William the Bastard

     

William The Bastard 

My Adoptee Adventure

By : Will Trotti

A bastard is often depicted as a child that was created from an affair or wedlock. Some definitions say it's a person that's just despicable or distasteful. I don't mind accepting any of those personally and smiling a little bit. I've always prided myself in being a bit different and somewhat odd from the rest of the people my age. I didn't like the thought of fitting in with everyone like a cookie cutter drone coming off of a factory line. It's kind of interesting to think that I am actually one of a kind. I'm the only child that my mother and father had together and their last as well.

I was two years old, and I was placed with an amazing family. This little blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy now had a dad who was a hairy Italian that wanted to fix everything and get the cheapest price, and an Irish mom who loves cooking with potatoes and make lots of casserole. No complaints there. 

My adopted dad taught me how to be a handyman, how to look for the best deals in life, and how to conduct myself as a chivalrous gentleman treating women with the utmost respect because- they deserve it.

My adopted mom was also my school teacher, taught me anything I know academically up through high school when I joined the military. She was definitely not a woman to be messed with, much like many Irish people you know. The respect I have for both of my parents for taking this strange little blonde boy in and making him part of the family, is a respect that I'll have for the rest of my life. I was also able to inherit two sisters, both dark brown eyes and almost black hair with the Italian fire of Rocky Balboa. I was so scared, lost, confused, and curious as to how these people worked, as I watched from an early age and observed everything around me. It was where my curious mind honestly started. I loved my interesting childhood, being the entertainment of the family. I can only imagine the shock and surprise as I entered the family and was thrust into it head on. All my Aunts, Uncles, grandparents, nieces, and nephews that adopted me were probably just as curious as to who I was. I can imagine them just staring at this little boy running around and wondering how I was enjoying my new life. I'm sure they were just as curious as I was and we were all in a state of exploring each other, figuring out what this relationship and what the family dynamic was going to be like. 

One of the first people that didn't have this kind of experience would be my little sister Natalie. As soon as she was born in '89 when I was already 5 years old, I took to her immediately as someone I needed to protect and watch over, I wanted her to go with me on every single adventure, I wanted to have her be my buddy like some kind of '90s buddy cop movie. Her and I got along so well that we became the best of friends throughout our childhood. We talked and hung out, played Legos, shot slingshots, went camping, fishing and did so many different kinds of adventures together, those kinds of memories will always be fond within my heart forever. She knows this very much too. It was really hard leaving for the military at 17. I could see the toll it was taking on her, how much it must have been like a vacuum when I left. That being said, she is a resilient Italian Irish girl that pushed forward, found her niche as a teenager, and ended up being the only sister that went to college. I couldn't be more proud of that woman.

Although very grateful, like many kids that were adopted, growing up being adopted and always knowing I was so- was definitely a struggle with identity. It was something that I didn't have the background of culture, heritage, traits, or belonging like most kids do. Family similarities, lookalikes, and genealogy similarities never really rang a bell in my mind, in the past I had never found that special place in my heart. Things like watching your family have habits and health problems were heritances that adopted kids never get the privilege of feeling. There is that distinct warm kindred feeling knowing that you are blood related to the people around you in a family holiday. Instead, it almost feels like you're always abandoned. You know you weren't wanted at one point and that feeling was very strong whether you were young or old, you always felt it. Adopted kids often feel that sense of being alone and not having your parents or parents around you constantly like most kids do. It's always a feeling of being out of place. As adopted kids do feel loved, they don't feel completely %100 connected, nor feel that strong unbound connection with their parents- the ones that adopted them. They are so grateful in return but always feel like they have a missing piece to their personality. Oftentimes adopted kids have expressed a sense of guilt that they "owe'' something to the ones that adopted them. Constantly feeling indebted to the people, but what they also feel grateful for is a conflicting feeling that most adopted kids never resolve within themselves. Often, it will lead to growing older as an adult, and not liking favors, or anything kind or nice done for them. 

I've heard stories of people expressing how they can feel their parent's pain or agony when they're hundreds of miles away. It's like a sixth sense that they just knew that they were in emotional pain. I've never felt that sense of overwhelming emotion come over me like that, both of my birth parents have since passed and maybe I was feeling it while they were still alive, however I didn't know it at the time. This, for many adopted kids- gives them a tendency to put up high walls emotionally, because when they start feeling that towards another person in their adult life- its foriegn and frightening. It took me many years of looking within myself to recognize the fact that I was leaning towards this trait before I was able to stop it. I can't even remember the amount of times I've been told by new friends and strangers and family that I seem very hard to get to know. This is something that I am subconsciously very aware that I do. Guarding myself from letting people in, I put up those high walls because I was scared of rejection.

