You look at your reflection in the mirror. Your face tells a story of the generations that came before you. A familiar smile, or a shared eye colour, a resemblance that has probably been pointed out more than once. For most, such observations are brushed off with a smile and quickly forgotten. But what if your reflection raised more questions than answers?
This is a reality many adoptees face. Yet, adoption is often discussed through the perspectives of parents, social workers, and legal systems rather than those who live it. In The Lived Experience of Being an Adoptee, Prof. Michael Galea and Cristina Said Cassar turn the spotlight onto adoptees themselves, challenging familiar narratives about adoption and revealing a far more complex story of identity, belonging, loss, and resilience.
The Myth of the Happy Ending
Popular portrayals of adoption tend to focus on prospective parents and lengthy procedures, with the grand finale being the moment a child joins a new family. From fiction to factual television programmes, adoption is often presented as the resolution of a turbulent story. The adoptee becomes ‘the chosen one’, rescued from hardship and given a better life. Far less attention is given to what comes afterwards. A neat and happy conclusion is deeply embedded in popular culture.
Such narratives can flatten a far more complex reality. Adoption may bring love, stability, and opportunity, but it can also involve separation, grief, unanswered questions, and the difficult task of reconciling multiple identities. As professor and clinical psychologist Michael Galea suggests, adoption does not end with the signing of paperwork, but it marks the beginning of a lifelong process for the adoptee to understand who they are and where they belong.
This is not to suggest that adoption itself is easy. Rather, the issue lies in the assumption that its challenges disappear once the legal process is complete.
Searching for the Story
For many adoptees, questions of identity eventually lead to questions of origin. Curiosity about where they come from can grow into a desire to learn more about their biological family, and better understand their own story. Yet, this search is rarely straightforward. For some adoptees, the challenge is not only asking Who am I? but also How do I tell the people who raised me that I want to know more about where I came from? Galea explained that adoptees may worry that expressing a desire to learn about their roots could be misinterpreted as rejection or abandonment by their adoptive parents. In reality, the search for biological origins is often less about replacing one family with another and more about understanding one’s own story.
However, the study’s findings suggest that searching for answers does not always bring the closure adoptees hope for. One adoptee, Abigail, reflected that after meeting her biological family, ‘it still didn’t fill that void… so [she thinks] it will remain there. But [she is] aware of it.’ Her experience highlights an important distinction: understanding one’s story and making peace with it are not always the same thing.
‘Chosen’ Carries Consequences
Several participants described feeling both fortunate and chosen, while also grappling with questions of loss and belonging. Leah reflected, ‘It’s lucky… I got a second chance for life.’ Nevertheless, gratitude does not always erase grief. Galea commented on feelings akin to survivor’s guilt, particularly among adoptees who had siblings or close companions from whom they had been separated. Knowing they had been chosen while others were left behind often raised difficult questions about why they had been afforded opportunities that others had not, accompanied by a lingering sense of responsibility towards those left behind.
Making sense of such emotions is no easy task, especially for a child. Many participants described an inescapable sense of a void, a feeling that something was missing from their lives. Understanding these feelings, and understanding themselves, often took years. Acceptance was not automatic. As Rebecca examined, ‘I just sort of grew into it, accepting it.’
This is what some professionals describe as a sort of gratitude debt: the societal expectation that adoptees should feel constantly thankful for having been adopted. While gratitude may indeed be present, it can overlap with sadness, anger, confusion, and loss. When such emotions are perceived as incompatible with being ‘lucky’, adoptees may feel pressured to suppress them, carrying guilt for feelings they have been led to believe they should not have.
Additionally, stigma is often compounded by the burden of being seen as different. Children absorb second-hand stigma from adults and reproduce it, even as they scarcely understand its origins. Some participants concealed their adoption after experiencing bullying or rejection. Ella recalled being ridiculed during an argument and deciding that ‘from that day onwards, no one ever knew.’ Such experiences reveal how stigma can shape the way adoptees speak about themselves. For some, adoption became something that always needs explaining and for others, something to bury.
Larger than the Label
One of the clearest messages from both the study and Galea’s reflections is that there is no single adoptee experience. ‘Adoptee’ is an umbrella term, but it risks obscuring the person behind it. Every adoptee carries a different history, shaped by their early experiences, relationships, and circumstances. Some enter adoption with strong attachments and support networks, while others arrive with experiences of instability or neglect. A single narrative cannot encapsulate their journeys.
Despite their different circumstances, all participants shared one striking characteristic – resilience. Rebecca, for instance, reflected that she had ‘found a lot of strength alone’, proving the determination many adoptees drew upon when making sense of their experiences. Galea emphasised that individual experiences are shaped by a range of factors, including early attachments, the quality of care received before adoption, family support, and the wider social environment. The study ultimately reinforces a simple but important point: adoptees are individuals first.
Past the Paperwork
Adoption in Malta has evolved significantly in recent years, Galea notes, with international adoption becoming less common and greater emphasis being placed on what happens after the adoption itself. Increasingly, adoption is being recognised not as a single event, but as a lifelong process that may raise new questions and challenges at different stages of a person’s life.
As a result, post-adoption support is no longer viewed as an optional extra. Modern adoption practices recognise these questions of identity, belonging, and origin that may emerge years after an adoption is finalised. Adoptive parents are now expected to preserve photographs, documents, and mementoes from a child’s country or institution of origin. These keepsakes can later become valuable links to a past that might otherwise feel distant, helping adoptees reconnect with parts of their personal history, should they choose to explore them.
This shift reflects a broader change in how adoption is understood. While challenges remain, Galea maintains hope that greater awareness and stronger support systems will continue to challenge misconceptions and create a more supportive environment for adoptees and their families.
We all search for pieces of ourselves in one way or another. Our inherited narratives feel so familiar and unquestioned that we seldom recognise their influence. For adoptees, those questions cannot be taken for granted. The next time you look in the mirror, consider not only the stories you recognise, but also those that have quietly shaped the way you see yourself.
*All names used in this article are pseudonyms adopted from the original study, where participants’ identities were anonymised.
Angelina Bilocca is a student with UM’s Department of English. This article was prepared in partial fulfilment of Creative Writing 2 under the supervision of Dr Aaron Aquilina.
Further Reading
Galea, M. & Said Cassar, C. (2023). The lived experience of being an adoptee. Humanities and Social Science Research, 6 (2), 1–10. https://doi.org/10.30560/hssr.v6n2p1
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