Yes, I'm one of the lucky few that gets to work on a Sunday night. But wait for it...the best bit is, I also get to work right through until Monday morning at 6. Can you imagine that? A whole 12-hour night shift. On a Sunday, what a treat!

Her Book 'Adoption Trauma' was the first book that I listened to on audible about issues through adoption and it made my jaw drop. 

Em isn't adopted but has experienced firsthand what it's like to be with an adoptee, Me. Em gets it, I mean really gets it! she gets me, and that is incredible.

From my perspective, it seems that no matter how our adoptee lives started, or how they continued, Most of us appear to end up in the same ‘fog’, with very similar issues.

Trauma-Informed, Hope Obsessed

Back in 2005, I was asked to comment on my adoption by a journalist from ‘The Daily Telegraph’. Being the media whore I obviously was, I agreed.

‘The Annual Gnaw’

I was of course one of the babies whose mothers were forced to give them up in the 1960s because they were unmarried.

Although I can fully understand why adoptees have a need to connect with their birth parents, I don't feel that need.

With that in mind, I have created a group, just for men. No, not in a 'hair dye' kind of way!

“Yes, 'People pleasing' , what's wrong with that, thats a good thing, right?” I hear you say.

Adoption trauma manifests itself in lots of ways it would seem. From the obvious emotional stuff like anxiety and depression to the less obvious social quirks like refusing to do something fun because it wasn't the adoptee's idea.

'Who's Wally?' is now on Facebook. With a new logo too! 

Jumping forward to 2012 now and a Facebook message that took me completely by surprise said …

“Well, “ she said, “Your birth Mum”. Mistaking this for a question I said “Yes please my birth Mother…..” as I tried to continue, she cut me off mid-sentence

Finally after six months of letter writing; meetings, phone calls, plenty of application forms, some pretty extensive red tape, and of course the waiting, I had done it! Now what?...

In the folder, at the back, I stored about 30 sheets of notepaper. Only the first sheet had any notes on it. I snapped the rings open and removed them for recycling, but something stopped me.

May 1999 and news that my application for gaining access to my adoption records had been processed

I wrote this while I was drunk the other night. I was just about to turn in and I was going around the house locking up and switching off when all of a sudden I had an urge to write.

Just a couple of months old when I was transferred to my ‘forever family’, key sections of first-hand information are missing, from my parent's memories of me as a baby in those first few weeks.