I found out I was adopted at age 10 when a classmate said I didn't look like my parents. My birth certificate had their names, but I found a photo of my (not pregnant) mom in Asia the day I was born. It made sense since I never felt like I fit in with them (or in the wider world). Realizing even the extended family's lies and omissions hurt—keeping up that collectivistic culture. I kept my secret from almost everyone until college. I found my birth mom on AIM and my birth dad a year later through an article online. Unfortunately, I didn't quite fit there either. I'm a bit like a Third Culture Kid, always the odd one out—human first, but everyone tries to fit me into their boxes. Mom was 19 when her mother pressured her to give me up for adoption—a combination of Catholic shame and varying skin tones. I was sad to hear that my mom and her father both wanted to keep me, but I was given up anyway. I was adopted. Trust is difficult, healing is ongoing, and identity is resilient.