On an evening in July 2014, while enjoying a bout of insomnia, I decided to do what any sensible person (aka actor), does in the middle of the night. I googled myself. Not just my name, but my birth name too. Nexy Jamin. I should note that this name lives on the internet. I have used if for a variety of things. A spam email address, as a password, etc… My looking up the name was purely a byproduct of wanting to know if MY name, Emily Agy, the actor, was connected to it. It wasn’t. Then on a whim I added the last name. Nexy Jamin Rodriguez.
Imagine my surprise when the top two posts were of someone searching for their long lost sister. Me.
With trembling hands and a racing heart, I clicked on the first post. Her name was Myana. She was seven years younger than me. She had recently found out about me from her mom. She was looking for me via a post on an adoption forum. There were two posts. The first was from 2010, the second a year later. All she had to go on was my birth name, her mother’s name, my place of birth and my birthday. No one had responded. Of course no one responded. “No one”, was me.
My heart continued to pound. A quick internet search of her first and last name (it was on the forum profile), lead me to a myriad of information. Searching by image helped me narrow it down. There she was. A Facebook page, documents that mentioned her name and where she lived. Pictures. Pictures of people (her family), that looked just like me. At 32 years old, I suddenly had a reference point for my own genetics. Skin tone, hair, height, facial shape, smile. It was all there. Every answer to every unknown question was right there on the screen. A wedding website on The Knot. Her wedding date? October 5, 2013. The exact same day as my wedding. The. Exact. Same. Day.
That broke me. I cried. I got angry. Feelings that I never even knew I had came pouring out of my heart and in to my head. Why me? Why did she give me up? Why wasn’t I worth keeping? I cried some more. A woman that I didn’t know, and had honestly never given much thought to, suddenly became the woman who gave me up. A woman who had then moved on in life and given birth to another little girl. A little girl that she kept.
Let me pause and say that none of these feelings have ever really been a part of my life before. My family is my family. I am Emily Dawn Agy and always have been. My mom is my mom, my dad will always be my dad and my brother will forever be my first true best friend. I have never wanted for anything in life, have no active memories of being adopted and always giggle when someone asks me “well when did your parents tell you you were adopted?”. I don’t remember being told. It’s obvious that we are different (I’m Puerto Rican, they are not),but I’m not adopted. I’m their daughter. I’m a little sister. I’m me.
I woke Justin up. I showed him the posts. I cried again. I screamed “That’s ME!” and then got upset when he didn’t react. His first response was to say “How cool!” I failed to see how it was cool. He went on to explain that he thought it was awesome that I had a whole other family that I could get to know, and have to love. He clearly didn’t understand how huge this was.
My mom said the same thing the next day on the phone. She had no idea that anyone was looking for me and was somewhat confused as to how the whole thing had happened. Once the confusion and tears (from me), had stopped, she expressed the same sentiments as my husband. What a wonderful opportunity. More family! More people to love and have love me in return. She was happy for me and wanted me to know that whatever I chose to do with this information, she would take the journey with me. I kept telling her that she was my mom. As if somehow this late night internet discovery had changed that. Which is ridiculous but one can imagine how wild this whole ride was. This was a Lifetime movie. This was a television 1 hr drama waiting to be written. I felt like this, was something I could pretend had never happened and that Myana could continue searching. She didn’t know that I had read her post. She clearly had stopped posting years ago and had given up so she wouldn’t know what tiny explosion had happened in my world. My mind compartmentalized the event and I locked it away as some weird thing that had happened and didn’t need to be addressed ever again.
Until the day I sent her a Facebook message.
*Thanks for reading, see you tomorrow for Part II!