spoiler alert: it’s not always a happy ending

adoption is often framed as a win-win: a child gains a family & a family gets to grow

(cue the heartwarming music, the photo-ops, the happily-ever-after)

That’s the version people love to tell. It’s tidy. Palatable.
Something you can slap on a holiday card or bring up at a dinner party without making anyone uncomfortable.

But for many adoptees, that narrative doesn’t fit.
And honestly? Sometimes it feels like it erases the other parts altogether.

Here’s the truth: adoption begins with loss.

Even when the outcome is safe, stable, or even loving, the reality is— someone had to lose something for the adoption to happen.

A parent. A family. A whole history.
And that kind of loss doesn’t just fade away because the story “turned out good.”

That’s where the seven core issues of adoption come in. This framework helps name and validate the deeper emotional themes that show up for many adoptees (and often birth and adoptive families too).

These aren’t “problems to fix”—they’re the behind-the-scenes scenes that never make the final cut. The ones that get left on the editing room floor because they don’t fit the feel-good adoption storyline.

But these moments matter. They carry weight. And when we finally shine a light on them, we start to see the full picture—not just the highlight reel.

~LOSS~

Adoption begins with loss — a loss with multiple layers, each contributing to a deeper emotional experience that can be hard to navigate.

• the loss of birth parents, siblings, family

• the loss of status (adoption is different)

• the loss of genealogical continuity and biological connection

• the loss of racial, ethnic, and cultural heritage

• the loss of privacy, especially when adoption is conspicuous as in transracial family

• the loss of information about self and origins

By naming and acknowledging these different losses, we can better understand the profound impact adoption has on identity and emotional health.

~REJECTION~

At the heart of adoption is often a perception—or reality—of being rejected. Even when the reasons for relinquishment are complex, adoptees may internalize a message that they were unwanted or unworthy.

• “Why didn’t they want me?” and “What was wrong with me?” are questions that many adoptees carry quietly for years.

• The feeling of rejection isn’t just tied to birth parents—it can show up in relationships with peers, romantic partners, and even adoptive family members.

• Rejection isn’t always about direct experiences. It can also come from silence, secrecy, or microaggressions from others.

• Cultural stigma surrounding adoption can add to the weight, especially for adoptees who feel like they’re constantly being asked to prove their worth.

This sense of rejection lingers in the background, shaping self-esteem and trust in relationships. It’s not a sign of weakness—it’s a natural, human response to profound disconnection.

~GUILT/SHAME~

This one runs deep.

Guilt says “I did something wrong.”

Shame says “There’s something wrong with me.”

• Adoptees may feel shame simply for being adopted—like they’re different, defective, or didn’t measure up to their adoptive parents’ expectations.

• Some adoptees internalize the idea that they were somehow to blame for being separated from their birth families.

• Guilt can come from divided loyalties: loving adoptive parents but still wondering about birth parents, or feeling bad for wanting to search.

• There’s also guilt around things like talking about abuse or neglect, leaving behind siblings, or just wanting answers.

• Transracial adoptees may face shame that comes from feeling like they don’t fully belong in either culture—never quite enough for either side.

These emotions are rarely discussed openly, but they’re incredibly common—and heavy. Unpacking guilt and shame is a critical part of the healing process.

~GRIEF~

Grief in adoption is often invisible—unacknowledged by society and sometimes even by the adoptee themselves. But it’s there.

• It can show up as sadness, anger, confusion, or even numbness.

• Grief can be delayed, repressed, or expressed through acting out—especially in children and teens who don’t have the words for it yet.

• Many adoptees don’t get space to grieve because everyone around them is focused on the “happy ending.”

• Adaptive grief involves feeling, processing, and making meaning—and it’s an ongoing process, not a one-time event.

Grief in adoption isn’t about being ungrateful. It’s about recognizing what’s been lost and giving it the space it deserves.

~IDENTITY~

Adoptees often feel like they’re building their identity with pieces missing—or with someone else’s blueprint.

• Questions like “Who am I?”, “Where do I come from?”, and “Where do I fit?” are central to many adoptee narratives.

• Lack of information about family history, genetics, or cultural background can complicate identity formation.

• There can be a split between the person others see (on the outside) and how the adoptee feels inside.

• Some adoptees feel like they’re playing a role—being who they think they’re supposed to be in their adoptive family, while parts of them stay hidden.

Helping adoptees create a coherent narrative—one that includes complexity, contradiction, and truth—is key to identity work.

~INTIMACY/RELATIONSHIPS~

When your earliest experience of connection was disrupted, it makes sense that intimacy might feel... complicated.

• Many adoptees long for closeness but also fear it. This can lead to push-pull dynamics in relationships—"Come close, but not too close."

• The fear of being left again is real, even if it’s not always conscious.

• Some adoptees find it difficult to trust that relationships will last or that people won’t eventually leave.

• Adoptive parents might misinterpret this as rejection, but it’s often rooted in deep, early wounds that have nothing to do with the present.

Understanding this dynamic is critical in supporting adoptees through friendships, romantic relationships, and family connections.

~CONTROL~

Adoption can feel like the ultimate loss of control: someone else made a life-changing decision that shaped everything.

• For kids and teens, this lack of agency can feel overwhelming. That’s why some adoptees develop what’s sometimes called “survival behaviors”—acting out, shutting down, or trying to control whatever they can.

• Anger, defiance, perfectionism, or withdrawal aren’t random. They’re often strategies to protect themselves from vulnerability.

• Gaining a sense of mastery isn’t about being in charge of everything—it’s about feeling capable, safe, and like your voice matters.

Helping adoptees reclaim a sense of control and influence in their own lives is a powerful part of healing.

The narrative needs a rewrite

These seven core issues aren’t boxes to check or phases to outgrow—they’re themes that many adoptees revisit over time, especially during major life transitions. Think of them less like a to-do list and more like a map. A map that can help adoptees (and the people who love them) understand the terrain, spot the patterns, and not feel so lost when the emotional landscape gets rough.

The truth is, adoption is complex. It holds beauty and pain. Gain and loss. Joy and grief. And pretending it’s just a “happily ever after” story leaves a lot of people feeling like they missed the memo.

When we start to name what’s really going on beneath the surface—grief, shame, identity struggles, loyalty binds—we start to make space for healing. For connection. For truth.

Not every adoptee will resonate with every issue. But every adoptee deserves the chance to explore their story honestly—without pressure to feel a certain way, and without having to protect everyone else from the hard parts.

This framework doesn’t offer easy answers. But it does offer language. And sometimes, that’s where the real work starts.