 Imagine always wanting to be part of the cool kids group, but really never being able to be joined into that group because there's a puzzle piece missing. Morning habits, daily rituals, conversations and customs in the family reunions, those are moments adoptees stand to the side and sometimes think "I'm going to join along with the motions, but at the same time I don't exactly feel like it's me"  Adopted kids feel out of place with no sense of belonging- but at the same time  extremely welcomed with open loving and accepting arms. Most people can identify with going to a social funcion that you accidentally ended up at, and they let you stay anyway. Luckily I was adopted at such a young age, that I barely felt this feeling of displacement. I was almost 2- so I was able to bond with both sides of my adopted family easily. 

As adopted kids get older they realize they never really found their Identity. Figuring out what they want to be or who they want to be, what kind of person they want to be perceived as is part of figuring out the identity in life. This all stems from the fact that when they were once adopted they lost their identity, they lost that sense of self and background with their genealogy being broken off so-to-speak. The ancestors and the bloodlines that had traditions for hundreds of years now stop with that adopted person. Although they might try to force themselves into these new adopted traditions and ways of life, it feels like putting on shoes that are the wrong size. Sure you can do it but it feels extremely uncomfortable and not quite right. So when an adoptee rediscovers their culture and ethinic heritage- it's like finding a cherished treasure. It's fascinating, it's beautiful, and it feels as close as finding blood relatives.

As adoptees get older and they get into more adult responsibilities, life, home, and jobs, there is a problem of Mastery Control. Power struggles with authority due to not having the option of getting displaced as a child causes adopted kids to have problems with compatibility in their adult lives. At one point they didn't ask to be thrown out of their families and placed with another, they didn't ask to lose their birth parents and siblings and go live with strangers. With that feeling of never having control over their own life and future, they have a subconscious feeling of anger towards people in control and authority. Oftentimes, people assume that because the child was misplaced with different foster care homes, that's what makes them a terrible "misfit" undisciplined child with behavioral problems. In reality, the child is just tired of being told who to be and where to live when they never got to be just like every other child and have some of the same choices that other children got to have. They had someone placed over them in an authoritative figure and they had no choice but to obey. Only once they accept the unique part of their identity, that they can enjoy being one of a kind. Some adoptees do not want to be unique, they want to be like every other child out there- and strive for that feeling their whole life.

This in turn portrays itself in the career of the adopted child as an adult. Statistics have shown that the once adopted child, as an adult, has a problem with authority and the supervisors. If the adoptee does not confront these issues and face them head-on, as well as repair them psychologically, they will see a future with more problems portrayed through all of the aspects of their life whether it is with medical professionals, teachers, adopted parents, older siblings, ect.

I went from being adopted at 2 years old and being raised by the most amazing Christian Italian Irish family with Five Sisters to getting to the point where I had three kids at 35 years old and still not understanding my own identity. It was definitely an identity crisis through those years. While I am very good at internalizing all my thoughts and examining myself, it took me quite a while and a specific job where I was left alone for hours at a time to really identify the fact that I had an identity crisis. That's when I made the decision to try and take the DNA tests.

Through this DNA test I was able to locate my birth family, I was able to find out, decipher, and after a long line of investigating- interviewing, and emailing hundreds of people finally figuring out where I came from and what happened when I was born. There was a huge sense of relief from just knowing the basic story, and even more relief when I was able to meet up and talk to, and even befriend a lot of my now blood relatives. It gave me a sense of hope and feeling of placement in the world that I had been missing for roughly 33 years.

I was placed with a dream family, literally absolutely the most amazing family any adoptee in the 80s could have asked for. There was no drugs or alcohol, no horrible run-ins with the law, no disgusting homes or horrid situations that would warrant me to hate my life, I was given the opportunity to be raised in a very religious home with some very caring parents that were doing their best to watch over this strange little two year old boy that entered your life out of nowhere.

I cannot emphasize how much I am aware that I was lucky to get the family that I did. If I had stayed with my birth parents and they had not passed away I'm fairly certain I would have gotten into some very hairy situations, possibly law-breaking situations in my life. My life would not be anywhere near as safe as it was throughout my childhood.

So as they did absolutely nothing wrong and while there were ups and downs as any family, they are definitely not the reason for any identity crisis within my head or my heart. All adopted kids go through situations like this where they may have the most amazing loving family but genetically there is something not quite fitting perfectly and our subconscious knows it, it is telling us until we finally confront it.

