Split at the Root: Why Adoptees Are Fighting to Change the Narrative

Split at the Root: Why Adoptees Are Fighting to Change the Narrative

Identity is a messy thing. For most people, it's a straight line. You’re born to people, you look like them, and you carry their history in your DNA without thinking twice about it. But for those of us in the adoption community, that line is often jagged. It’s broken. When we talk about being split at the root, we aren’t just being poetic. We’re talking about the fundamental psychic fracture that happens when a child is separated from their biological origins.

It's deep. It's visceral. And honestly, it's something the "happily ever after" adoption industry doesn't really like to talk about.

The Reality of the Primal Wound

There’s this term coined by Nancy Verrier in her seminal work, The Primal Wound. She argues that the severance of the bond between the infant and the biological mother is a physical and emotional trauma that leaves a permanent mark. Some people push back on this. They say, "How can a baby remember?" But the body keeps the score. Bessel van der Kolk literally wrote the book on that. Even if the conscious mind doesn't have words for it, the nervous system remembers the loss of the only heartbeat, scent, and voice it knew for nine months.

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Being split at the root means growing up in a world where your reflection doesn't match anyone else in the room. You’re a transplant.

Think about a tree. If you rip a sapling out of the ground and put it in new soil, it might grow. It might even thrive. But the original root system was left behind, and the scar where it was severed remains part of the tree’s anatomy forever. That’s the nuance people miss. You can love your adoptive parents with everything you have—most of us do—and still feel the ache of that original severance. It isn't an either/or situation. It's both.

Why "Coming Home" is a Complicated Concept

We see the videos all the time on TikTok and Instagram. The "reunion" videos. Soft music, tears, long hugs at airport terminals. They're beautiful, sure. But they're also kinda dangerous because they suggest that finding your biological family is the "fix" for being split at the root.

It’s rarely that simple.

When an adoptee finds their biological parents, they aren't just meeting people. They are meeting ghosts. They are meeting the "what ifs" of a life they never got to lead. Sometimes, the rejection happens all over again. Other times, the biological family is wonderful, but the guilt of "betraying" the adoptive parents eats the adoptee alive. It's a high-stakes emotional minefield that requires a level of psychological stamina most people aren't prepared for.

Dr. Adrienne Bolton, an expert in transracial adoption, often points out that for children of color adopted into white families, this split is even more pronounced. You aren't just split from your family; you're split from your culture, your language, and your history. You're navigating a white world with a white family while wearing a face that the world treats differently than it treats your parents. That is a heavy lift for a kid.

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You’d think that in 2026, everyone would have the right to know who they are. Nope. Not even close.

In many parts of the United States and the UK, original birth certificates (OBCs) are still sealed. When an adoption is finalized, the original document is often tucked away in a vault, and a "mended" birth certificate is issued. This new document lists the adoptive parents as the birth parents. It's a legal fiction.

Basically, the state tells the adoptee that their history started the day they were adopted.

This is where the concept of being split at the root moves from a feeling to a legal reality. Organizations like the Adoptee Rights Law Center are constantly fighting to unseal these records. Why? Because medical history matters. Because knowing your heritage isn't a "gift" you should have to earn—it’s a human right.

Imagine going to the doctor and having to check "unknown" for every single hereditary disease. It’s not just frustrating; it’s life-threatening.

Moving Toward Holistic Healing

So, how do you heal a split that happened at the very beginning of your life?

You don't "fix" it. You integrate it.

The goal isn't to pretend the split didn't happen. It’s to acknowledge the fracture and build a life that honors both the roots that were left behind and the soil you’re currently growing in. This is why adoptee-only spaces are so vital. When you spend your whole life being the "only one" in the room who feels this way, walking into a space where everyone "gets it" is transformative.

We need to stop demanding that adoptees be "grateful." Gratitude is a heavy burden to place on a child for the simple act of being cared for. Instead, we should be asking for honesty.

Actionable Steps for Adoptees and Families

If you are navigating the complexities of being split at the root, or if you are supporting someone who is, here are some ways to ground yourself:

  • Seek Adoptee-Competent Therapy: Not all therapists understand the specific nuances of adoption trauma. Look for practitioners who specialize in "relinquishment trauma" rather than just general family counseling.
  • Order Your DNA Kit (Cautiously): Services like 23andMe or Ancestry can provide the medical answers the state refuses to give. However, be prepared for the "matching" feature. It can open doors you might not be ready to walk through yet.
  • Validate the Ambivalence: It is okay to be happy you were adopted and devastated that you had to be. Holding two conflicting truths at once is the hallmark of the adoptee experience.
  • Build a "Chosen" Heritage: If biological roots are inaccessible or toxic, focus on cultural reclamation. Learn the language of your ancestors. Cook the food. Own the history that was supposed to be yours.
  • Advocate for Legislative Change: Support organizations that work to unseal records. Your identity shouldn't be a state secret.

The journey of the adoptee isn't about finding a "real" family—it's about finding a real self. It’s about taking the two halves of a life that was split at the root and stitching them together into something whole, something resilient, and something uniquely yours. You don't owe anyone a "happy" story. You only owe yourself the truth.

Start by acknowledging the gap. Then, slowly, begin to bridge it on your own terms.