Letter to my Birthmother

Dear birthmother, June 1999

This letter is dedicated to the wonderful woman who gave birth to me the 19th of April 1972. It is dedicated a birthmother with a heart of gold. No matter how much evil life had shown her, then she took against me with open arms and love.....

This letter is dedicated you birthmother. By that goes my love. You told me that you did not like to see yourself on pictures. But why? You are beautiful. Do you know what makes a person beautiful? It is the person’s ability to make other people smile and making them happy. When you held me and told that you love me my heart was filled with pride and happiness. When you stroke my hair I was happy. You have no idea how happy you have made a small person on the other side of the BIG BIG world. This is what makes you beautiful. Thanks to you. I love you.

Relax and enjoy this letter. Make yourself a cup of coffee and relax. Seeds from a silent tree........it begins to grow......

Once when I was little I saw a shooting star in the black night sky a cold December night in 1979. Everything was covered by fine white snow. I looked at my small hands and made a wish:

"Dear God, I whish to meet my birthmother, please let my dream come true!", I whispered. I could barely hear myself. Tears filled my eyes.

My adoptive mother held my hand that night. She knew what I was thinking. She knew of my feelings. She did not say anything. She did not have to. She was just there waiting for me to sleep. I remember I turned to face her and tears running from my eyes. She just smiled.

How many times did I wait for my Korean mother at kindergarten? It was very often. I sat nearby the window waiting for her instead of my adoptive mother. I imagined my Korean mother coming on a flying carpet picking me up and taking me with her back to Korea. I imagined her with long black hair; very similar to that of my own. I was interrupted in my thoughts of my adoptive mother’s gaze as she sat there on the edge of my bed.

"Do you think that my Korean mother will come here?", I asked silently. Then I looked away afraid if I had hurted my adoptive mother’s feelings. She just looked at me while she still smiled. Nothing had changed.

"No matter what, your Korean mother will always be there. You are a part of her. You probably look like her", she paused for a while and she stroke my long black hair.

"She is as beautiful as you are!", she finished.

When she had left my room I raised from my bed walking over to the big mirror in the corner of my chamber. I looked at myself in the mirror and imagined my birthmother standing on my side. I traced with a finger the lines on my face and smiled. The Hanbok, which my adoptive parents had bought me hang in the closet. I took it out and held it in front of myself. I dreamed about my life in Korea. I dreamed about walking down the streets with my birthmother. I felt her arms around me. I felt asleep in front of the mirror. My adoptive mother found me next morning laying on the floor dressed in my Hanbok.

During Christmas 1979 I thought very much of my Korean family. I told my adoptive parents that I denied going to school. I just wanted to go when I had got blue eyes and blond hair. I webt a lot. My adoptive parents were always there to support. My adoptive father had bought small Korean tales told to children at bed time. He knew I would love them. He read about a rabbit who wanted a place to live. A family took well against him but the rest of the small village hated him because he was different. He was poor and he did not look like them. He was sad and every evening he prayed to God about better times to come. The family lost everything because of him and he had to escape......the tale reminds me of my life as an adoptee. After Christmas my life continued as usual:

"You are ugly...you are not like us, go home!!", the other children mocked me and yelled at me. I was alone sitting in the shadow under a tree during summer. During winter I was sitting alone in the class room while the other children played. This time I was reading the tale about the poor rabbit again.

"You are all bugs", I thought. "I do not need you! I do not need you!"

While I was sitting for myself reading the book and avoiding the other children a boy stood suddenly in front of me. I looked up.

"What do you want?", I asked him.

He took my book and threw it to the floor. He pulled my hair. He beated me in my face as he had done so many times before. This time I had enough. I got on my feet and I turned around and kicked him. He felt to the floor and I continued kicking and beating at him. He screamed. The other children came over to see what was going on. They were stunned. The little girl with black hair did actually did fight back. Two teachers arrived trying to control me. I beated at them and threw almost all furniture after them. I cried. Nothing and no one should treat me like the poor rabbit in the tale. Why was the world so evil? Why?

Three other teachers arrived and the five adults tried to control me and calm me down....but I had enough. I would not let them win. I looked at my class mates. Suddenly I understood. It was so clear. I was different from the others. Should I not be proud of that? Did I need to be like them, act like them or look like them? No, I did not have to. I was proud of my black hair, my look and my position. Suddenly I had something that the others did not have....my own power and ability to stand alone. I did not need them. I smiled; not an inner smile. They could easily see it. My teachers looked at me as did my class mates. They did not understand. From that moment I was not afraid of standing alone against all the others. I was not afraid of being different. I would turn against the whole crew everytime needed be.

"Why are you so afraid of things you do not know about?", I asked a teacher once. "Why do people always react with evil designs when they are facing unknown things?", I kept on asking. I wanted to know. I wanted some clear answers.

The teacher looked at me. He feared me because I knew so much about myself and about life, which was not given children at that age to know.

"Life is never that easy. But you seem to handle it. Be proud of it and use it!", he just said.

During spring I prepared my birthday. It should be different. I decided to invite my class mates. Yes, It should be different. Normally I did not celebrate my birthday with anybody other than my adoptive parents. By that I would show my class mates that no matter how much evil the world and life could bring, nothing should force me to walk the path of darkness. I would show them that they could not harm me. Surprisingly everybody showed up. I turned 8 that year. At the birthday party my adoptive mother and me made Korean food, such as Kimchi, Pulgogi, and rice. I sang: "San togi togi yah....."; you know, the song about the rabbit jumping over the mountains. I showed them, what they had feared and I did it without anger. I showed them in a good way what they had mocked me about; something they did not know anything about, and by that that they had mocked me without reason...and what they had feared was a beautiful thing; a beautiful girl proud of the Korean culture. They were stunned. They loved the food and they had a great time. From that moment everything changed. They asked me about things according to Korea. They loved to see me dressed in my Hanbok. I danced for them. I showed them my drawings of things from Korea.

"Do you want to go there....to Korea I mean?", a class mate asked me one day. I looked at her and smiled.