In the past couple years I've been doing a lot of my genetic and ancestry research while posting a lot of it on social media. I have had the occasional person ask me why I seem so 'obsessed' with this kind of thing and why can't I 'just let it go' ? That's one of the main factors I wanted to use in writing this article. It's extremely important that people out there know what adoptees go through, what us adopted kids feel, and how this life that we were thrown into affects us both positively and negatively. Finding my Heritage and DNA through the ancestry website, the 23andMe, and four other tests that I was able to upload my DNA to- I was able to cross-reference several different DNA types with historical figures that I was related to, I found nationalities that I matched with while able to map out in the exact version of the person or identity that I would have felt growing up in a structured family that was blood related to me.

While doing this research I always found myself imagining customs, traditions, family parties, and other things that I would have experienced with my blood relatives. I look at the things that they're doing now and the things they've done in the past as far as what kind of family picnics or parties they had and what kind of conditions they talked about- and could pretty vividly imagine my life in that situation. Although it's not the perfect substitute for the real thing, it's pretty much the most happy medium I could possibly find. I am so unbelievably thankful that I'm able to reconnect with my genetic relatives in a very heartfelt and passionate way. It's been one of the most amazing experiences of this entire heritage and ancestry project that I've been working on. I am so elated that I am building a relationship with my blood relatives now in my life as an adult. The Droskiewicz and Sesterhenn sides have been nothing but loving, and welcomed me with open arms, a feeling and experience that some people are not lucky enough to get.

I learned through all my research that the ancestry website is a database of people mostly in America, and in that respect it also doesn't take in account some of the DNA that might be  cross-referenced with the wrong ethnicity. For my whole life I was sure I was part Scandinavian. Everything lined up, my hair, eyes, my attitude, height, the way I held myself together, and when I took the ancestry DNA test it gave me no Scandinavian to which I was extremely surprised. While I paid for 2 genetic tests, there are roughly 10 more online that will allow someone to upload the DNA file to the website so that it can be compared to a different gene pool, and it is free. While doing so, I was able to cross reference my DNA to 5 different gene pools. As I looked into the migration, history, skin eye and hair color, as well as burials among other things, It was clear I was very Scandinavian.

Then my birth father's sister, my Aunt Brenda also took the test as well as taking it on several other websites and she got a very high percentage of Scandinavian. This led me to believe that there was something in the test that did not quite match up. It turns out with my 100% European genes, my DNA matches better with taking an ancestry test with 'My Heritage' instead of 'Ancestry'. The company My Heritage's gene pool is collected mostly of Europeans and there I was able to decipher how much more clear the representation of who I was. It was one of the most amazing and rewarding yet solidifying feelings I've ever had. Knowing that I am related to ancient Vikings, even one extremely famous viking burial of a female Viking Warrior, was a feeling that I can only begin to try to explain as blissful.

Every time I dove more and more into Scandinavia I felt more alive and connected with a beautiful culture that was so far away and I had never set foot in. Everything from the Swedish Dalecarlian horses carved from a single piece of wood since the beginning of Sweden, to Midsummer and the celebrations of having warm weather in a bleak dark winter. The Norwegian potato lefse that's much like a tortilla, as well as the ties of Norway to Norse mythology. Finland and they're slightly Russian attitude towards life as well, and the ice baths followed by the hot saunas, something most of Scandinavia does. I admire and connect with how they like to head towards something that's uncomfortable for the long game of having a healthier lifestyle.   

I'm absolutely fascinated with Scandinavian culture, the way they raise their children to be humble and not selfish. The feeling they have toward  unknown people and not speaking to strangers in public (even going so far as to avoid people in the hallway by waiting in their apartment until they stop hearing footsteps) Many Scandinavian cities believe that a child should not even start going to school until they are near seven or eight years old, arguing the fact that the child won't gather much information when any younger. Norse feel strongly about having kids go outside more than having them in front of a digital screen. Many schools will have recess in snowy, cold and weather that different cultures throughout the world would consider unpleasant. This is all in hopes of helping their babies' immune system, children are often left in their strollers out in the cold weather while bundled up, allowing them to breathe in the crisp cold air and therefore giving them a boost in their immune system.

Hygge: (pronounced hue-guh not hoo-gah) Is a Danish word used when acknowledging a feeling or moment, whether alone or with friends, at home or out, ordinary or extraordinary as cosy, charming or special.

