I hope this is not extremely lazy, but I came up with a good post on lucky, and I'm going to cross post what I wrote on my other blog...
I think luck is dumb. There is no such thing as “LUCK”
I thought I would use this opportunity to say, stop telling us
adoptees we are lucky. Lucky to have been born, lucky to be alive, lucky
to not be on the bottom of the abortionists bucket, lucky to have been
ripped from our drug addict of a mother’s arms, lucky, so we could lead
lucky productive lives, filled with joy and gratitude that we were given
so much and for that we should be eternally grateful, lucky to not have
been handed over to dysfunction, lucky to not know, lucky just like
Aunt Betty’s nephew who thinks his adopters are his real parents, after
all, he never wanted to know, now isn’t he freaking lucky. Lucky bastard. After all, he has a Masters degree.
It makes me angry when people say this. It’s like they have to say
it to us, out-loud, to ensure that we know, how they think we need to
feel about it. To say anything else would rock their world. It might
cause them to think.
Let me dispel myth for you, being adopted WAS NOT the luckiest thing
that ever happened to me. No sir. I am not lucky, grateful, chosen or
special. No more than anybody else in this world. Luck had nothing to
do with it.
I am not a better person than I would have been had I been kept. I’m
a more fractured person. Who is that ghost inside me? Who is that
child that could have been? What could she have done? Where is that
woman? Would SHE have been lucky? I guess it’s kind of a rhetorical question.
Stop telling me the worst thing that ever happened to me, was the luckiest thing.
Seriously, stop it, I dare you to even stop thinking it.