"Yes, one day I want to go home!", I answered. Suddenly emptiness filled my heart. I realized that I did not know at all what home was. I did not know my birthmother. I did not know Korea at all. By that I realized with horror that I was a child of an unknown heritage. It was a big black hole of nothing, and I was just falling, falling, and falling. But I wanted to go home. I felt that I belonged to Korea...a place to where I dreamed at night. When I cried alone in the black night where no one could hear me, I dreamed of the Land of Morning Calm. I dreamed that my birthmother sat on my bed side singing the soft lullaby....San togi togi yah.......

At school I made many assignments about Korea and Korean culture with many feelings involved. I made paintings and showed to my class. I told what I knew with pleasure, pride and tears in my eyes. I told about my feelings about being an adoptee and I grew in knowledge, experience, and power. The mockery in my early years had really helped me. That, I realized by now. I visited schools and talked about Korea and my life as an adoptee. From the hard time where I had been mocked I learned to face a crowd and telling them the truth that everybody had avoided in ages; the different and the unknown. I knew what to do and my path was clear. I knew what I wanted; finding my birthmother. I fought against my own fear of my unknown heritage and I fought against racism in Denmark in general. Racism is based on unknown things connected to other peoples, such as cultures, attitudes, mentalities and religions. Denmark is a multi-ethnic society and therefore there are many racial problems still and still I fight against it. I fight for my own rights as human being and I will keep on fighting to the day I leave this world!

"Mother, I want to tell you something", I began one evening. I hesitated. I had told her before about my dreams about finding my birthmother, but in my adoption records it was told that my birthparents were unknown. We all knew then that it was almost impossible to begin to dig in the past to finding some fertile results. I drank my cup of tea waiting for her to answer. She looked at me. She knew what I was going to say but it was difficult for her to find the right words.

"You are your own, you are responsible for your own life. Therefore you must find yourself in yourself. What you might find does not live in your birthmother. It does not live in me either. No, it seeds, grows, and lives inside yourself. It is like seeds of a silent tree. No matter what you might find, you have your own power, your own identity, and your own "I", which tells you who you are!", she said in a soft understanding voice. I began to cry and she held my tightly as she had done so many times before. And I sang "San togi togi yah".......

In my teenage years I spent much time with other adoptees from Korea. I struggled with my own identity. I struggled with my unknown heritage. I learned to accept that I was adopted. I learned to love myself and my life. We made Korean food, talked about Korean culture and learned much more about that. Many of the other adoptees had experienced the same things as I had. I still felt that I belonged more to Korea than Denmark. In the following years I looked at myself in the mirror and thought about "umma". I imagined her hugging me and telling me that she loved me and what she did once back in 1972 was to give me a better life. She did it of love. I knew if I found her what I would tell her....

"I love you and I will always love you!".......

I surely looked like her and I was proud of that. As I got femine shapes and curves as I grew during the years I thought much more about my look and how much of how my birthmother looked like. Yes, I was proud of her. I had black hair and I was proud of being born in Korea. But who was I?...Again my adoptive mother’s words came to my mind...." No matter what you might find, you have your own power, your own identity, and your own "I", which tells you who you are

In 1987 I went to Korea with my adoptive parents. They had decided to give me a journey to my motherland, Korea, from that day they held me in their arms for the first time in Copenhagen Airport the 12th of December 1972 when I had just arrived from Korea. I faced what I had been missing in my whole life; my motherland Korea. I was stunned because it was so different. I realized with horror even though I had talked about Korea so much, how little I really knew about Korea. I realized how much that I had overlooked. My past was indeed a black hole. Now it was my turn to react on something of which I knew very very little. Suddenly I understood my class mates. It reminded me of my unknown roots and unknown heritage. I felt dizzy and my heart acted with pain. My roots seemed to be a big black hole of nothing and a never-ending nightmare. And I was just falling, falling and falling.....When walking the small streets in Korea I realized that it was a life that I missed so terribly. I saw people and how they looked like me...I sat down in the middle of the street in Seoul and began to cry. People came to help. My adoptive parent held me....I thought about how many mothers who abandoned their children in the streets and the emptiness filled my soul and darkness and sorrow took over. I felt that I belonged more to Denmark than to Korea; I was sad. It was a terrible feeling. I did not want to feel in that way. The journey was an experience from which I learned a lot the following years. By that I struggled more with my identity than before and my fear for the unknown heritage grew. But I fought against my fear. I would not let it control me. I learned to live with it and control it with cold overview. I kept on thinking about the journey and kept on learning more about Korea.

"Your Korean parents and family are unknown", that was what was said in my adoption records. "Your name is Kim, Young-Mi and you are born the 19th of April 1972. I had been to Nam Kwang Orphanage and referred further to Seoul at Korean Social Services for adoption", that was the only thing I knew then.

We asked at the orphanage about further information but I was too young to get more information. After I turned 18 I was allowed to get more information according to the Korean Law. I decided to get more information when I was old enough and ready.....

"It is here I gave birth to you!", my adoptive mother said once when we reached Nam Kwang Social Services. For her, my life began here among the other cute little babies. When looking into their dark eyes, I knew that they were yearning after love, a set of parents who loved them, and arms holding them for confidence; something that I had had.

It reminded me of my own destiny. It reminded me about my own yearning. During my childhood I hided food under my bed because I was afraid of not having enough. I was afraid of starving. It was a touching moment to visit Nam Kwang Social Services. I was sad. I wanted to adopt all the children and bringing them back with me to Denmark. Why was the world so evil? Why? Again I asked myself these questions. Why was the society in Korea so rough? Why was there no help for single mothers so they could keep their children? Why did they not have the same rights as women had in Denmark? Why were Korean women forced to give their children up for adoption? Many questions showed up during the following years.

"Why was I given up for adoption?"

I wondered if I was not good enough and my birthmother was not satisfied. Maybe she was disappointed. During whole my life I was afraid of making mistakes. I was afraid that people walked away. I dated many boys and slept with them from the age of 12. I slept with them but I did not want a relationship. I was afraid of being alone.....but why?....because I have been given away once. Maybe that could happen again......

