing up, we celebrated our heritage and celebrated holidays with very scandinavian twists. I mean, who doesn't celebrate Christmas with some herring and lutefisk. Well, my adopted father does enjoy a good Lutefisk meal. As far as I know he still goes to Lutefisk dinners at our church.
Another highly obvious factor for my adoption was the fact that all my siblings either had blonde or light brown hair. I have dark brown hair. It is often confused for black. But this didn't stop my parents from making sure that I knew I was adopted. It was never a secret. They even took videos of their trip to Chile to pick me up. As a toddler I remember watching those vides on VHS often. I was so curious to see if I saw my mom. That was a such a great gift that my adopted parents gave me. I am forever grateful for that. That's probably a HUGE reason why I really enjoy filming videos now.
When it came time for my mom and dad here to enroll me in school, they chose to enroll me at Adam's Spanish Immersion School in St. Paul, MN. Where I become fluent in my native language. I was very proud of that, but also highly nervous whenever my adopted family asked me to show off to friends and other native spanish speakers. I was very shy. Now that I'm older and in my 30s.... LET ME SPEAK SPANISH. Isn't that interesting how that works? I'm not as fluent as I used to be but I know enough to understand and hear other spanish speakers. It's actually entertaining to have people stereotype me as a scandinavian white lady and hear them talk crap about me in spanish.... and yet, I understand everything. The looks I get when I reply to them is very satisfying. This is ALSO a great example to stop judging people based off of how a person looks.
I was in highschool when the urge to find my birth parents really began to show. I was so intrigued by how my nieces and nephews looked so much like my siblings that it cause me to ask "Who do I look most like? my mom? my dad?" Let's be honest as well, blood does usually cause family members to be closer to each other. Especially in a healthy non-toxic family. (That was one amazing gift my adopted parents gave all of their kids, adopted or not) My sister is also adopted but not from Chile, and she blends really well with my siblings. Very Scandinavian looking as well. But my sister and I always felt, left out. It was never the intention by my family but it just happened. Brothers would show up for each other but I would sit at my orchestra concerts with no siblings to cheer me on. I remember the one time my older brother Peter showed up to my concert. I was so happy to see him. Even if it was just to see him peak in through the doorway and then leave. I don't remember what else was going on that evening but I do remember wishing they could have just sat down and heard me play. This is also proof that children pay attention to who shows up and who doesn't.
It was because of those several times that they failed to show up for me that I asked myself frequently, "would my birth family show up? Would they have supported me?" It was within these questions where the negative feelings really attacked me. I was showered with shame and depression in my highschool years. Why wasn't I loved like my adopted siblings? Why didn't they care about me? Depression raged within me. I just wanted to feel wanted.
Fast forward to college, I chose to stay near home. My college was only 8 minutes away from my parents. I loved it. I could rush home to my daddy whenever. I was a daddy's girl growing up and I love him with all my heart. He is and will always be my First and primary idol. The first example of what love is. He loved my mom so much and still loved her after every fight. He traveled a lot when I was little and when he would leave our neighborhood he would always step on his brake lights twice to show me that he loved me. It was our thing. Not to mention we had what I called a "lap" which was me basically kissing him all over his face, like a circle or a race track!!
This didn't deter my fear of... being abandoned. Not wanted. My college roommates were worried for me and I was required to attend school counseling. I really didn't take it seriously like I should have then. As a middle aged woman now, I LOVE counseling and think it is the BEST thing for ANYONE to do. There is no shame in counseling. It is NO different than having a coach for a sport. This is just a coach for your life!
What I'm trying to say is that because of my adoption situation, I developed depression and anxiety. This constant feeling of, I'm not good enough. Am I thankful for my life? HELL YES. 1,0000000000 times thankful. Adoption is GREAT. Parents who adopt are Heroes in my eyes, because they chose to raise someone elses child. They don't have to, but they do. My parents, did that twice. My sister, Nancy, and I are forever grateful. I know I speak for both of us when I say, we love them with every feeling we have.
Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Halverson for raising us. Thank you for instilling the desire to know the truth and bring honesty to others. It is through this teaching that I began my search to find my birth mom.
Fast Forward to 2023. When I found out that under Pinochet's ruling in Chile, several thousands of babies were taken from their parents either by force or by other means. These babies were born between the years of 1970 through 1990. I was born in 1988.
Was I stolen? Was my birth mother forced? Does she know I still exist?
Those three questions are what drove me like a wildfire and brought me to this week. Tuesday. Where I heard words over the phone, "According to this, you have never left Chile. "
*gasp* oh. mah. gosh.
What happened?!? Why?
-Stolen Honey
Ana-Maria (Rocio Carolina)
Oh man... what a cliffhanger! I can't wait for the next chapter!
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