These are the gifts my parents gave me: Unconditional love. Validation of my existence. Unequivocal inclusion into their lives, hearts, and ancestry. Their heritage was my heritage. My slobber was their slobber. It was never denying, though. You can’t really hide the fact that a white dude and Latina lady can’t make a Korean pop out. I always knew I was adopted, and I always knew I was Korean. But they made me feel pretty, and normal.
The rest of the story here.
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