I wanted that people; everybody, should love me. This was one of the reasons why I dated many boys. I did also want that the whole entire world should love me. In this task I did a lot. I lied to get attention....but I was not good at it. People walked away and I lost many friends when they discovered what I was doing. Once I had lied to my adoptive mother. I had slept with a guy and I told my adoptive mother that I was pregnant, which I was not. She found out when I got my menstruation a month after. She came into my room and was very upset.

"Why are you lying to me?", she asked. I was reading a book. I looked up.

"What?", I had heard what she had said but I played very innocent. I wanted it to be a bad dream. I just wanted to dig myself down below earth and never show up on the surface again.

"I do not know what you are talking about", I continued. I felt really stupid. I looked away not daring to look at her eyes which knew people so very well. Reality was reflected in them.

"I really do not....ehrrmm...I would never lie to you", I said in a low voice barely heard. Raindrops felt heavily outside.

"You know damn well what I am talking about...and do not make that grimace!", she suddenly yelled at me. I raised from my chair and wanted to leave the room but she pulled me back.

"Do you dare touch me again!", I screamed. Still I avoided her gaze. I walked away. Then I turned to face her. Eyes full of tears, mind full of anger and a heart filled with emptiness I gazed her with hatred...

"What is it you wanna hear!!? How good life is as an adoptee? How perfect my life is? How happy you and dad are to having a child!!? Do you want to hear how well you have raised me!!? Now I want to tell you the truth and the whole truth and nothing but the truth!!", I suddenly paused gasping for air. I realized how tears were running down the face of my adoptive mother. I just became more angry. How could she feel sorry for herself when it was me who was the victim? I did not realize that it was me she felt sorry for and she suffered because I did. I did not realize that she understood more than I knew or would accept. No, anger and hatred burned like fire within my body.

"Mother, I have not chosen to live here in Denmark! I have not chosen to be your child, your daughter. No, I have not chosen the destiny. But I am old enough now and I am the one who has the right to choose my own life!", I yelled. "I have not chosen to be born into this damn world. But I can choose if I wanna die!!, I continued.

"Of course you are your own. You are the only one to choose what you want, but think twice!", my mother said calmly. She gazed me mildly. Still she webt. She sat on my bed toying with a teddybear. The rain felt heavily now and twilight had just fallen. I walked over to sit with her. Surprisingly she stroke my hair.

"Look back at what you have done. You have done a great work Young Mi. You have worked a lot to make your life great. You have worked on the issue called adoption. Father and I, we have just supported you and been there when life was too heavy and difficult. Look, I am still here. And do you know what I see now? I see a beautiful young woman of 16 years, still growing. But do you know what I also see? I see a part of you which still feels abandoned and alone. This part is the small child who was left at the orphanage in 1972. This part is what you have forgotten and trying to avoid. This part has not been allowed to grow. It is a part that hurts. You have feared it and reminds you of your unknown heritage. This is the big black hole as you call it. This part needs comfort and love. When you told that you were pregnant, it was a cry for help!", she paused for an instant.

Yes, she was right. I realized with sadness that I had really avoided this part of myself. I realized that I was more afraid than I thought I was in the first place, that people should walk away from me and I should be abandoned again. I looked at my adoptive mother and she smiled through tears.

"The little baby yearns for love. You must let it grow. You are strong enough to make it one with the rest of yourself and also, you are strong enough to accept it. By that you will be able to accept your life as an adoptee. You have been ashamed of this part, but again, I am still here. I do not walk away", my adoptive mother said. She still stroke my hair.

"Young Mi, now it is time to let it out!", she finished. My adoptive mother stayed with me the whole night. I webt.

The dark part became brighter and brighter, and the small abandoned child grew, and time went by. I learned how to allow the small child inside me growing and letting it out. In the years where I was mocked I stood alone. Already then I knew what loneliness was. By knowledge and experience I let it out and I found myself. All the answers dwelt in my own heart. All this was what my adoptive mother had told me but I found it by my own feelings. She just opened the doors even though it hurted so much. She opened my mind so I could see who I really were. I found myself. By all this I could work on the issue adoption in another perspective. All my knowledge came to my mind. She opened my heart and showed me that love was also dedicated me. Yes, it was easy now to accept that I was adopted. I liked myself as I was. I was proud of it.

I began to travel. I went to France. I loved this country and I loved speaking French. I loved sitting in a restaurant at Champs-Elysées and enjoying spring and a bottle of red wine. When I was 19 years old I went to France to work. I got an apartment and I worked at a hotel as receptionist. I talked with clients from all over the world. I felt that my heart was lost in Paris. I decided to live here forever. I called my adoptive mother and told that I was in Paris and I wanted to live here forever. I told her about my work and apartment. She was happy that I succeeded but sad that I had not told her and my adoptive father that I had sold my apartment in Denmark. But she knew that I could easily get another one when I would go back to Denmark.

I met a guy and he was really romantic. I felt in love with him at once. We met in a café and same night we just made love to each other. He was just so great. I promised him to stay with him forever. As did he. He was a good looking man but one day I found out that he had been unfaithful to me. When I went to his place after work one hour earlier than usual I entered his apartment. I had bought a bunch of blood red roses to him. I looked forward to sit infront of the fireplace enjoying a bottle of red wine with him....I could hear that he had visitors. I heard a voice and someone who laughed. I heard a woman’s voice. I entered the livingroom. Right there on the floor was my boyfriend. But he was not alone. He had a date...no he made love with two women. I was shocked. I remember I beated at him with the roses. I screamed at him. It was like a bad movie, like La Boême. I ran out of the door with tears in my eyes. I could and I would never forgive this. How could he!? Today I know that he was just a poor fool. Yes, like I was in my teenage years. I have learned to forgive. Like I have forgiven myself for hurting dates who really loved me. Life is not easy. It is always easy to forgive oneself but harder to forgive other people.

