Who am I?
"Who am I?" is a question I often ask myself. Throughout my youth, I felt like I had to put in a lot of effort to fit in. I doubted myself and was unsure about the choices I made. Especially in friendships, it was important for me to belong. I was unsure if my friends really liked me and therefore often wasn't myself. As I grew older, I pushed my friends and family further away and didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. The question I really needed to ask myself was, "do I even like myself?"
After much hesitation, I decided to talk to a psychologist when I was 19. In these sessions, I began to learn more about where my feelings came from and the consequences they had on my actions. Due to the trauma of being given up by my biological mother, I unconsciously developed a defense mechanism where I wanted to prove myself to others so they would accept me for who I am. But then, who am I, and what do I truly value?
Over the years, I have learned to trust my instincts more. This has been a process of trial and error. I have often felt lonely, alone, and insecure. Fortunately, I have always had the love and trust of my parents and sisters, which has greatly helped me through difficult and beautiful times. For me, "who am I" is about recognition. Recognition of the pain and sorrow I have experienced. Recognition of the loneliness and insecurity I feel. Acknowledging that not everything will go as planned and also acknowledging that choices have been made that cannot be undone. By accepting my feelings and talking about them, it helps me to get to know myself better, however difficult that may be at times.
In recent years, I have come to know myself better and am currently happy with who I am and grateful for the family and friends I have around me. Despite this, I often feel like something is missing, something is lacking. A part of myself, a void that has not yet been filled, and a sense of completeness. I hoped that void would become clearer after meeting my biological mother, but unfortunately, she, in response to my letter, has chosen not to meet me now that I am in Taiwan. Although I had considered this as a possible response, it hurt tremendously when I heard the news, and once again, the little boy in me felt rejected by his biological mother.
Acceptance sounds easier than it is.
By acceptance, I do not mean that everything is okay and that you should just move on with your life. No. It is important to acknowledge that the pain and sorrow you feel are valid, the uncertainty that resurfaces, and the powerlessness of the choices made. You should embrace that feeling and accept that it exists. The feeling of something missing is still with me, and whether it will ever go away, I do not know. What I do know is that I am incredibly grateful for the life I have now and that my biological mother has given me that chance. The hardest thing a mother can do is give up her child after nine months, for whatever reason. That's why gratitude and sorrow are closely intertwined for me. Both are very important to me and are a big part of who I am now.
Hi, my name is Wieger Wiebe Gerrit Kuang Yao Baarda, and I am 24 years old. A lot has happened in my life, with one of the most important choices in my life being made for me at my birth. I have faced many obstacles, and there will be many more to come. Instead of proving myself to others, I now only try to prove myself to myself. Proving that I have so much more in me than I can imagine. I am grateful for the family I have been given and the friendships I have built. Every day, I understand more about myself and the world around me. It comes with ups and downs, laughter and tears, and with uncertainty and trust. I trust my instincts and know that the emptiness and uncertainty are allowed to exist because ultimately, that's what makes you who you are. I am happy with myself and I believe that if you are happy with yourself everything will find its way naturally.