My Kids Are Adopted And I’m Tired Of People Asking If They’re ‘Real Sisters’

When my girls were small, people would approach us in public and ask: "Are they real sisters?"

I choose to believe that people are not inherently rude, but curious. I suppose — because they could tell we’d adopted our children — that they wondered about the process. "Were they from the same bio-mom/birth mother/tummy mummy?" But still, every single time I heard it, the question gave me pause.

"As an adoptive parent, I have often felt like my job is also partly about educating and advocating."

My kids already know they look different. They have always known they were adopted, and they can easily recognize their own differences. One has dark curly hair and olive skin that gets very brown in the summer when camping or swimming outdoors. In fact, people sometimes ask her: “Are you mixed race?” (That is an entirely different subject to unpack for another time.)

My older daughter is fair and short. Her skin burns at the thought of sun, and she has light brown hair with a hint of red. One is artsy, creative, introverted and sensitive; the other ran before she walked, is extremely opinionated and sometimes explosive and loud.

My younger daughter is blunt and sometimes we joke that she has no filter. “She is my sister, period,” she told me once when she was around nine years old. “Don’t ask me if she is my real sister. Yes, she is. Also, if you know I am adopted, and you ask me about my real mom and dad — that’s just rude. How would you feel if you were adopted, and someone asked is that your fake mom or dad?”

Paula started telling her daughters their adoption stories before they could even talk. Find out why here.

Reacting in Public

“Being adopted is like having two families, one you see all the time and live with and the other you just don’t get to see that often,” my oldest told me when she was about 11.

Even when she was younger and sitting in that cart in the grocery store, I could see her visibly reacting to the words of strangers. Sometimes it was clear that the questions landed like arrows piercing her skin. Questions about being real siblings and a real family can cause anxiety for kids who have often already been through the trauma of being removed from their family of origin.

"Even when she was younger and sitting in that cart in the grocery store, I could see her visibly reacting to the words of strangers."

Sometimes that question causes them to worry if their family is real, or whether they can be removed and returned. It can be worrisome for little people.

As an adoptive parent, I have often felt like my job is also partly about educating and advocating. While it might seem weird to a lot of us, many people still have no experience or exposure to adoption. Maybe they’d never met a family formed by adoption before and didn’t know the right language. So, I restated questions as often as necessary using adoption specific terms. My intention was to help educate.

If someone asked, “Are they real sisters?” I’d reframe the question politely like this: “Do you mean are they biologically related siblings? No, they are not biologically related, but they are sisters in every possible way.” Occasionally, when they got a little older, I’d say: “Well, they argue in the backseat like real sisters.”

And if that escalated to them asking, “Where are the real parents?” — I shut that down fast. “Standing right here.” Why would a random individual think that was something appropriate to ask?

By now, in 2021, I want people to recognize that families are formed in so many different ways. I never look at a family of any sort and think I should ask if they are blended, or if someone is adopted or why they look different.

Answering for Themselves

As the kids grew up, the questions shifted off of my shoulders and onto theirs. Classmates, school staff, coaches and people running after-school extracurriculars were sometimes the ones asking.

Together, over a decade or more, we’ve all become increasingly better at recognizing what motivates the person asking the question. Is it genuine curiosity, or an organic inquiry from a child versus an adult wanting to point out that someone is visibly different? 

When the question is coming from a person we don’t really know, I remind the kids they can tell them or not tell them. Once or twice, I’ve heard the kids joke: “We are twins. DUH.” I’ve also heard my oldest girl simply say, “Yeah, genetics!” and shrug and walk away.

After a surprising question from her son on the walk home from school, this mom found herself wondering: what makes a family?

Occasionally people still ask. Medical professionals and therapists might inquire and that’s fine when they are trying to get at medical history, for example, but generally speaking, I feel like even there a bit of sensitivity training could be helpful.

Kids know when they are different. Some struggle with that for years. It doesn’t need to be pointed out at every single opportunity.

"What is a real family? What does 'real' even mean?"

For years, a support staff person at school seemed to enjoy pointing out how very different the girls were. It was always said jokingly ("Oh my goodness you two couldn’t be more unlike each other!"). But recently, I realized that continued kind of comment in a professional setting where they were supposed to be supported and educated was actually harmful, insensitive and unprofessional. It drove a small wedge between my two kids and fuelled more arguments at school and home.

Language can be a powerful tool. We use it for so many purposes. To celebrate, communicate, educate, inquire and learn — and yes, sometimes to wound.

What is a real family? What does "real" even mean? What are real sisters and real siblings? What is a real mom or dad? 

What I'm hoping for as we come to know new kinds of families, is that we lose the urge to ask. It isn't necessary to point out our differences, and it doesn't override a child’s right to safety and mental health.