It’s always important to recognize that I’m only one of many that have gone through the adoption process and so with that being said, I’m aware that not all adoptees have had the same experiences as me. But I do hope some of you can agree or resonate with some of the stigmas I’ve encountered because I am in fact adopted.

I want to shed some light on some of the adoption stigmas that have continued to nag at the corners of my brain and make me question the society that we live in. Whether it be from ignorance or lack of acceptance I can’t tell you, but within an always growing world, the reputation adoption has taken up is disappointedly stagnant.

Here is a list of reoccurring stigmas that I have come to recognize and I can only hope to impress a new image on adoptees like myself.

The appropriate response to someone telling you they are adopted is not, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to hush the words, “I’m adopted.” Not at all because I’m ashamed, but because of this terrible response that I have so often been given. My question to all those who have said these exact words to me, “What exactly are you sorry for?” What about adoption screams that I need your apology or sympathy? With our society accepting so many beautiful definitions of family, adoption seems to be trailing behind. I’m not sure if the stereotype of the young child waiting patiently for someone to want him or her in foster care as every other child is getting adopted has molded perception of the adoption process, but it’s 2017. Let’s wake up and understand that stereotypes do not define or limit us. If you simply have a lack of understanding or knowledge on adoption, have the courage to ask questions! Never diminish one’s life experiences and always be willing to create an accurate perception with curiosity, instead of accepting the stereotype with delusion.

Yes, I know my family and I do not look alike.

Yes, hello, my skin is a different color than my mother's. Yes, I know that my brother is a six-foot giant white male and I am a tiny, short latina. Yes, I know (and I'm thankful) I don't have the same nose every single girl has on my dad's side.

This, of course, is circumstantial but is by far one of society’s most obvious ways of showing discomfort with adoption families. I cannot tell you how many times I have been walking in the grocery store with my mom and someone would ask her if she was my caretaker or who’s daughter I was. My brother would pick me up after school and the teachers would have to double take and make sure that he was in fact the person who was supposed to pick me up. He’s also a fourth-grade teacher and when parents see a white male on the first day of school after seeing that his name is “Mr. Perez,” they have a second of confusion. I’m not saying that all of these observations are not understandable, but must every single person have to be so obviously shocked? It was so hard for me as a little girl meeting all of my friend’s parent’s and seeing how undeniably similar my peers looked in comparison to their parents. I was the oddball and it should not have taken me so long to know that it was one hundred percent okay to be. When seeing a mixed race family or maybe just a clear example of a family that has gone through the adoption process, don’t stare. We were all born different and have continuously accepted the individuality that exists in our undeniably changing world. No one should feel uncomfortable or look down upon the unique qualities love brings to the table. Embrace different.

“Do you know your REAL parents?”

Define real for me because the way I see it, somewhere along the lines, the replacement word for biological has become “real.” I can’t begin to tell you how VERY wrong this is. I’ve learned to answer this question with, “Yes,” every single time. I do know my REAL parents; the people who raised me, financially supported me, wiped away every tear, scolded me for all my troublemaker tendencies and loved me unconditionally. That is my definition of a real parent. Biology does not create a parent’s will to want the absolute best for their child. I don’t disregard the clear difference between biological and adoptive parents, but to dismiss the reality of the role of the adoptive parents is awful. Whether it be an open or closed adoption process, both sets of parents serve different roles, but the difference should not lie with the incorrect descriptor, real. Thank you for all that you do, parents who chose to adopt. You are so very much REAL. To those who chose to put their biological child up for adoption, regardless of the circumstance, thank you for making an impossible decision, you are very much so REAL.

Where is the “I’m adopted” or “Unknown,” checkbox?

Throughout my past three years in college, I’ve had multiple encounters in medical offices where I’ve sadly had to accept I’m now an adult and my mother can no longer fill out all the paperwork for me. On top of being a stubborn child at heart who would rather not be “adulting,” I was shocked to see the lack of recognition our society still has for the adoption process. Every doctor’s office always hands me a long questionnaire about my medical history asking whether cancer, diabetes, depression, etc. runs in my family. Those who have an open adoption process may know the answer to these questions, but with me, I have absolutely no idea. I always spend a minute blankly staring at these questions and wonder what to do. Am I suppose to have to explain or write out that I’m adopted? Why is it not socially accepted that I just don’t know? I’m still waiting for a form that gives me the option of “Unknown,” or even better, “Adopted,” checkbox to avoid the discouragement I start to feel. So the next time my fellow adoptees are wondering about their biological backgrounds, why don’t you just write I’M ADOPTED in the most obnoxious lettering across that questionnaire you didn’t want to fill out anyway?

Blood isn’t always thicker than water.

My favorite popular quote to undeniably resist is, “blood is thicker than water.” I don’t know anyone who shares the same blood as me, but that hasn’t seemed to change a thing. My mom is still the person who I’ve shared a stronger connection with than anyone else in the whole entire world. My dad is still the man that has shown me the type of love I want to find in my own marriage one day. My brother is still the greatest gift adoption brought to me. Blood has never defined my love for my family. Family is created with our love. I’ve never felt something more special in my entire life. It’s not truly something I can explain and I can’t speak for everyone who has been touched by the adoption system, but nothing is more extraordinary than choosing to love and making a family by choice.

To conclude this article, the very most important message of this article: Choose to embrace the different.

As we begin another year, I can only hope that our world continues to grow and release the stigmas and stereotypes that have hurt so many people. Choose to embrace what you may not understand, love the unique, and fight for change.