Adoptive parents, has your kid ever completely broken down?

The Decision to Be Strangers

Adoptive parents, has your kid ever crashed out? I was at our son Kian’s birthday dinner at this all you can eat sushi place he’d wanted to try for months when he dropped the bomb on me and my wife.

He told me, “I found my birth parents, Derek and Crystal Sanders. They want to meet me”.

My wife Rosie smiled. “That’s wonderful, honey”.

“We always said we’d support you if I’m moving in with them after I turn 18,” she continued.

Kian interrupted. “They’re my real parents. You guys are just placeholders”.

The chopsticks slipped from my hand. We’d adopted Kon when he was six and raised him for 10 years.

Rosy’s voice cracked, “Keon, what are you talking about?”.

“You’re not my real parents,” he said, not even looking up from his sushi. “I’ve been thinking about it. You’re just strangers who the state assigned to raise me”.

“Derek and Crystal, they’re my blood. My actual family,” he declared. “They made me and I owe them everything. I don’t owe you anything. Not love, not respect, nothing”.

Rosie started crying. “But we love you.” “That’s your choice. I never asked for it,” Kian responded.

“You’re not my real mom and dad. You’re just nobodyies I got stuck with”.

I took my wife’s hand and spoke. “Okay, Ken. If we’re strangers, then we’ll be strangers”.

Rosie looked at me shocked, but I smiled at her. Kian laughed, “Glad you get it. I’m meeting my real parents tomorrow”.

“Fine,” I responded. “But strangers don’t live here for free”.

“Rents $500 a month. Due immediately”.

The next morning, Kian needed a ride to meet Derek and Crystal. “Dad, can you—” “I’m not your dad and I don’t drive strangers around”.

“It’s two hours away.” “Not my problem”. He took an Uber, which cost him $120 from his college savings.

When he got back, he was glowing. “Derek played football. Crystal’s an artist. They said I have their jeans, their talents. They get me”.

“Cool. Where’s your rent?” I asked. “What?” You said we’re strangers.

“Strangers pay rent. $500,” I stated. “I don’t have $500.” “Better get a job then”.

“Also, you need to buy your own food now. Strangers don’t share groceries”.

Keon had a basketball tournament that weekend; college scouts were coming. “Can you drive me to the tournament?”.

“Why would I drive a stranger to basketball?” I asked. “You’ve driven me for 10 years.” “That was when you were my son. Now you’re just a tenant. Take the bus”.

He missed warm-ups. Coach benched him. Scouts left at halftime.

His college applications were due in 2 weeks. He needed parent recommendation letters.

“Can you write my parent recommendation?” “I’m not your parent. Ask Derek and Crystal”.

“They don’t know me.” “Not my problem. They’re your real parents”.

Derek and Crystal couldn’t write anything substantial. They didn’t know his grades, his activities, nothing.

The guidance counselor called confused. “KK’s parents haven’t submitted recommendations”.

“We’re not his parents,” I explained. “He made that very clear. He said, ‘We’re strangers.’ His real parents are Derek and Crystal Sanders”.

When Kian got strep throat, he needed antibiotics. “Can you take me to urgent care?”.

“I don’t take strangers to doctors,” I replied. “Besides, I removed you from my insurance. You’re Derek and Crystal’s responsibility”.

“What?” I continued, “Strangers don’t share health insurance”.

The visit would cost $300 without insurance. Derek and Crystal didn’t answer their phones for 3 days.

His National Honor Society induction required parent attendance. Rosie and I didn’t go.

“We’re not your parents,” Rosie reminded him. Derek and Crystal promised to come.

They never showed. Kon stood alone while every other kid had family there.

The adviser whispered, “Where are your parents?” “Getting high, probably,” Kian mumbled.

Prom was coming. Kon needed $300 for tickets, tux rental, dinner.

“Can I borrow?” I said, “I don’t lend money to strangers. Especially strangers who made it clear they owe me nothing”.

He didn’t go to prom. He sat home looking at Instagram photos of his teammates.

His college fund, $80,000 we’d saved since he was seven, remained locked. “That money was for our son,” I explained.

“You’re not our son. You’re Derek and Crystal’s son”.

“They don’t have any money.” “Not our problem. We’re just strangers, remember?”.