My Story (Unfiltered)

In this post, you will find an autobiography distilled into a blog post. I got inspired to not call it my “adoption” story, but instead just simply.. my story.

Trigger Warning: Narcissistic abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, suicidality, sexual abuse etc. I just got back from KAAN 2024 and hosted a session where I told my story- So while it’s fresh, here is my story..

With that out of the way here we go..

CHAPTER 1: The Beginning

My story began… alone. as Case # K95-476. I was born in Taejon city, Korea and given up for adoption as soon as I was born. Without getting bogged down with a ton of the nitty gritty details… I was adopted at 2 months old to my Adoptive father (Irish Imigrant), and Mother (U.S Based , East coast raised) through Holt International.. (WAIT, Shouldn’t you tell us about your life Pre adoption?!).. Well, I would, but I don’t know a TON about my life pre-adoption due to my records not matching in terms of stories.

EDIT- after the release of the documentary “South Korea’s adoption reckoning) (Click here)- I don’t know how much information is truth and what is falsified in my file. My file could be 100% falsified and I don’t know any information. This is all TBD with my birth search pending.

All I can really tell you, is that my mother was in her Mid 20’s and an “travel agency worker”, and my father was 29 and an office worker. I can tell you that my father was apparently 174cm tall, 63kg weight with small eyes, high nose, slim stature (lol I didn’t get that part), and an introvert, and my Mother was 152cm tall, 48kg in weight with big eyes, shapely nose, and oval face with fair skin & an extrovert… My Korean Name- Jung-Kil- means (Jung) The Government, (Kil)- Which is super fitting given I was essentially part of a government organization at that point…

… I can tell you what I looked like as a baby from some pictures here and there…. that I was apparently a “bubbly and happy” baby (it says on my hospital forms etc). But one of the things as an adoptee that eats at me is the fact we Don’t really know where we exactly come from, or What exactly Happened to us as a baby. I have little fragments of what “could be” or what “supposedly happened” but nothing in our lives from before adoption is “for sure”. We’ll get back into what was in my files exactly later- but for now. I’m a 2 month old baby flying on a red-eye to JFK airport to get picked up by my new family…

I arrived to JFK airport August 22, 1995 greeted by my new family. My father, Mother, Aunts & Uncles, and Grandma, all met me at the gate. Apparently coming off the flight I was speaking Korean & the way my family describes it is, “The flight attendants came off the plane and exclaimed ‘only 2 months old and speak Korean! Smart Boy!’ “.. I apparently was bubbly, happy, and the only child not hysterical crying.

My earliest memories were all very fond- I grew up in many places as my father moved around a lot for work. We started off in Glen Gardner, New Jersey- with a condo with black mold on the windows… and then moved to Bucks County, PA where I grew up for most of my young life. I remember the birthday parties my parents used to throw me and my younger KAD sister, the Windows 95 computer my dad bought for the apartment, and generally, having a loving young childhood when I first came overseas from Korea.

When we moved to Pennsylvania, and I aged a little more- I began to have a dysphoric view of how I was viewed vs what I felt like on the inside. I was still very young, having fun with playmates, and friends- but in general, I KNEW I was different from a young age. In elementary school I was one of two asian kids in my whole school, and since we grew up in essentially amish country- I always was one of the only POC in the area. When I was young I was made fun of constantly for having “ching-chong eyes”, and “dirty skin”, I honestly tried to distance myself from my Korean Heritage/asian looks as much as I possibly could to assimilate and just “fit in”. My mother even found a Korean tutor for me when I was very young to try and teach me, and instead of wanting to learn Korean- I wanted to learn spanish.. I wanted to be as far from asian as humanly possible.

My relationship with my adoptive parents was generally good early on (circa 2000->2003)- my mother spent a lot of time doing musical activities with me, lots of sensory-motor work and teaching me many different things like the names of bones in the body, countries, states etc. My father did a lot of father-son things like building my first playground in the backyard, and taking me on the back of his motorcycle to elementary school, and teaching me how to build different things. Though, as time went on, things got really tough because my father got busier and busier, I could tell my parent’s relationship was going through some rough patches, and my mother got chronically ill and was not able to keep up with two adopted kids in me and my younger sister. Things progressed to the point where my mother needed help and had to hire childcare / people to help take care of me.

