My name is Jenn, and I found out I was adopted when I was around nine years old. It hit me hard \u2014 like a ton of bricks \u2014 but it also explained things I had felt for years. The sense of not belonging anywhere. The way my grandmother on my dad\u2019s side treated me and my brother differently. The trips to Kentucky where we were always the ones cleaning and doing dishes. The hollow feeling inside that I could never quite name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Growing up, I struggled to connect with people. I was quiet, did poorly in school, and never had many friends. If I sensed things were about to change or go wrong, I ran. It was my safety mechanism \u2014 leave before anything could hurt me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even with all of that, I had the most loving adoptive parents. I couldn\u2019t have hand\u2011picked better ones. But by the time I was twelve or thirteen, I started rebelling against everyone and everything. I made life harder for myself because there was so much I didn\u2019t understand. The abandonment, the detachment, the constant wondering why someone would give up a baby \u2014 and whether something was wrong with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I knew from the moment I learned I was adopted that I would search someday. Waiting those eight or nine years until I was old enough felt endless. Life got in the way, so I didn\u2019t start until I was around twenty\u2011eight, but once I did, it consumed me. My adoption was closed, so I knew it wouldn\u2019t be easy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After what felt like an eternity of registries, groups, and dead ends, I finally received my non\u2011identifying information. Opening that envelope was overwhelming \u2014 I was shaking. For the first time, I held something concrete about where I came from: what they looked like, medical history, pieces of a story I had lived without.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My adoptive parents had always said they supported me searching, but they never helped. I think they felt threatened. But when I showed my mom the non\u2011ID info, something shifted. She saw how determined I was, how much it meant to me, and she finally shared something she had kept to herself: she had once seen the last name on the adoption paperwork.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That changed everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went to the vital records office, pulled marriage records from around the time I was born, and there it was \u2014 the name. What she thought was Martinelli<\/em> turned out to be Martellini<\/em>. The witness on the certificate was her sister. I found her. I found a phone number. And after what felt like forever, I picked up the phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She knew who I was immediately. My biological mom had never kept me a secret. We talked, and that weekend I drove to her house \u2014 only forty\u2011five minutes away. Waiting for that day was one of the hardest waits of my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I arrived, she called her sister \u2014 my biological mom. She lived in another state, but she got on a plane the very next day so we could meet. That was the greatest day of my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I learned I had four sisters and a brother. I learned she never wanted to give me up \u2014 she was forced to. I learned she had always loved me and wondered where I was. I learned that she wasn\u2019t supposed to see me after birth, but she ended up giving birth in the front seat of a 1963 Thunderbird, holding me until they reached the hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I met my biological dad\u2019s family too \u2014 grandparents, aunts, uncles. They recognized me instantly. They said I looked just like him. He was living in another country at the time, but he got on a plane to meet me as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One moment I\u2019ll never forget: at my grandfather\u2019s birthday dinner, he stood up, walked over to me, and said, \u201cThis is the best birthday present I could have ever gotten \u2014 another granddaughter,\u201d in his thick Italian accent, then kissed me on the cheek.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My reunion was beautiful. Not everyone gets that, and I carry that awareness with me. I know the ups and downs, the depression, the detachment, the rollercoaster of emotions that adoptees face. I know what it feels like to search for answers, to crave connection, to wonder who you look like, and to finally understand the circumstances of your adoption.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Finding my family helped me find myself. And even though I still struggle sometimes \u2014 like we all do \u2014 I\u2019m grounded in a way I wasn\u2019t before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I built Anchorline Resources because I want to help other adoptees navigate their own journeys. Whether they\u2019re searching, reconnecting, healing, or simply trying to understand themselves, I want this space to be a steady place to land. If my experience can help someone else feel less alone, then sharing my story is worth it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My name is Jenn, and I found out I was adopted when I was around nine years old. It hit me hard \u2014 like a ton of bricks \u2014 but it also explained things I had felt for years. The sense of not belonging anywhere. The way my grandmother on my dad\u2019s side treated me […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-223","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/223","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=223"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/223\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":254,"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/223\/revisions\/254"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/anchorlineresources.site\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=223"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}What I Found<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Why I Built Anchorline Resources<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n