Holding Her Hand

My friend had taken my hand so she wouldn’t lose me. This was what being over fifty years old was turning out to look like: love and acceptance and the surprise of how close to death we all are along with the mutual surprise of how strong we all are. 

Touching Obama's Hair

When you are young, feeling different isn’t always the straightest route to personal empowerment. Acknowledgement of difference is something that comes with age. You don’t leap off the diving board before you feel safe in the water. Generally, you need to feel grounded in your self and your family before you can leap off into the world of I am different. Look at me

Writing, Yoga, Friendship and Empowerment

By the time I left, Christina and I had bonded. I became her writing coach, and she would come down to my room and we would sit knee to knee and get her to clarity on the page. It was wonderful to work with someone who was both shockingly intelligent and so grounded in her heart and courage. I wanted to be more like her: a fiercely bright and loving student of myself, my family, my community, and my world. 

Dating Babies

I wonder if when Baby Z misbehaves, I’ll look at her and secretly wish I had swiped left. There were so many other children I could have chosen. I wonder if I’ll stay up at night and look at my phone, swiping, thinking about what could have been when Baby Z is acting like a…like a…like a child. 

Tell Your Story and Kill the Dinosaur

I have had more than one person ask if I was bipolar. Granted, the three people who asked were bipolar themselves, and I always said no, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel bipolar, whatever that felt like, just as, when therapists suggested I take antidepressants I thought they were missing the mark. I didn’t feel depressed. I felt…wrong.

After Watching Steve Jobs

When blood relatives turn their backs on adoptees, it’s often a knife in the part of the brain where the adoptee stores self-worth. Why would I want to exist if the very people who made me either deny my existence or don’t care enough about me to meet? It’s not rocket science, and yet it’s a point a lot of people seem to miss. 

I Have a Dream

So, It's Martin Luther King Jr Day, and I’m not adopted anymore. 

I know. It just happened. It’s so crazy. I go and write a memoir about being adopted and make it my life’s work to talk about how adoption affects people, and then I go and discover my adoption’s not real.

Robbing Banks

I would dress up to rob the bank. I’d be tempted to go jeans and slouch, but in the end I think I would go for the style of Bonnie and Clyde. I might even wear heels. That certainly would be a disguise! I would want to dress up to celebrate my own hubris.

After Write or Die

When people find their voice on paper, it’s as if they were living at last in their eyes. In a New York Times article, Erin Meyer wrote about discovering during a business trip to Japan the way to read whether someone in a group wanted to speak was not if they raised their hands; it was to look in their eyes. The people with bright eyes had something they wanted to contribute. 

Fishing for Love

Sometimes the men liked to remind me there was a time two things weren’t allowed on boats: women and bananas. 

You can imagine what I often packed in my lunch bag.

I Hate Sylvia Plath

When I was in the office with Kate, talking about circling the drain, Kate said, “But drains go somewhere,” and suddenly I saw it: I could slip right down the drain and the long release of slide could be fun! What if the drain went straight to Paris, and suddenly, in the gutters of that magical city, out I popped?!