People talk about adoption like it’s always a blessing, gift, or miracle. They say, “You’re so lucky you were chosen.” But the truth is, kids aren’t always chosen out of love. Sometimes, we’re chosen for all the wrong reasons.
The woman on 169th Street was smart, educated, and manipulative. She knew how to work people and how to control the story others believed about her. On Sundays, she dressed the part: church attire, Bible in hand, smiling like she was the perfect Christian woman. People looked at her and thought, “She’s good. She’s kind. She’s giving children a home.”
But I knew better.
She didn’t adopt me because she wanted me. She adopted me because it made her look good. She adopted me because in the church, in her family, and in the community, she could wear the title of “rescuer.” That was her game, proving herself to others and to her family that she was someone that had “made it” in life.
And she wasn’t alone. I’ve been in too many houses where the same story played out. I’ve seen it with families who went to church every Sunday, raised their hands to pray, and called themselves Christians. But behind closed doors, they were cruel. They were cold. They did unspeakable things no child should ever have to go through.
Through my failed adoption, I have met others just like me, kids adopted from Bulgaria who went through the exact same thing. Their adoptive parents put on the same act, wore the same mask, and used the same excuses. In public, they were a “good Christian family.” But at home, behind closed doors, they treated those children just as badly as I was treated. Our stories may be different in detail, but the pattern is the same.
The truth is, being Christian doesn’t mean anything if your actions don’t match your words. Too many times, I saw people preach about love in church and then walk into their homes and destroy it. They used God’s name as a shield and as a mask, but their hearts were empty. The woman on 169th Street could never love me. She couldn’t love any human being. She loved her dogs because they never asked questions and never exposed her lies. She couldn’t make people love her, so she surrounded herself with creatures who would never see her darkness. But I saw it. I lived it, and I know I’m not the only one.
Adoption didn’t save me. Church didn’t save me. God didn’t save me. I saved myself. And I will never stop telling the truth — people don’t always adopt to give children a better life. Sometimes, they adopt to feed their egos, collect checks, polish their image, or wear the mask of a “good Christian.” But I know what happens behind those closed doors. I survived it, and I’ll never stay silent again.