I called my adoptive mother. I was sad after what had happened. I just said what had happened but she did not answer on that, She told me to come back to Denmark at once. She told me that my father had just died of a heart disease. I asked her to repeat it and so she did. I wept. I ran back to my apartment and took as much of my stuff with me. I bought a ticket back to Denmark.

I do not remember much from the funeral but I hoped that my father would come back. I could not accept that he was not there anylonger. I would not face reality. I tried to forget. I waited for him at afternoon to come home after work. When cooking I made a portion for him also. I sat on my bed waiting for him to say good night. I waited to hearing his tales and what else he could tell. But he did not show up. I remember when I was 12 years old he talked with me at bedtime. We were talking about death that night:

"Dad, I love you!", I said looking at him. He smiled and stroke my hair. "You may not die. But when you do, you know, flying to Heaven, then will you promise me that you will look down at me every day?" I kept on asking. He nodded. He did not know what to say. Then he nodded again.

I had to accept his death but I could not in the first place. I just wanted to leave this world. I wanted peace and the pain to stop. I wanted to go to Heaven to be with my father. I did not want to stay in a cold and evil world where nobody understood. I went to sleep every evening with the wish never to wake up again. I needed somebody to talk to. I began to lie again to get attention and people walked away. When I told the truth people did also walk away. My adoptive mother had also her own chagrin and pain. She had lost her husband. In fact it was two different persons that we had lost; my father and her husband. We could not work together nor could we help each other. I felt very alone. I felt that nobody understood. I felt that everybody hated me and that they did not care. I wanted to die. I decided one night to take a glass of sleeping pills. I held the glass up infront of me and looked at it. Then blinded by tears I realized how much I loved life and how much that it was up to myself to get the best out of it. It was my own responsibility to create a life worth living. I threw the glass away. I could accept that father was not there anymore; oh yes, he would always be in my memories as the ideal father figure. He was the one who played with me. He was the one I talked to when life was too hard. He was the one I teased. He was the one, whom I thought was childish when he in an age of 50 loved building sand castles near the beach. On yes, he was the one with whom I could be childish. I could laugh and cry with him. My dream had always been to become a pilot and fly the jet fighter. My adoptive father worked at an air base and he tried what he could to let me in. I could talk with him about my dreams. But I was not tall enough and I had a bad sight; a short-sightness, I think. It has been a big dream flying high up above the night sky.

I was proud that I had had such a great father. I felt indeed that he looked at me from his pink cloud in Heaven. He would always be there. No one could take away the good memories. They would be there forever. Yes, that was something that I could be proud of. I began to write down my feelings in my diary. I began to paint and draw very much. I dreamed of my adoptive father. I made a big oil painting which represented my dream which I dreamed very often. It showed my adoptive father and me walking along the beach while sun was setting. The shadows were long and symbolized the strong connection between us. It also symbolized strong ties between us. Sun was reflecting in the big ocean and the sun itself was a big and red globe up above the sky. It represented the love I felt for him.

My adoptive father did not have the opportunity to live but I had. I had whole my life and I was still young. It was up to myself to create a life which was worth living. I could do it by myself. It was my own responsibility. I began to appreciate every single moment of my life. When walking for long walks in the forest nearby my place I relaxed. I enjoyed the green leaves during spring, flowers during summer, countless of red-yellow nuances during fall, and the fine white snow during winter. I enjoyed sitting nearby the lake dreaming, writing and singing. I enjoyed sleeping under open night sky counting all the stars. I walked in nature. I tasted life. By that I realized how much good I had in my life; a thing that other people did not have; the ability not only to exist but also to live. I began to study. I strived toward a new goal; to become a translator in English, Danish, Spanish, Latin and French and German. I enjoyed learning. I would not stop. I would be the best. I believed in myself. I believed in my own power. I traveled to France. I lived in the Quartier Latin. This quarter is romantic and shows French culture. I enjoyed walking in the big parks of Paris when spring had just arrived and children were playing. Yes, I looked back at my past and I saw how much knowledge and power I had experienced and by that I saw how much I could gain. I would always be my own. Nobody could control me. I finished high school with great results. I enjoyed life and I was putting things into my life, which I loved. I could do it. Still I fought against racism. I fought for those who suffered. At school we made many assignments about racism in Europe comparing to that in the United States which were on of the reasons to crime, hatred, war and murder.

Again I dated many guys but I could not really fall in love with them. I would not bind myself to a life where I was not allowed to think and use my brain. I was not ready to create my own family. I would enjoy and taste life first. As a mother I wanted to have something valuable to give my children. I would raise my own children with happiness and I wanted them to have a happy mother who had done much in her life. By that I would have so much more to give my children. I wanted my own freedom. And freedom I got. I still have it and will always have. A relationship can last forever if both love each other and give each other right to live as human beings and so both will be able to trust each other. I found my real love and it was Joergen. He was understanding, he was handsome and respected me as I was. I could talk about everything; which is an important thing in a relationship. We could talk about problems and we were always there for each other to listen. We could argue and laugh and cry together. We could be ourselves. We could show each other our feelings. He gave me what I needed as woman. When I get my own children one day they will grow up with a set of parents who will always be there for them with love and support. I am sure that Joergen will be a great father. As a mother I will be able to give my children a good start in life. When my daughter takes her first step, I will be the proud mother. When she gets teeth I will be there when it hurts. When she has learned to say her first words I will be so proud. I will be the proud mother when she tells about her first day at school. When she is sad I will be there. When she has had a nightmare and wants to sleep by my side I will hold my arms around her and lull her into sleep. I will be more than happy to tell her about my Korean heritage. One day I will surely have the chance to take her with me to Korea; then she will see her mother’s beautiful country; The Land of Morning Calm. I will show her the world. I will support her when she tries to find her own strength and when it hurts. I will be so proud when she tells about her first date and she is in love. Life is a wonderful thing. Her name will be Daniella. I thought about my unknown heritage again. Of whom was I a child? Who had brought me to the orphanage? Why was I given up for adoption? What had happened in the past? All these questions showed up again according to my own thoughts about having children one day.....

