The Questions That Remain
What happens when the search for answers leads to more questions? In this personal reflection, Jay explores the confusion and unanswered questions that many adoptees carry, and how learning to live with them can become part of the experience itself.
Balancing the complex reality that adoption can be both beautiful and painful is a conversation I find myself having a lot these days.
You see it in the movies all the time. People either want that heartwarming, uplifting adoption story or that tragic tale of loss that leaves you ugly crying as the credits roll up the screen. But why can’t we have both?
Well, we can.
It wasn’t until I came out of the fog, went through my adoption papers, learned about my roots and reunited with my sister that I began to understand the other side of the coin, the pain.
Before we dive too deep, let’s break down the type of pain we’re talking about...
It’s the kind of pain that makes your head spin, when your mind races but your thoughts pause. The kind of pain that presents itself at any given moment accompanied by that long, distant stare that blurs everything in sight. For me, it doesn’t come from a place of physical pain or frustration, more so from a place of confusion.
I like to use the analogy of ‘Legos in a blender.’ Imagine having a million lego pieces, each one is an emotion. Then throwing all of those pieces in a blender and turning it on for the foreseeable future. That’s what this type of confusion feels like.
It’s questions like these, amongst so many more, that churn in my mind almost daily:
What could life have been like?
Where are all the other pieces I don’t think I’ll ever find?
I wonder what she looked like?
Is my birthday my real birthday?
As adoptees, we go through things in life that most people never have to think about. The smallest sound, sight or smell can trigger feelings that we’ve worked so hard to hide, process or understand. Overhearing someone talk about family, the day they were born or even just the simplicity of seeing a baby with their mother are small reminders that our experiences were different.
But like I mentioned before, there is a beauty to the pain that keeps poking at the heart. I find that the traumatic experiences open a door into such self reflection, allowing us to be so in touch with ourselves and our emotions. Sometimes you just need to allow yourself to see it that way. I’ve learned to see it all as the gift that unanswered questions bring rather than the burden that I was once forced to carry.
Pura Vida
Jay Barbanel
Born in Costa Rica, Jay was adopted by a family in the United States after spending time in an orphanage. Separated from his brother at age seven, he grew up with many questions about his identity and family. As an adult, he reunited with his brother, explored his adoption records, and returned to Costa Rica to learn more about his roots. His debut memoir, Finding Tico, was released in April 2026.