Jantelagen: (or Jante's law) Is an unspoken societal rule that exists in Sweden and a lot of the Nordics, It’s about not being too flashy, not bragging unnecessarily, and it's a way of kind of keeping everybody – for the most part – equal... to remove sources of stress within group settings.

Lagom: There are a few different interpretations but it's something along the lines of just right or not too much, eating in moderation, living in moderation, not sticking out, compromising in life and being content with what you have, settling for neither less nor more in life as such.

While I'll always be a true "gun-ho" full-blooded patriotic American, serving this country proudly at one point, I can see where America is a younger country compared to countries in Europe that have been in place for thousands of years. There are some things that could possibly be taken from these cultures to help people in the long run all over the world.

As I figured more out about my life and look inside myself to figure out the feelings I was going through throughout my whole childhood, trying to piece together different situations in my life and how I got there, also trying to figure out where those situations originated I got onto the subject of my two divorces.after a lot of soul-searching and figuring out where my brain and heart had led me throughout the years during my time in the military when I left home at Seventeen, it was clear that I had a bit of a complex regarding my birth mother. Knowing that she had given me up for adoption, although the most loving thing she could have done, I always felt a little bit abandoned. As I got older and moved out on my own, trying to find my place in the world I found myself getting attached to any female that would give me positive attention, and attached to strongly immediately. I certainly wish I had figured this out before my divorces, but unfortunately that's how life goes, you get lessons and you learn them the hard way. I realize now in retrospect that I was subconsciously going after women that I wanted to fix. Broken women that had poor relationships with their fathers and ones that I feel like I could "repair" just like I always wanted to repair my own birth mother. I wanted to be able to fix the fact that she abandoned me, subconsciously I was going through all these emotions and had no idea for roughly 15 years, one divorce down and I went for another relationship years later, found yet, another woman that I wanted to fix and was completely unaware of my emotional intentions with the relationship. It was only after the second divorce that I had a lot of soul-searching as an empath and disconnecting myself from someone that was a narcissist and what happened to me emotionally. I then pieced together a lot of pieces of the puzzle and realized that I was having a lot of old bitter feelings towards my birth mother. I immediately sought to resolve those within myself before going into the next relationship. I am proud to say that not only have I forgiven my birth parents, but I am now at peace, and I cherish their part in my life. 

I Understand why my birth parents did what they did. Although it breaks my heart that Karl and Shirley were haunted by their demons of alcohol, they gave it a real try. As I did my research, I found out that not only did they live together for a period of time, my mother gave up alcohol to breastfeed me in my first year. It's amazing to now have the first pictures I have ever seen of myself as a baby, with my birth parents holding me. I obviously wasn't planned, as my mother had another married name at the time of my birth, but they loved me all the same. The choice of my mother to voluneteerily give me up for adoption must have been torture. But it was told to me that she was going through very hard emotional times, and knew she was going to start drinking again. It was amazing to find an official document of recorded visits from my mother while I was in the orphanage. She really did care about and love me so much. and that was a key fact in finding peace with the entire situation. Although they have both already passed away, I would like to think I will live on in their memory ( as will their other kids) breaking the chains of addiction, and living a fruitful and productive life. I am making them proud everyday , and I will continue to do so with the memory of them lovingly in my heart.

If adoptees do not confront the feelings they have of bitterness towards their birth parents they will never be able to fully heal and move on in their lives with a healthy relationship with themselves and with a significant other, not to mention their children. As adoptees, we are given the burden to repair the damage made, break the chain of broken relationships, and start fresh anew. It's actually a really fun opportunity- once the adopted kid or adult realizes that they have a chance to start a whole new chapter for themselves, everything can be rewritten and now they have complete control like they didn't have a long time ago. Adoptees simply need to look inside themselves, imagine who or what they want to be in life and no matter how late it is in the game, go for it with all their heart.

