She gave me a ring she was wearing and said, “We have the same hands.”

We always felt we were Danish children, with Danish values and norms.

I enjoy traveling. When you travel, you’re not supposed to belong.

I grew up feeling like a Martian who had arrived from outer space.

Yeah, I’m black and Korean. But first and foremost, I’m black.

Mild curiosity grew into a need to connect with adoptees and Korean-Americans.

I learned that I was incredibly lucky to have grown up in Denmark.

I got married after my husband promised me he’d never mention my past.

In the Holt records, it says that I was left on the doorstep of a man’s house.

It made me embarrassed, that I had to explain my existence to other people.

I miss Korea and my birth family. It’s a sadness that I carry with me.

I think that’s why God gave me my daughter, so I wouldn't be alone.

I’ve been homeless 15 times, from 1987 to the present—5 years in NYC.

If I were to be given another life, I would want to receive parental love.

He puts his little hand on my face. “Momma, we have the same eyes.”

My adoptive parents are Korean. I grew up speaking Korean.

When I married, I hid my history. Afterwards, the truth became known.

After that, I kind of realized…okay, I’m a child born of rape.

I’m grateful, truly, to be alive today. That’s why I tell my story.

As a child, I often dreamt about what I saw the night I was abandoned.

I have chosen to see adoption as a part of my life, not the driver.

I remember walking down a dirt road in Korea, and crying.

As of today, I do not know who is telling the truth, and who is not.

Maybe even more as an adoptee, I’m afraid of losing my parents.

I don’t remember much, except the crying—all those unhappy children.

The email said, “We found your mother. You have to come to Korea now.”

I don't talk much about growing up in an orphanage—my darkest moment.

I didn’t get the answers I wished for, but I am more at peace with that.

I was in the orphanage for the undesirable children. I was not adoptable.

A feeling of detachment, and an inability to connect with anybody.

I didn’t have problems during childhood. I am who I am, Dutch Korean.

I have both my birth family and my adoptive family, and I love them both.

My teacher told the class, “This is her last day. She’s going to America.”

We have to stop turning ourselves into victims.

My mother thinks that I’m happy all the time, not how I have struggled.

I remember looking in the mirror, trying to see what made me a target.

I sold hard taffy, physical labor. Those jobs were my ticket to survival.

I was 7 and a half when I was adopted. I was told that I had two sisters.

What if I find out something I don't want to know? That scares me.

I was born to have an identity complex, being adopted and transgendered.

Why is Korea still sending children for adoption abroad?

It was an unspeakable act. I wanted to forget it. But I couldn’t.

I remember, vividly, the morning my mother gave us up. She was crying.

I want to be as good a parent as my mom was for me. I’ll try my hardest.

I never really discussed racism with my parents. I didn't want to relive it.

My mom’s comment to me was, “You should be dating your own kind.”

My husband and I are both Korean. Our son inherits our Korean heritage.

I am a man who should have died a long time ago, but I have a family now.

I’ll embrace the sorrow I still feel, and one day I will heal and forgive.

All of a sudden, I saw real Koreans, who weren’t speaking Danish.

My facility experience has made me tough. I don’t cry over small things.

My adoptive parents are Korean. I found out I was adopted 3 years ago.

Our extended relatives made it clear. My sister and I were “add-ons.”

It’s important for me to share, to encourage others who’ve been victims.

People say my happy appearance is impressive, given my childhood.

If I wasn’t adopted, I’d be working a rice field. I’m not really an outdoor guy.

What I’ve learned through my faith in the Lord, is that it happened for a reason.

Because I’ve chosen to become a single mother, I think about my birth mother a lot.

Korea never left me. Korea is inside of me. I eat, breathe, and live Korea.

Five Korean adoptees getting together, then 12, 15, 20, hundreds.

My earliest memories are of living in one room with my birth mother.

My mother simply asked me, “Would you like to go to America?”

Mixed-race kids were seen as human refuse, a scourge on their culture.

I see a lot of Chinese babies who are adopted. We kind of blazed a trail.

I feel my friends hold the concept of finding birth parents closer than I do.

I don’t know how to put it into words. I wish I could live like everyone else.

I did 23andMe. My second cousin on my birth father's side contacted me.

My birth mother has remarried, and her husband can’t know that I exist.

In Korea, I can feel the way people look at me, and I lose confidence.

God, why am I here? Why did you put me in this household?

When I walk into a room, do people look at me and say, there’s the Asian girl?

My college essay was called “My Lucky Number”— my case number, K90821.

My biological father is standing there, leaning over a motorcycle.

Would I have been better off in Korea? I think the answer is always, no.

It’s not a job, but getting married that’s a challenge.

What I had been looking for in my birth mom, I found when my son was born.

It took my birth father 35 years of searching. He finally found me 3 years ago.

There’s no information about me, my birth, my family in Korea. Nothing.

It was like opening Pandora’s Box, this piece of paper in my hands.

I did a total 180 from not hanging out with Asians, making up for lost time.

I’m most likely a foundling, left near a police station.

My adopting father told me he met my mother, and he negotiated with her.

I meet facility alumni. Some are successful, some have gone astray.

My biological parents wanted us to be together with a Christian family.

That pain never goes away. I take my pain, and I put anger over it.

Adoption includes the first family. The child did not appear from nowhere.

I was the baby—the first choice to give up for adoption. I understand that.

An immigrant family that was unwilling to give up on an abandoned orphan.

For the first time, I saw other adoptees who looked a bit like me.

There’s a different layer on life when someone chooses you.

It’s good to feel like you can acknowledge the complexities around adoption.

My oldest son got me a DNA test, and it stated I’m 100% Japanese.

My adoptive parents loved me so much, before they even had me.

It wasn't until college that I started to sort out my multiple identities.

I learned how to pronounce my Korean name, and realized that it’s beautiful.

The woman on the phone says, “We think we found your mother.”

When I met my birth mom, it wasn't under the best circumstances.

Learning Korean really made me the most in touch with being Korean.

My mom told me herself that I was born on the floor at home.

I ask myself a lot of questions about my ability to be a mother.