In 1998 I got the opportunity to go back to Korea again. Joergen and me lived together. I worked as an Internet and Computer Programmer and translator. We had got a great apartment nearby the place where I grew up. I was ready to go back and face reality. I was ready to return to Nam Kwang Orphanage to know the whole truth. We traveled with a group of other Korean adoptees on the Motherland Tour 1998.

I was really nervous the day we should go to Korea. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I was so excited. Now I had to face my Motherland which I feared last time. I was also afraid of what I might find in my adoption records. If indeed I was abandoned, then could I handle to getting it confirmed again? If my parents really were unknown, would I be able to live with that?

We landed in Kimpo Airport Seoul the 10th of October 1998. I was very excited and so were the other adoptees. When we waited for the luggage I got a fear that I could not explain. It suddenly showed up. I thought that I was dying. I could not breath and my hands were shaking. It was a kind of panic fear.

"I wanna go back to Denmark!", I said to Joergen. I found a chair and sat down. I realized that it was a reaction from the Motherland Tour of 1987. Oh no! Not the same reaction as the time when I sat down in the middle of a street in Seoul because it was too much and I was afraid!! What I had feared was my motherland and now I had returned to face it again, right now! I was strong enough. If I could not handle this, then I would not be able to handle the result at the orphanage nor to meet my biological Korean parents. I could do it. Yes, I could do it! I raised from the chair and went to the group who waited just for me. The fear vanished. I smiled and we went to the hotel in downtown of Seoul. I felt asleep at once. I was tired.

It was arranged that the whole group of adoptees should go to their orphanages; either Holt or Korean Social Services to get information about their adoption records. I was nervous. I remember that we sat down for an hour. The orphanage looked like itself as it also did back in 1987. I read a book because time seemed very long. The director came and told that I was the first who should go with him to his office to get what they had of information. It was now or never.

"Joergen I do not think that I can go through this. I am so afraid!", I whispered. "I just wanna go back to Denmark and forget all this!", I continued. The director waited for me in the doorway.

"You have nothing to be afraid off. Hard times in your life have made you ready. So no matter what the result might be, then you will be able to handle it!", Joergen said. I turned and walked out of the door with the director.

At his office was a disk and two chairs. I sat down infront of him. He placed my case on the table and looked at me. Then he looked at my adoption records. My heart beated and I gasped for air.

"As far as I can see, your name Kim, Young-Mi is your right name. Your date of birth the 19th of April 1972 is also right!", he looked up. He gave me a picture of myself taken at the orphanage before I was adopted. It was similar to that I have had; both in my Korean passport and visa and that which was attached with my copied adoption records. I just nodded.

"Your grandmother brought you to Nam Kwang Orphanage!", he continued.

"What!!?", I was stunned. It was like a lightning which has just striken me. I could not move. "Will you please repeat that!?", I asked. He did so. I could not believe what I had heard.

Then he continued while looking through all the papers: "Your mother was unmarried and your name...on I think that I mentioned that before...hm..let us see...well, I can tell you so much that your grandmother’s family name is Park!", he said, like he was only talking to himself. I raised from my chair. I went outside to smoke a cigarette. My hands were shaking and I webt. Through me tears I recognize my own strength and courage again. I was indeed strong enough. I went into the office again with a bright smile. He looked up at me while smiling. "That is all that I can tell. You will get further information at Nam Kwang!", he finished.

I ran back to the building where the other adoptees were waiting. "Joergen, Joergen!! I have some news for you. My name and date of birth are right!! You know what? My grandmother named Park brought me to the Nam Kwang Orphanage!! I cannot believe it. I am not just abandoned, left in a basket wrapped in dirty newspapers or old carpets! I am not left in the street nor on the steps of the orphanage. My grandmother had been to the orphanage!!", I screamed. Joergen and the group of adoptees listened when I repeated all the new information. The director came shortly after to talk to one of the other adoptees. Yes, she was also nervous to hearing what news he had for her.

The result was after 17 adoptees had talked to the director, that only two of us had some new information. The rest of them had nothing. What an evil world. My Korean family loved me and had hearts of gold, so they had done the right thing. They had brought me personally to the orphanage, I was proud that my Korean family had been so brave. I was not rootless in the same way as before. I was not abandoned as I had thought in my whole life. The big black hole seemed already then to become smaller and smaller. I was not falling that quickly into it anymore.

The other adoptee got her birthmother’s person number and therefore the orphanage could find her within a day. They had contacted her but she was very upset and she totally denied having given birth to her. That was very evil. I do not understand how cruel a person could be. Maybe she had been married to another man but therefore she could have told that instead of that evil answer anyway. The adoptee was very sad of course.

We left Seoul to fly to Cheju-Do and after that to Pusan. I loved walking the small streets of Pusan. I loved being in Korea again.

"Well, Young-Mi, was this what you had feared back in 1987? It is indeed a wonderful country. You are a fool, how can you fear this?", I said to myself. Nobody hurts you and nobody bites. This is just wonderful. I loved the small shops and the street life. The small child inside me had indeed grown. The wounds were healed.

The group arrived at Chagalchi Fish Market. Our tour guide thought that we should experience that. He suggested a living octopus for dinner. Only two persons; not the adoptees but the parents of some of them, they had courage enough. The ate a raw living octopus and drank socho after that. We just looked. I would not try. The rest of us found a McDonald.

The next day we went to the Nam Kwang Orphanage. I could barely wait. I wrote my diary and prayed to God and my adoptive father that there was more, so I could begin to search. The orphanage had changed a lot. Now it was a nice place with many green areas which surrounded the main building. Also I faced the orphanage which I had feared. It reminded me of the unknown past when I visited it in 1987. Now it was great to visit. I confirmed for myself many times how much I had worked on the issue about being an adoptee from 1987 to 1998. Much had changed, The director of Nam Kwang Orphanage told us welcome and kept a nice speak. She was a nice old lady. After that one from the staff told me to follow. Joergen went with me into the office. Another lady looked through my adoption record. She looked at me.