As I got older and moved out on my own I would find that distancing myself from those around me gave me peace and Solitude. I realized quickly that I was just a very quiet artistic person that needed my own space and only could socialize on my own time. Every single time I moved from one location to another- like the Gypsy that I was, I would purposely go for a walk the night I moved into my place. It was the most peaceful part of moving and I actually started to look forward to these somber "walkabouts" through my new living area or town. One walk in general sticks out to me as one of my most special. Moving to North Dakota at 17 years old I was definitely a little bit scared being so far from home. Having been homeschooled and never really left home for more than a couple days at a time, it was a bit of a shock to me. I arrived in North Dakota and moved into my dorm three days before Thanksgiving of 2001. Trying to find my happy place in this new world I looked outside to see a thin layer of snow I just freshly fallen on the ground. Being Scandinavian, I had always been a fan of snow and the cold and found that oddly enough I never really was cold, it was very hard for me to actually get cold even in some of the most freezing temperatures. This walk was one of my first of many walks that helped me accept my new home that I had just procured. I grabbed my jacket and started walking at 11 p.m. at night while the snow gently fell across the air base. I just started walking, it was so unbelievably peaceful. I was walking through the night and it was silent and blissful beyond words. I knew then and there that I was on the start of a journey that was going to be amazing, yet hard. I remember thinking about how my life's journey had led to this point. an adopted boy of two alcoholics, raised in a homeschooled religious home with 5 sisters, and joining the military. As I walked through the silent night, I remember think " I wonder what my family is doing right now?" I imagined they were up to their same old routines, and that gave me more warmth that I already had. My adopted family is such an amazing bunch. I knew that most of my sisters were probably doing their " girly things " in their room, while my mom was most likely working on a craft, or a new dance routine for her dance studio. My dad was likely cleaning or trying to find something to fix. These people raised me, and I knew I will be forever grateful. As I walked through the night ( getting slightly lost- gladly) I was excited and scared all at the same time. I knew that I had a choice of letting the fear control me or letting it be a part of my strength. So while walking around in the snow in the middle of the night in North Dakota at 17 years old, I decided if anything causes my heart rate to elevate or rapidly increase, because of fear- I was going to use that adrenaline to fuel me to run towards my fears.

The only walk that would be second to the North Dakota walk, was getting severly lost in San Francisco when I moved there to attend film school. It was one of my first weekends, and I had to explore. However, by the time I decided to turn around and head back to my dorm, it was getting dark. I did not realize I had gotten so far away, but I started the trek back. I Specifically remember power walking though desolate and empty streets at night, sometime just past midnight. I was past the point of exploring and relaxation. It was now  slight "panic mode" and I had no smartphone at the time to help guide me. After a couple hours of using the Bay, moon ( I'm not kidding) and what looked like familiar buildings, I finally came upon the top of Lombard street. 

The famous winding sharp curved street that went down a 27 degree slope. It was at this point I could see most of the area that my dorm was at, and a lot of the main city. I took a deep breath of relief as I could clearly see the route I was going to take to my dorm. I then relaxed again, and was able to soak in the moment in the perfect 70 degree weather San Francisco had to offer on a clear night. As I looked down Lombard street, my heart raced with excitement. It is incredibly steep and beautifully built. After taking my moment to look over the city, like a king in his tower looking down on the kingdom, I took off running down the street. I can only imagine anyone that looked out their window to see this college kid smiling from ear to ear as he ran down a street. I was invigorating. 

Throughout my time traveling around, with the military, school, or for other reasons I had managed to live in approximately fifteen different cities,five different states, and visited four countries. It was the most amazing experience of my life but I was starting to feel a little bit like a gypsy with no roots and no place to hold on to and call home. One thing I noticed was that in every other country besides America every country spoke English as well as their native tongue and a couple others, but America rarely speaks any other language but English. Other countries are humble, not as flashy and proud of any of their achievements, they're not as dramatic, most of them don't have a big flashy Hollywood like we do. I suspect this is all because we are a young country and we still have a lot to learn, but it definitely helped me understand why America isn't exactly the most popular country to some people throughout the world.

"But hold me fast, hold me fast

'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

And hold me fast, hold me fast

'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

I wrestled long with my youth

We tried so hard to live in the truth

But do not tell me all is fine

When I lose my head, I lose my spine

So leave that click in my head

And I won't remember the words that you said

You brought me out from the cold

Now, how I long, how I long to grow old"

    This song called Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford & Sons has become a staple in my life. I've been listening to it for close to ten years and I have never gotten sick of it. It speaks volumes to me because I connect with it like a gypsy connects to their caravan. For years I was constantly trying to find my place in the world and I found myself being a Hopeless Wanderer. Never really feeling comfortable about staying in one place and that was a conflicting feeling inside of me. I knew I couldn't do it forever and as soon as I realized that I wanted to make sure I put down roots somewhere so that my kids can grow up in a stable environment.

    That's what adoptees need. They need to be reassured that they are not accidents, because they're going to strive their entire life searching for that answer. They need a stable environment that gives them a place in the world. It may be a lot of hard work and determination, but if they want it badly enough, they will lead a successful, and happy life. In today's day and age, people can do all the research for next to nothing via the internet. and there is no reason why any adoptee can't find that place in the world that makes them happy. Just buckle down and chase it. Don't give up, you have a clean slate to make this life what you want.