About Me

The short version of my story is that I was born in Colombia, sometime in 1984. I don’t know anything about my first two years of life. Well into adulthood, I would have told you that my adoption didn’t affect me—that it was in the past, all settled. I was adopted to Sweden as a baby, and from a young age, I knew I wanted to move abroad. In 2005, I left Sweden for New York and fell in love with the city. It was a perfect match for someone like me—an adoptee who could remain anonymous, yet never alone.

At 26, I had my first daughter. It was the first time I met a biological relative—and the first time I realized how deeply the lack of medical history really affected me. A few years later, after my second daughter was born and our family moved from New Jersey to California, I found myself facing anxiety and unexplained anger outbursts. I couldn’t push it down anymore—I needed to understand what was going on. As I dug deeper, I landed right where I never wanted to go: my adoption.

The next five years were heavy. Dark. Lonely at times. I was uncovering trauma, deep-rooted fears, and lifelong patterns I never knew had a name. It truly felt like I had opened Pandora’s Box—and there was no closing it. The only way forward was through.

That’s when I started This Adoptee Life. It became my place to work out my thoughts, my grief, my healing. With every post I wrote and every word I shared, I just wanted one thing: for other adoptees to know they are not alone. On the blog and on social media, I shared my journey of coming out of the fog in real-time, holding space for those walking through it too.

Then, in late 2020, I took a break—a real break—from This Adoptee Life. I needed space to breathe and be. It was during that pause that everything shifted.

In that stillness, in that wilderness season, God met me.

He didn’t wait for me to be healed. He met me in the middle of the mess—in the anxiety, the confusion, the grief. And slowly, lovingly, He began to show me who I really was. Not just an adoptee trying to heal, but His daughter—purposed, seen, and dearly loved. In the presence of God, I found something I had never known before: peace.

He began to unravel the lies I had believed about myself my whole life, and in their place, He planted truth. I didn’t just find healing—I found identity, purpose, and freedom.

Today, I stand stronger, not because I figured everything out, but because I no longer carry it alone. This new chapter of This Adoptee Life is rooted in that truth. And it’s for those who have done the deep healing work—and still find themselves stuck in the in-between. For those who are ready to step into who they truly are.

Whether you’re an adoptee or someone who loves an adoptee, I want you to know: there is life beyond the fog. There is healing. And there is hope.

Thank you for being here—for walking this road with me. You matter. Your story matters. And you’re never alone.