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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have to stop turning ourselves into victims.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is Korea still sending children for adoption abroad?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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