You captured my adoptive mother perfectly. She told me about the world. Read to me. Spent hours helping me with reading, math, spelling, and report writing. I loved her for this. But hatred her for not protecting me from her husband, my adoptive father. I've also been writing what it's like to grow up adopted on Medium.

You made me think. Made me cry. Thank you for helping me understand my own adoption just a little bit better. Thank you so much for writing and posting this piece.

I write this sitting in bed, remembering captivity. It was Saturday, and I’d slept in. “We’ll have peaches and cottage cheese tonight, Teddy.” This at breakfast. Mom liked to start the day on a happy note. I appreciated her intent and the moments we shared. Dad was mowing the lawn…

Couldn’t exist sanely with things as they were. Couldn’t stand the pain. Not knowing another way, I braced myself and prepared to run. Home from Easter service, I leap out of the car and open the garage door in a rush. Then into a desperate dash for my room and…

He threw the first plate, and it hit the floor, exploding like a shotgun blast. Fear shot through my chest, and I froze. *** Over my fifty-plus-year career, I’ve worked as an employee, manager, and owner. I’ve been an illustrator, designer, salesman, strategist, and marketer. And I’ve managed others in…

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