"Your name is Kim, Young-Mi, born the 19th of April 1972. Your grandmother’s name is Park Ok Nyo. Her address is Dong-Gu Goa Chon-Dong-4 Dong San Yi-6 10-1!", she paused waiting for me to finish writing down the new information. Then she continued in a monotone voice: "Your mother’s name is Choi Kyung Sook and your father’s name is Kim Ji Sang!", she finished calmly. When I had written all down I screamed, webt, laughed and screamed again. It was like an exam with a great end and great results..

I ran out to the rest of the group and told them all this. I jumped up and down. I ran to the director of Nam Kwang Orphanage and embraced her. I kissed her.

"You are just a darling-dear!!", I said. Then I ran down behind the building and ran many time around the court where children where playing. They must have thought that I was totally out of my mind. I must have been. "I love you Koreans and I love Korea!!", I screamed. The director asked me if she should call Korean Social Services so they could begin the search. Of course they should.

"Yes do that at once!", I said firmly. I was shaking all over my body of excitement and happiness. According to the Korean law it was only Korean Social Services who was allowed to do the searching. After that we went to Kyoung-Ju, Taegu, Taejon, Korean Folkvillage and back to Seoul again. It was a great trip. I realized that I had feared without any reasons and I was happy about that.

When we took off from Kimpo Airport in Seoul I webt. I wanted of whole my heart to stay in Korea to the day I died. They had not found my Korean family yet. I got the number of Korean social Services so I could call when I had returned in Denmark. The person who made the searching was Mrs. Kim.

When I got back to Denmark. I was feeling great. I called Mrs. Kim many many times. She kept on saying that I have to be patient. It could take a week, a month or a whole year. Yes, I kept waiting.

Once a friend told me about experiences of searching for biological families according to being a Korean adoptee. She told me about the Korean attitude which was strict. Also it was often that Korean parents did not want to have anything to do with their children when they came back and found them. It reminded me of the adoptee whose mother had denied having given birth to her. Many new questions showed up. Would my family see me again? What would they say and how would they react when I was raised in another country? Maybe they were not alive anymore? If they wanted to see me, was it because of my money? Would they accept my way of behavior? Would my birthmother deny that she had given birth to me? What if she had got married again to another man? Would she meet me then? Did she tell him about me? What about siblings? At last but not at least would the orphanage be able to locate them at all?

I made a homepage on the Internet according to the Motherland Tour in 1998. I wanted to sharing my experiences, feelings and thoughts with other adoptees from Korea all over the world. During the months I made many new friendships. In my dreams I wanted to travel from north to south of Korea with all the Korean adoptees of the world to share justice, goodness, love and power with Koreans. I wanted in my dreams to change their points of view on adoption in general. I wanted to fight. Even in Korea prejudges for adoptees existed. I knew that after much talking to many Korean adoptees on the Internet. In my dreams I would contact Kim Dae Jung and make him helping all of us in over request for understanding and an open dialogue with Koreans who did not understand. This would make more reunions coming through among families who were separated because of adoption. During this time I was very mad at the system and how people could judge without knowing anything about it. Again, why was the world so evil, why? Only because we had been to an orphanage, then people looked down at us. I did not care. I would be the first to speak to the whole Korea and telling how proud I was to have been to an orphanage and how proud I was to be an adoptee; a child of to wonderful nations. I would mock them back in their faces and show them how little they really knew about life and the world outside their small home. The other adoptees agreed with me on this idea. They had had the same dream and wish. We lighted our fire by chatting and e-mailing during the months and talked a lot about our lives as adoptees. I really got many things on the right shelf. I was not the only one with the feelings.

One day a nice man named Choi Tae-Jin had written me. He had seen my homepage and he knew that I lived in Denmark. He sought his brother who was adopted to Denmark. Choi Tae-Jin lived in Pusan. He ask for my help. I promised him to do what I could. I love to help people and I will do everything which stands in my power to find his brother. I asked him to help. I asked if he knew of my Korean family. I gave him all the information I had. He did not know my family but he promised me to help also. The group of adoptees with whom I traveled in Korean in 1998 gave me much support. Friends and family supported me. I have spoken and webt with Joergen. My dream about finding my family seemed to disappear again. At least I knew who had brought me to Nam Kwang Orphanage. I had names of grandmother and my parents. I could accept it as it was now, just if....

The orphanage still tried to locate my family. We celebrated Christmas with my adoptive mother and her new husband. Many months went by and I still had not heard from the orphanage. Around the 5thth of Marts I got a sad message from Korean Social Services. They had not been able to locate anything. Mrs. Kim even said that they names could have been made up and the persons maybe did not exist. It was like something broke inside me. Yes, it was my big dream which blew away all hope like a balloon. Again my surroundings supported me all they could. I was sad. I had called my adoptive mother many times crying and telling that my dream seemed almost impossible. I have many times when visiting her thought that life was hard and I had given up. But she gave me the belief that I would succeed. Should I give up now? Could I stand more hard truths? Should I?...no!!! I had worked so hard. I would not just give up now. I wanted this to succeed. If not, then I would know that I had tried to the bitter end. I would not just sit and watch while the world was passing by! By all Gods, no!!

I made an appointment with Tae-Jin to come to Korea and broadcast my search both through Korean Broadcasting System and in PusanIlbo. The meaning was that a reporter would make an interview with me in front of Nam Kwang Orphanage. Finally I had the chance to tell everybody how proud I was to having been to an orphanage and gladly I would share my experience as an adoptee with people who did not know much about life in general. Gladly I would tell them that they were more than welcome to look down at me. What difference did that make on me...nothing! They could come to me and I would show them things they did not know anything about. After that they would probably kiss my ass. That should be a GREAT pleasure of mine.

The appointment was that I would arrive in Korea the 10th of April with Joergen. I would stay in Seoul in a couple of days to get use to the time difference. We would stay with my friend Choi Myoung-Shin. The meaning was that I should make an interview at Korean Broadcasting System before continuing to Pusan to make the Interview in front of Nam Kwang Orphanage.

