Jung Kyung Sook’s Adoption Story

My name is Jung Kyung Sook. I will soon be 50 years old and I want to tell my adoption story. My life began on the countryside of Korea on a little farming village. I was meant to be a farmer’s daughter but fate led me to have a life full of suffering through adoption. Something that I couldn’t understand at first but would come to understand through the seasons of my life, year after year crying for my homeland and crying for my people. Through tears and screams I have lived a life so far away from my birth country and the little village where I was born. As far away as it is possible to be sent, I was shipped to Europe from Korea illegally, yet it was falsified as legal on paper. Holt was my adoption agency.

I was sent out of Korea to Norway to a cruel and harsh family. I suffered abuse, severe neglect and various kinds of punishments from my adoptive parents. I was made to be their servant in their house, treated like a slave where I was beaten and punished. I was suppose to have my childhood but instead my innocence was stolen from me. I was told I was a burden to them and they never let me forget for even one minute I was their lifelong debt, since I was paid for with their house mortgage. From my first diaper I cost them too much, that in their anger they used their fists on my little body. I’ve wondered many times why I am still alive today because sometimes I was beaten so badly. Strange enough, no one did anything to help me. Some people knew what was going on, but being a whistleblower take some guts, and that was apparently non-existent, back then. No one bothered to even pick up the phone and call the police. My adoptive parents could have ended up in jail for years, if only someone had bothered to pick up a phone. I was beaten, yelled at, and called hateful names. Eventually, I was kicked out of my so called forever family as a teen late one summer night….I still remember it like it happened yesterday. I was called a whore, retarded, an idiot. Yes I was the black sheep of the family. The one everybody could blame, beat and get rid of all of their frustrations upon day after day. Because of the trauma and abuse, I was given complex PTSD by my adoptive family.

The years went by and I returned home to my birth country for the first time. There I learned the devastating news that I was sent out of Korea without the knowledge of my birth family. They did not even know if I was alive or dead back then In 1987. My father and oldest sister searched for years for me in Korea not knowing I had been sent for adoption to Norway. Last Year in 2017 I returned once again to honour the grave of both of my Korean parents for the first time and the last time In my life. I was at last home but it was too late for me to meet my appa and my omma who died way too early, only months after I was born. For me to finally come full circle with one of my birth sisters was so painfully hard, I cried like I never cried before. Adoption to me is the most cruel act that happened to me. Compared to all of my beatings through the years, I will say this- we are all given one life, where we are suppose to bloom and thrive before death takes us all naturally. I was not given my chance to live my life, Instead I was given a cruel life filled with unimaginable suffering.

As a self healing way to recovery, I’ve written my life story called “Cries of the Soul”. It has helped me to write my story and face my ghosts that have haunted me for years. Now as an adult, I have become an activist and want to say one thing very clearly: I don’t want anyone else to experience what I had to endure for a second. Both of my Norwegian parents are now long gone, but I still have one member of my Norwegian family who threatens me he will take me to court, because of my book and blog exposing the truth of what happened- in his eyes our parents were saints. Every child deserves the best life possible to become the person that we were meant to be. In my opinion adoption must be abolished, how many more will have to die? I know I have had the thought of killing myself more than once. I’ve had to catch my breath just to live another day, and to manage my life with C-PTSD. I may have had an extreme upbringing, but I have heard stories not that far from my own, and it saddens me that Korea still today export it’s children abroad. Now it’s soon the Winter Games 2018 In Korea, still they have not ended this very sad business of selling babies, which has taken so many lives through the years. Either Korean adoptees have killed themselves or in Hyunsus case, he was killed at the hands of his adoptive father. Back In the Summer Games in Korea In 1988 they were so ashamed to be called the “Worlds Largest Export Nation of Babies”, but it seems it was just a temporary feeling. I wonder if the adoption world will have to see more deaths before it comes to it’s senses. I hope not. One life taken is one too many. What happened to little Hyunsu is tragic beyond any words could describe. I hope many will help, support and donate to Hyunsus Legacy of Hope in the years to come.

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