Ekaterina's Story

I was adopted from Russia just two days before my sixteenth birthday. I still speak Russian and try my best to hold on to that part of myself. I had lived in shelters and orphanages for as long as I can remember, so for me, adjusting to a “normal” environment was the biggest shock of all.

Finding my place was incredibly difficult. Learning a new language and starting school with no English felt overwhelming, but I insisted on going anyway, even when my parents tried to talk me out of it. I wanted to belong. I wanted to move forward, even if I didn’t yet know how. As someone who has seen newborn babies get adopted and as someone who was adopted later in life, I want to share something that often goes unspoken.

The babies I saw who were waiting to be adopted were cared for, and many of the teachers showed extra kindness to the youngest ones. Often, children end up in orphanages not because they weren’t loved, but because their parents were unable to care for them — financially, emotionally, or mentally. Orphanages are not easy places, but in many ways they become a kind of family. The children bond over shared experiences and shared pain, and that connection can be powerful.

If you were adopted, you were given a second chance at life. That doesn’t erase where you came from, but it does open the door to something new. Carrying both your past and your future is not a weakness, it’s a strength.