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Experiences of an adopted child
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Survival Before Motherhood
There is something I have rarely spoken about openly, perhaps because for a long time I did not quite know how to shape it into words. Because of my adoption, I chose not to have children. Not because the opportunity was never there. It was. Life offered me that possibility more than once. But consciously and deliberately, I decided not to become a mother. That may sound harsh. Maybe even unnatural. Especially since many adoptees experience the opposite. For some, having chil
Widya Astuti
3 days ago3 min read
Adoption, Colour and Career: from Survival to Belonging
This blog reflects on growing up and working in the Netherlands as an adoptee of colour. Although I rarely experienced overt discrimination, I learned early on how to blend in and adapt. The only time I truly felt different was during the dark Dutch winters, which deeply affected my energy and mood.
In the workplace, being adopted remains mostly invisible, yet it shapes how many of us function. Adoptees often overperform to secure belonging, using achievement as a survival s
Widya Astuti
6 days ago3 min read
Where Weakness Becomes Strength
Years ago, somewhere in the back of my digital attic, I left a small part of myself behind. Today I stumbled upon the login details of my old WordPress blog. I had honestly forgotten that I used to write there, posting short reflections every now and then. Reading them felt like opening a time capsule. So much has happened since. When I started blogging in 2009, I was moving through a downward spiral, even if I refused to admit it. The topics I wrote about mattered to me, but
Widya Astuti
7 days ago3 min read
Forget about the price tags?
My first realisation that I carried a price tag on my back came in 1991, when I said goodbye in Bandung to a woman I believed was my biological mother, along with her extended family. She handed me a note explaining that she was ill, needed money for hospital care, and had to feed my supposed half-brother and sisters. The letter included a PO box and a bank account number. I was sixteen. Price Tag 1 From the day I arrived in the Netherlands, I had wanted to find my biological
Widya Astuti
Nov 7, 20243 min read
23 days
Last Friday, I had an interview for the upcoming Dutch photobook "Children of Their Time", in which seventeen Indonesian adoptees share what adoption has meant in their lives. Preparing for the interview felt unfamiliar. For a long period, I had stepped away from the intensity of my own history. Something that once ruled my days and nights had slowly begun to loosen its grip. When I restarted my search in June 2020, rest was almost impossible. While the Netherlands slept, I w
Widya Astuti
Oct 26, 20243 min read
Between 2 worlds...
What makes someone Indonesian, Dutch, or anything else? For many people, it seems easy. They see my face, and the answer comes quickly: Indonesian. Yet for me, identity has never been a straight line. It has been a journey — interrupted, reshaped, sometimes painful, but still moving forward. Yes, I was born in Indonesia. Yes, adoption changed my nationality. And yes, the Netherlands became the place where I grew up, went to school, and built my future. Both realities are true
Widya Astuti
Oct 18, 20242 min read
If you were the trafficker...
Dear Mother, Several years have passed since my search was followed by national television in Indonesia. For a brief time, it seemed that everyone knew my story. I hoped the attention would lead me to you. It did not . No decisive clue emerged. Instead, the publicity exposed how complicated and fragile the truth around my adoption really is. Each answer seemed to create three new questions. After my return from Indonesia, a thought entered my mind that I had tried to avoid fo
Widya Astuti
Oct 5, 20243 min read
Letter to my biological mother
The Hague, June 2020 Dear Mom, When I close my eyes, I remember... I remember you taking care of me with great warmth. I remember the Kraton and kneeling for the sultan. I remember travelling and taking a boat trip from or to Lampung. I remember watching TV for the first time on the boat, which was a magical experience for me. I remember scenes from our life in Lampung, including a house surrounded by pineapple fields, where the razor-sharp leaves often made small cuts on my
Widya Astuti
Jun 15, 20233 min read
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