My “Real” parents are my Mom and my Dad. The people who raised me. Who named me. Who fed and bathed and clothed and put up with me through my horrid teenager years. My real parents are Chris and Joanne, my mom and my dad.
My “Biological” parents are the people who I am related to through DNA. Kim…
I know that all adoptees feel this way but it is the way I feel. I get really upset when people ask me, don’t you wish you knew who your mom and dad are. Um, hello, I know them. I can tap on Mom or Dad in my cell phone and guess what happens, it rings their cellphones.
For me my other “favorite” question is, where are you from, because well I am not white. The funny thing is that more non-white people ask me this question. I always tell them, oh I’m from here. They look at me and then go, where are your parents from? Me: Connecticut. More blinking, what about their ancestors. Me: Um, well Italy, Germany, and then a bit of every other European country. More blinking.
I always want to tell them, the real question you are looking for is, what is your ethnicity. But I am mean and just like to leave them going, how does this dark haired, dark eyed, and olive-tan skinned girl come from Italy, Germany, and a bit of every where else.
It’s pretty funny to watch, oh and sad of course. Racial profiling, it isn’s jut something people in Arizona do.