Before going I talked to the reporter of PusanIlbo and a government officer. I asked the government officer what he could do to locate my Korean family. I gave him all the information I had. He did not know of them but he would try his best. We e-mailed each other. I looked forward to go back to Korea and I loved preparing for the journey. I called it "Operation-mum and-dad".

Then, it happened. A Saturday the telephone rang. It was the 1st of April a week before we should travel to Korea. It was Choi Tae-Jin.

"We have found your grandmother and your mother!! We have found your grandmother and your mother!", he said eagerly. I could not believe what I had heard. Then it had only taken them around three days to locate my Korean family. They had found them!! After hanging up I jumped up and down. I screamed and I cried. I was happy so happy. Joergen and me webt together. I called friend and family. I talked to my adoptive mother. She was very happy. The same day I received e-mails both from Choi Tae-Jin and the government officer. They told the great news again. The government officer told that my grandmother wanted to meet me. I was so happy. My heart was filled with love and happiness. Everybody supported me and wished me good luck. The group of adoptees from Motherland Tour helped me and supported me.

Choi Tae-Jin, the reporter, the government officer and I, we agreed to make an article about the reunion instead of the interview in front of Nam Kwang Orphanage. I should meet my grandmother the 13th of April. Wow! I was so happy.

It was told that my Korean mother was alcoholic. It was the first thing which was told about her other than she lived in Taegu. The first impression was always the most sensitive. I was very worried. I had heard many alcoholics who could not stop drinking and they destroyed their own lives. This should not happen for my mother. Again the attitude between Korea and Denmark is different. In a Danish view an alcoholic is one who drink 60 beers every single day and if he is not drunk then he fights to get more and more alcohol. He cannot live without alcohol. When he wakes up he has to get alcohol to make through the morning and he has to keep drinking all day long to get through the day.

I was very worried. I wanted to help. I would have suggested support groups for alcoholics and be there to talk with her. I knew she had suffered and life had been so rough...if I really could help I would. I wrote a letter to my birthmother...but I decided to wait and see how bad it was before I did something. I felt the burning love I had for my birthmother and my Korean family.

We arrived in Seoul the 11th of April. We met Choi Myoung-Shin at the Kimpo Airport in Seoul. It was great to seeing her. We spent a couple of days in Seoul. It was great to be in Korea and it is indeed beautiful during spring. I walked the small streets again and this time I realized that I now got the opportunity to get a life which I have always wanted. I webt together with Choi Myoung-Shin.

Finally the day came where Joergen and me should go to Pusan. I had not slept the night before. I had written in my diary, talked, webt and laughed. We had decided to go by train. It was a beautiful experience to travel in Korea by train. All the mountains and the great nature. The big fields and the green trees. Spring was really beautiful. Too bad that I had forgotten my water colors and my drawing equipment. I was really exited and thrill of joy filled my soul. I was so happy, so happy.....a light in my soul and a dream coming true.......

Dear birthmother, we arrived in Pusan the 13th of April. Sun shined. The government officer, the reporter from Pusan Ilbo and another person, whom I do not remember very well, picked us up at the station. I realized how much my hands were shaking. I had not slept last night and I looked very tired. The trip through Pusan and to grandmother’s home lasted in years, I thought. I was nervous now. I looked out of the window of the car thinking and thinking. I looked at the buildings. I looked at people. Grandmother called at the mobile phone to hearing when we would arrived. She probably felt the same as I did. I could barely wait to seeing her.

She would meet us at the big road and follow us from there home to her house. I stepped out of the car. So did the others. We stood for a moment. I was now shaking all over my body. I got some kind of panic fear again. It was now I should face my unknown heritage and my unknown past.

Suddenly the government officer pointed and said:

"There is your grandmother and your cousine!",

I looked at the other side of the road. There were many people. I saw a woman. She looked at me and I looked at her. It was like my heart stopped beating for a second. What I saw was a woman not taller than me. She waited for us to cross the street. She was my biological grandmother; of flesh and blood!! Blinded by tears I followed the others when there was green light. The woman looked very nice, handsome and cute.

The next thing I remember is that she held me and said something in Korean. It was so great to feel her and look at her. I really enjoyed holding her like she held me. We walked in what I thought was very looong. Sun beamed. Small shops lined the street with fish, clothes and all kind of sea food. It smelled of fish. It was difficult for me not to cry. All this, it was something that I had missed in my whole life. People enjoyed spring. Children played and old people sat outside their houses enjoying the sun of spring. The quarter was very nice. It was very Korean and looked like a picture I had seen according to history of Korea. It reminded me of my assignments I made about Korea at school. I had seen such a quarter on movies. Now it was right here in reality. My grandmother lived here.

"This is here I belong!", I thought. I smiled an inner smile. This is here I can call home.....

Finally we reached her house. It was a nice home. Now I was at grandmother’s house. I was with my biological grandmother! An experience that I had never thought that I should have. We sat in her living room. Cousine made something to eat. I was not very hungry. All the impressions and strong feelings had made satisfied. Grandmother caressed me and began to cry. The government officer translated what was said:

"Because of our fault, Young-Mi has sought after me and her mother. I thank her a lot. I feel terrible that we could not keep her. All these years I have had a bad conscience!", grandmother said.

My friend Choi Myoung-Shin had taught me to say in Korean:

"I am honored that you wanted to see me again. I love you, I have missed you and I will love you forever!",

We all webt. This was a very strong moment. I could not stop looking at grandmother. She looked like me. She was as strong as I was. The shape of her face was very similar to my own. I was feeling that I had come home at last. I felt that I belonged and I felt like a whole person; a human being. I felt that I belonged both to Denmark and Korea; in fact, more that I did before. I looked around and I loved her place. Then cousine brought us something to eat. I just remember that there were many people. I was happy.

The first night at grandmother’s home I wept. I felt her arms around me. I heard her soft voice. She caressed me. Again tears ran down my face. I was tired, happy and I was not feeling rootless anymore. Now I had something to live for.

