Our personal story is the greatest gift we can receive, and it begins with our family. Regardless of the circumstances we are born into, we hold the pen to write our own narrative.
My story began in Romania in 1987, in an unusual and challenging way. I was not born into a warm cradle; the first years of my life were spent in extreme poverty and homelessness. Romania, at that time, was under the oppressive dictatorship of Nicolae Ceaușescu, a regime that plunged the country into fear and deprivation. The dictatorship sought to strip away the humanity of its citizens, reducing them to mere instruments of control.
Our biological mother became a victim of this cruel system, cast out because she didn’t conform to its "rules." She found herself alone, with two young children, homeless and without support, in a country teetering on the edge of civil collapse. For three years, she fought valiantly for our survival. The conditions were so dire that survival itself was uncertain.
And yet, fate intervened. By an incredible turn of events, our adoptive parents entered our lives. Our mother was faced with the most heartbreaking decision of her life: to keep us by her side, risking our survival, or to give us the chance for a better life away from her. After much soul-searching, her heart made the ultimate sacrifice. She chose to entrust us to a family who could offer us safety, happiness, and the future she could not. Though every fiber of her Being resisted being separated from us, she knew, deep down, that our well-being was more important than holding onto us in an increasingly bleak situation.
This decision weighed heavily on her, and it saddened her for the rest of her life. No mother willingly parts with her children, but what mother doesn’t also wish for the best for them? There was a part of her that knew this was the right choice, even if it was the hardest one to make. And so, we came into a loving family, where we were able to continue writing our story.
We were always aware of our adoption, and since childhood, I’ve often thought of her. I have always understood the immense act of love behind her decision. This story became the foundation for my own, motivating me and shaping the course of my life.
I knew that the only gift I could give in return for her sacrifice was to make her proud, to become a good person and live by values like kindness, generosity, and love that the very values my adoptive family exemplified so beautifully.
Twenty years later, I had the privilege of meeting her. It was an indescribably emotional and loving moment, one that remains etched in my memory. Above all, I wanted to say, “Thank you.”
People often ask me, “Do you resent your biological parents?” The truth is, I’ve never harbored any resentment. Even though I didn’t grow up with them, I’ve always loved them. Our birth mother didn’t abandon us, she entrusted us with a future, a better chance at life. And in doing so, she made the best decision possible under the circumstances.
As for our biological father, it’s true we could have harbored bitterness toward him. But how can we judge someone without fully understanding their story? Romania was in a state of disaster at the time, and living in "survival mode" can lead people to act against their true nature, making choices that distance them from their authentic selves. I had the opportunity to meet him too, and I can say that I encountered a beautiful person. His circumstances, like those of many others, were shaped by a difficult, tragic time.
No two stories are the same, just as no two people are identical. The difference lies in how we choose to tell our story, in how our experiences lead us back to our true selves, and in the lessons we carry forward.
Ajouter un commentaire
Commentaires