Things back then were kinda a blur, and generally I remember bits and pieces of good, but also the yelling matches between my father and mother over many things, most hurtful of those things was my mother fighting to have me put in certain therapies when I was young to help with my sensory motor issues, as well as to go to Holt Adoptee culture camps, but my father complaining about money and that the culture camps were “too far”. My mother also wasn’t a saint- she had a reaaaally raging temper and she would talk about us being “grateful” for what we have. Also, my mother would go behind my father’s back to get us the help she thought we needed- now though she had good intentions, this pattern would be ingrained in my head as a way to act in relationships as an adult (patterns of anxiety when trying to tell my partner bad news or something I thought she would get mad at). My father slowly became harder to please as time went on, and I felt like I had to always work to even get him to acknowledge me via accomplishments. Generally speaking, how they handled things when I was very young, has really impacted my worldview and views on being “Asian and Adopted”.

there is something else that occured that shaped my entire psyche that I haven’t yet talked about..

Remember how I said that my mother was chronically ill and my father was working all the time… and that it required childcare? Well.. this is what happened during that time..

Chapter 1.5…. TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT- this is the first time I’m telling my story. so.. here we go.

Because of my dad’s job getting more demanding and busier, and my mom’s deteriorating health conditions… they had to hire babysitters to help take care of me.. one of which was a next-door neighbor a few years older than me… Things started pretty normal, but as time went on, she started playing “games with me” by telling me, “this is how older kids play”. I was but a few years old at the time, so I thought I would be “the cool kid” by playing those games. Those “games” started out as simple things, like hide and seek where I would learn where no one could see me, or us… then they progressed to something she called “playing doctor”.. she would first start with normal things like measuring heart rate, and pulse, then things progressed to her touching me under my clothes, and eventually to molesting my private areas and telling me, “this is what doctors do”. Though, I couldn’t say anything and didn’t understand what was happening- I knew in my heart of hearts.. something was deeply wrong with this scenario..

Things over time got progressively worse to the point where then she had me perform “exams” on her.. it started simple and like they did with her doing them to me.. and progressed to her forcing my hands down her pants and into her body. The abuse carried on until we eventually moved out of the area…Generally, I knew that something was very wrong with what had occured to me, however, I didn’t know how to put the feelings into words. This experience would deeply change my psyche forever, and the effects of which I’m still battling at age 29 years old now.. More to come on this later in the story…

end trigger warning

…………………….

CHAPTER Two: California Living.. (sucks)

My father, got a job offer as site head of Genentech in the SF Bay area, and before you knew it- I was saying bye to all of my childhood friends (who by the way, would chant “California sucks" over and over at my going away party…. kids, am i right??). Now, Imagine, you walk into a classroom as a nine or ten year old child that was moved from one part of the country to the other with little to no adjustment period. This is what happened to me, and to make matters even worse- since we were waiting for a house to be built- we had to move into a shitty apartment and go to the school in that district- which was different than the school system I would eventually be in the rest of my youth. As my introduction- the teacher said “we have a new student, and he will only be with us through the end of the school year (which was 4 months)- this led to every kid in the class to ostrasize me even further as everyone already had their friend groups & didn’t want to socialize with the kid that was temporary. The four months I was at that school were the hardest of my childhood- I would eat lunch inside with my teacher every lunch period because when I tried to eat with other students- they would make fun of my eye size, skin color, and generally give me the “asian stereotypes”. Growing up as an adopted kid, I really didn’t understand this notion that I was any different than the white students in my class. My adoptive parents were told to help me assimilate by the agencies- so I was always told I was a “Hurley”. My mother gave me some information about me being different- however the racism was tough to deal with and even communicate with my parents. I ended up rejecting my asian heritage even further and shoved all of the feelings down as a kid. I told people I was white, and to treat me as such. I even adjusted how I dressed to be more “bro-ish”.

I eventually moved to the school system that I was going to spend the rest of my youth from 11-18 years old, I began 5th grade at Hearst Elementary. Again, it was challenging because I had to inject myself into social groups with predominantly white social circles, thankfully being in California- there were MORE POC’s- but those POC’s also seemed to be confused by my existence. I would be ostracized from the asian groups for “not being asian enough” and therefore I ended up with a mixed group of people that were considered “the nerds”, or “the social rejects”. I was also the kid that would go sit with the person who had no friends, and people who got picked on- empathy caused me to be further pushed out of social circles.

