The Power And Purpose Of Sharing Our Stories.

Okay well, in retrospect, the bottle of pills, the tablets of Tylenol poured out on the yellow formica kitchen table, swallowed slowly, methodically, one by one, was a little misguided. 16. So young, empty, so afraid. I wish I had words back then, that cold January day so long ago when I wanted to die.

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Don’t Make Us Choose. A Missive To Adoptive Parents.

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Every Adoptee Deserves Their Original Birth Certificate.