How I Met My Mother

How I Met My Mother

I remember clearly the first time I met my mother. I was nearly seven years old—a mixed-race Korean child of a prostitute and an American GI—when I was adopted into a Swedish American family with four existing biological children. I remember suddenly being very frightened. I realized that somewhere outside of my plane waited complete strangers who would have total power over me. I would be alone with no one whom I knew to turn to, in a land that was strange beyond my understanding, where I spoke not one word of the language. This reality closed its fist around my heart and squeezed, shooting up my pulse and my runaway terror. 

Read More