Day 22: What is the luckiest thing that has ever happened to you?

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.