To my birth father,

Okay. In a lot of stories I’ve read about adoption, fictional or not, it’s the birth father who has the most explaining to do. Now, I’m not accusing you of having done anything bad, it’s just that I have reservations toward you cause there’s a lot of toxic masculinity in China. Nothing personal.

When I think of dads I picture your typical caucasian man from North America. He usually has a good job and a couple of kids, and he lives with all of them in a big house, sometimes with a cat, dog, or both.

These are the kinds of expectations white culture tends to instill in you. Of course, this is only one version; there are lots of different dads over here. We’ve got dads who have wives or girlfriends (not usually at the same time, though), dads with boyfriends or husbands (also, usually not at the same time), single dads, stepdads, grandads, etc. We’ve got it all.

My dad’s called Hallam, but people call him Hal. He is your average white middle-class father. He’s got a wife, two daughters, and a cat. He likes to be social, spending time with his family and friends.

His side of the family is big: lots of siblings and cousins, aunts and uncles. Not as big as your average Chinese family before the One Child Policy, though, but big enough to sometimes need a 24 lb turkey at Christmas!

My dad was the one I was really close to when I was younger. Somewhere along the line I grew closer to my mum, probably on account of us both being female. I mean, whenever I bring up bras and periods his face turns red and he leaves the conversation. Heh.

But Dad’s the one who I’d call any time I’d scream at a fly on the wall or a spider on the ceiling. He once caught a mouse that had strayed into our house and released it back outside. He’s the one who got rid of wasp nests hanging over our patio so I we could all go outside safely.

Aside from being our pest control person, Dad’s the guy I ask when I have math problems. He doesn’t know everything, which younger me told him on multiple occasions (he thought it was hilarious), but he knows enough to help me get back on track again.

I might not be able to talk girl stuff with him, but I know he’s always going to be there for me. He and Mum are the first ones to come if I call for help. He’ll drive through a blizzard to get to me if I’m in trouble.

That’s my impression of what a father should be.

I was going to save writing this letter until Father’s Day, but I don’t know how long we’ll be doing this. Who knows? By then we might’ve already met.

Anyway, I hope that if or when I meet you, my birth father, you won’t turn me away. This is a fear adoptees have about their birth parents, that they’re not wanted.

For whatever reason you and my birth mother decided to give me away. I just hope that upon meeting you again you’ll give me a chance to get to know you, and you’ll try to get to know me. Then, if you’re one of the birth fathers who doesn’t want me in your life, you’ll never have to see me again.

But please, please try.

Is that too much to ask?

Sincerely,

Lillian