When I meet new people, I know they have questions about my life. But all too often, they’re too afraid to ask them.
When I was about a year old, I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy.
I don’t know much about the day I came into the world or what caused my cerebral palsy because I’m adopted. I was born on the streets of Seoul, South Korea, presumably without proper prenatal care. Someone, who I’m assuming was my birth mother, had enough sense to drop me off at a police station with a note that read: “Please adopt her to a family that can raise her.”
A few months later, I joined my very large family in America. I was almost 11 months old.