I'm Adopted - How I Went from an Outsider to a Someone Who Mattered

When I tell people I have eighteen brothers and sisters, I always have to explain that I am adopted. Then people want to know what it was like growing up in such a large family. A lot of people think it would be fun having so many people to play with as a child. Unfortunately, it was probably fun for everyone in my family but me. This is my story of living as an outsider in my own family.

I was born in January 1983, three months premature. For the first year of my life I was subjected to being hooked up to a heart monitor and would momentarily stop breathing. It was a crucial time in my life but I made it. Nobody could have imagined what my life had in store for me, after I made it through the first year. From the time I was a young child, I had been subjected to years of abuse - physical, verbal, and sexual - all at the hands of my biological mother and her boyfriends. It was like I was living in a nightmare that would never end. Then one day, my whole life changed.

It was September 18, 1988 when my older sister and I were taken from our biological mother and placed with our adoptive family. It was a bittersweet day for me. I was being freed from the torment of my biological mother and placed in a loving home. Even after being placed into a new environment, my demons from my past still haunted me.

Having struggled to come to terms with the fact my biological mother did horrible things to me was enough to send me over the edge. I must have been living with my adoptive family for at least six months before the rages began. I would demonstrate acts of violence, such as breaking windows, kicking walls, and even attacking others around me. My adoptive parents tried counseling, which never worked, but they still kept trying. Eventually, they decided to go through with the process and adopt me, even though I exhibited such destructive behavior.