Ouch! You’re not my real mother. You’re not my real father. A simple sentence that is designed for maximum impact. I don’t know an adoptee that hasn’t played this card at least once in their life. It comes in different variations:

• You aren’t my real mother.
• My real mother would let me do it.
• I wish you had never adopted me.

Most children go through a phase in their life where they are trying to define themselves by challenging their parents’ authority. Being a Korean adoptee is a built in weapon. First, we feel justified in our anger. Here we are at a time in our life where we are trying to create an identity and we are forced to deal with the fact that we are different from our family and friends. It makes the struggle to find that identity harder and, to some, more traumatic. So, we strike out where we know it will hurt the most.

I remember my own walk through puberty. Trust me, I don’t remember it fondly. The whole experience was surreal. I felt like someone else was controlling my body – walking, talking, responding. It’s funny, I don’t remember everything about the time I said my version of "the words". I don’t remember exactly what I said and I don’t remember what my mother said to me. I remember knowing that I had said something horrible, but a part of me reveled in the power and another part of me felt justified.

As a parent, I am not looking forward to the day when my son uses those words. It’s scary to think that my son will wield such awesome power. I remember when I had the power and I can only imagine what it feels like to be on the other side.

I’ve practiced possible responses, rehearsed possible scenarios in my head, but I suspect that my brain will turn to Jello when I actually hear it. Here are some things I’ve practiced:

• I am your real mother and I love you, but you still can’t have it.

• You do your birth mother a disservice by implying that she doesn’t love you as much as I do. I love you and I make rules because I love you.

• I’m sorry you feel that way, but I am your real mother and what I say goes. (Hmmm, this one probably won’t end the war.)

Anyhow, I’ve shined up my armor for the battle, but I still think my brain will turn to Jello.