Dear birthmother, when I go to bed, the last thing I think about is the great memory to sit in grandmother’s livingroom and hearing you talking. In my memories we eat rice, pulgogi, kimchi and strawberry. I hear your voices and your laughing. So no matter what I will be with you forever in mind, spirit and body. When you go to sleep every evening my spirit is with you and holding you until you sleep. Then I hold you and telling how much I love you. Just remember that. I will soon see you again. Do not worry I will never disappear again. When I think of this I smile and happiness fill my soul before I sleep. The picture of me and you stands on my night table so I can look at you. By that I send you all my love. No matter what, I will always be there. When I look at the ring that grandmother gave me, I know that she will always be there too.

I met all from the family except from uncle in New York. I hope to be able to meet him one day. It was strong feelings when I met the rest of the family. They were very very nice. Now I know where I have my strong mind from. Now I know where I have my positive mind from. Uncle looks like me very much! I am proud of my Korean family. I was glad that they accepted me as I was.

Grandmother told that I had siblings. She told that you had been married again but unfortunately that you husband had died. It was a sad story. I wonder how my sister and brother would react when they saw me. Would they be sad or would it annoy them that suddenly a sister showed up?

The day where I should meet you I was nervous. I had never been that nervous before in whole my life. I had spent much time on grandmother’s roof to write diary and talk. I had been to an Internet Café and writing friends and family. Oh God, I was really nervous.

I sat in grandmother’s livingroom. I had just been on the roof. Suddenly grandmother called:

"Your mother is here! Your mother is here!"

I wanted to jump out of the window and ran away. I was shaking and my heart was beating very fast. I could barely breath. I thought about hiding in grandmother’s closet. But why was I nervous? Oh, maybe your reaction. How would you react when you saw me? Would you think that I was too Americanized? What about when you knew that I was raised in another country?...I had been given up once...that could happen again....

I raised and went out of the livingroom. I closed my eyes in a second. Then I looked into eyes which were dark, intelligent and beautiful. I saw a face very much similar to my own. I saw you for the first time. You were wonderful. I remember that the first thing we did was to find a lighter. We both were very nervous and you were probable as afraid as I was. You were also afraid of how I would react when I saw you. Finally we got a lighter and finally we could sit down relaxing and smoking.

I looked at you very much. You looked like me. The next thing I remember is that we looked at each other. You traced with a finger lines in my face. You began to cry and so did I. I loved holding you. I still cannot explain how I felt. I was just very very happy. This was my biggest dream coming true. I enjoyed holding you. You told me about your life and my heart was melting. You told about my father and anger rose inside me. I did not understand all you said of course, but I think that I got the main point. He was just a looser. When we meet in October this year, I want to hear the story again and exactly what happened in 1972. My soul cried with you. That was so great to see you. How many times after had we hold each other tightly? It was many. You stroke my hair and told me how much you loved me. You told me how bad you had felt that you had to give me up for adoption. We did a lot during the time we were together. It was great to be with you. I did things that I thought was not possible to do; being with my biological mother and family. Finally I could tell you how much I loved you. Finally....I was home.

When I looked into your eyes for the first time, I realized what real love was. I realized that it had always existed in my life. It had always been there. Now I understood my adoptive mother’s words:

"No matter what, your Korean mother will always be there"....

Dear birthmother, you were always there to hold me. You were there to caressing me and striking my hair. I loved hearing your soft voice and when you talked to me. When you webt mother, I would so much be there to hold you and be there for you. I loved holding your hand and looking at you. It was difficult to let go of you. You know what, even though I wept, then you were there to hold me. No, you do not have to say anything. The most important thing was that you just held me. It means everything to me. To cry is a taboo but for me it is a thing which brings people close to each other. It meant a lot to me even though you did not know what to do in the first place. You found out that words did not have to be said.

Do you remember when we both wanted to stop smoking? I suddenly took our packets of cigarettes and jumped on them? I remember that clearly. You promised me no more socho, not even when I am in Denmark. Ok, I believe you and believe in your strength.

Mother, we looked like each other and we acted in almost the same way. We both do things in general without thinking twice in life. We want other people to respect us but we want to do things in our own way in life. We both cry easily in life. When I think of all this a smile is on my lips. We both liked to be independent...only if there always were people to whom we could go to and getting help when needed be. We were both very afraid of making mistakes towards each other and hurting each other’s feelings. In this task we also did things very alike. We both did not want to lose each other again. We both thought that it was difficult to look into each other’s eyes. We both tried to avoid each other’s gaze. We were both very afraid of losing each other again and therefore we tried not to make mistakes. We were also afraid if we did not do things well enough. Wow, this is caused by love and love it will always be. Life is full of mistakes. Without them the life would be boring. I still smile when I think of the good memories. Even though we come from two different cultures and mentalities, then we behave in the same way. We think in the same way; yes, great minds think alike. If I should tell you what I think about you...well...then all I can say is that you are a great mother and I love you of whole my heart. I am proud of you. I am born of a strong woman and strong you really are. My adoptive mother showed me the strength which lived inside me. She showed me the gift in life which came from you.

When I look up in the night sky today I know that my biggest dream has come true. I have not only seen my birthmother. I have also met my whole Korean family which I am very proud of. I have met my beloved grandmother. I have met my wonderful sister and brother. I am so very happy.

When I see a shooting star at the black night sky today I thank God and my adoptive father for letting my biggest dream coming true. I think of all of them who have been there to help. I think at my dear orphanage who have helped and supported me. I think of my friends and family who always are there to listen. I think of my beloved adoptive mother in Denmark and to her goes my love. I think of my fiancé. At last but not at least I think of Tae-Jin, the government officer and the reporter at Pusan Ilbo. I cannot thank them enough. By all this go my love and thanks to them all.

Now when I look at the clear night sky with the thousand of stars I know that this chapter in my book of life can be closed. All my questions have been answered. I am also proud that I have been able to go through all this and that I have had courage enough to face my unknown heritage which I both missed, loved and feared. Seeds from a silent tree have grown and a happy person I am. I have become a human being and a proud adoptee of to wonderful nations; Denmark and Korea.

Your daughter

Young-Mi