As soon as the plane landed in Costa Rica, I became overwhelmed with emotion.
The heat on my skin made my eyes well with tears. The rustle of the trees waving in the wind simultaneously soothed and heightened my nervous system. As I handed my passport to the woman at customs, she casually started speaking in Spanish to me.
I apologized.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish”
She looked up in confusion, and looked back at my passport.
“Paraguay?” she replied, referring to my place of birth.
I don’t remember exactly what I said, it was probably more awkward apologizing, but I remember exactly how I felt.
Shame.
Like a disappointment.
I wish I could have disappeared, or better yet,
I wish I could have spoken Spanish back to her.
This moment has happened throughout my life and I have always felt the same way.
Women have spoken Spanish to me at the grocery store, asking for help.
Men have asked for directions in my neighborhood.
It just happened now, as I was walking my dog before sitting down to write this blog.
Hablo espanol?
No, I’m sorry
And that same feeling of shame and smallness.
Logically, there’s no need to feel shame, of course. I grew up in an English speaking home and school. I took my 3 years of required Spanish in high school. And there’s an easy solution to this dilemma, right? Learn Spanish. But just like adoption itself – it’s more complex than just learning a new language.
There’s a sense of loss tied to learning Spanish, and I think I feel shame and disappointment because I am being recognized as someone I simultaneously am and am not.
I imagine I am being recognized as Latina in these moments.
And as a Paraguayan adoptee – I am.
And also as a Paraguayan adoptee, I feel like I’m not.
I know I’m not alone when I say I feel the weight of a culture, a language, and a country lost as an international adoptee. In my own experience, there is very little Paraguayan representation in the United States – I search for it and often come up empty handed. In the past, this is something I’ve brushed off – as a way to not really feel my disappointment. But now, I am actively working to reclaim this part of myself as best as I can.
This reclamation is something that requires effort. It’s claiming a new identity that has been mine all along, but was never really acknowledged at home, at school or in my community growing up. It’s rewiring my own belief system around my identity – it’s rewiring that shame and smallness I feel when someone speaks Spanish to me or when I am recognized as Latina by others.
It’s turning Imposter Syndrome to Empowerment.
It’s reminding myself that I am being recognized not as something I’m not –
but as something I am.
It’s learning to make peace with living in the the in-between space,
That space of belonging and not,
That I know so many adoptees know intimately.
It’s coming back to my own heart,
And reminding myself that I have the power to identify as I choose,
And that identity ebbs and flows.
It’s reminding myself that I am strong and capable enough to do this work Now,
And that Now is the perfect time to do it.
When I was sharing my struggle to claim my Latinx identity – I was asked,
Is it not enough to know that you just are?
And I’ve learned that for me – no, it’s not.
Reclamation is a verb – not a noun.
As I was on an evening walk at a park by my house, two mothers were watching their children play. They were laughing, and as I walked by, they smiled and said something to me in Spanish. I smiled back and continued on my walk – as I felt that familiar tightness in my belly. The same familiar thoughts of shame and smallness came, but I paused to take a deep inhale and exhale – and shift my thoughts.
They recognized me for all that I am.
I am Latina.
I am Paraguayan.
I am an Adoptee.
I am Enough.
Inhale. Exhale. Repeat as needed.
And that was a win.
Reclaiming my Paraguayan identity is not the easiest path to be on – but I am grateful to be on it and wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s celebrating myself and all that I am – and I think we can all benefit from that kind of work.
Don’t you?
WRITTEN BY KRISTIN GARAFFO: Kristen is a Paraguayan adoptee who lives outside of Washington DC. Writing about her adoptee experience has been tremendously healing – she has written a one-woman show about her life as a performer and adoptee and continues to write and explore today. She wants to thank Hannah Matthews at @_heytra for her Identity Reclamation Coaching – she wouldn’t have been able to write this blog without Hannah’s program and support. You can connect with Kristen on Instagram @KristenGaraffo – she sprinkles her adoptee experience throughout her usual Home blog content, as well as self-care and mindfulness.