For middle school- my adoptee identity never came up- mostly due to me finding catharsis in the guitar and music again. I broke my leg when I was 12 in a dirtbike accident and was sequestered to a wheelchair all summer vacation. As fate would have it, my cousin- Matt Boland came to live with us in California and he brought his guitar with him. He taught me the basics, and let me use his guitar. Since I had nothing else better to do with my time, and I was sinking into a deeper and deeper depression; I poured all of my energy into the guitar. I put all of my anger, sadness, angst, etc into the craft. I used guitar as my sole outlet for all of my emotions- I played for 8-10 hours per day, until my fingers bled a lot of the time. I was using a form of emotional translation to process some of the complicated emotions I was feeling at the time. I kinda relate the feeling to pouring your heart out in a journal- but since I wasn’t able to describe any thing in words- music was my outlet.

The thing that solidified music as a beacon of light in my life was my Principal in Middle School- John Whitney. He was a member of the Tower of Power back in the day, had a gold record in his office, and a ‘59 Strat & ‘59 Tweed bassman in there as well. He started a club at 7am on friday mornings called the’ Rock & Roll club’. Two teachers, Duane Habecker & Jim Krier, as well as Whitney would have a bunch of kids in the Auditorium in the mornings before first period. We would play everything from Clapton, SRV, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, etc. think… ala the School of Rock movie from the early 2000’s. There was one day in particular that I remember well- Mr. Whitney told me to stay back one day during first period, he would excuse my absence. He set me up in the auditorium alone, and brought out the holy grail of guitar rigs: his ‘59 Strat & ‘59 Bassman. He plugged me into it, and told me I could play them for a few minutes at full volume. He walked away, I turned on the amp, and hit an A chord. It was the most beautiful A chord I had ever heard. From that moment in time. I knew guitar was what I needed to do in my life… forever.

Guitar took over my life. Music was how I communicated: how I got through breakups, hard times, loss of friends.. everything became about music. High School came, and so did all of the issues that came with the territory. I did OK socially, I wasn’t as ostracized as I was in my early years- however I constantly tried to be “enough”for either my white friends, or my asian friends. I would constantly have to code switch between more “urban” language & slang with my white, african american, and latinx friends, and a little more “proper?” with my asian friends. I had to research different things asian people ate, drank, different language and slang, etc. It was the first time I was engrossed in different, more diverse social circles- and I had a hard time truly fitting deep into those groups and still was considered the “other”. (This photo was from when I tried my best to assimilate into Asian groups in early High School.

High school, the big thing was “blend in, assimilate, and try and make friends”. All of my life, my goal was to be accepted, liked, and included in the groups. In high school- I people pleased, and tried to make people happy- and by extension, I was the “always positive, happy, and helpful” member of social circles. It also helped that I had guitar as a mechanism for “cool” factor. I played sports in high school, and had some normal experiences- like my first serious relationship that left me scarred on many levels. Her parents were full blown xenophobic against me because I was not chinese, nor did I have any touch with my “asianness”. In front of my face- they told their daughter I was not, nor would I ever be good enough- I wasn’t going to be a doctor, lawyer, instead- I would be a dirty artist. This started a spiral in my head that I’ll come back to in a minute… keep a note of this.

In Junior year, I got accepted to Berklee College of Music’s Five-Week Performance program in Boston. I talked my parents into letting me attend- so I did over that summer. That five weeks really solidified what I thought was my future in music. There, I met so many people and what I really loved was… how it didn’t matter that I was asian, adopted, or different. There WAS NO living in-between. We were just people.. united by our shared love of musicianship. I came back from that program so set on what my life was going to be.. music was my future.

After Berklee Five-Week, I auditioned for the college and got in to the music school. I remember how excited I was getting the acceptance letter in the mail. I also got counseled by my father to send out other college applications, so I did that as well. Senior year was ticking by and I needed to make a decision on if I was going to attend Berklee come the fall after senior year.

Two weeks before that decision needed to be finalized, my father sat me down and had a serious talk with me about my future.

The way I remember it was, a commanding, domineering, and condesending talk about how I would be a “starving artist” and that music could only be a hobby”. My future was not to be put into music as there is no money, and how I would be hard pressed to find support if I made that decision. He claims now that it was a “joint” decision- however, when you sit down and tell a 16-17 year old kid that he wouldn’t find support, or any success in that field… it ends up not as a joint decision and as one made out of fear.

I folded and ended up not submitting my acceptance to Berklee which was possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life.

I instead went to accept admission to University of Denver as an Engineering major.. as my father wanted. This marked a pattern of people-pleasing and becoming my “father’s shadow” per-se. He always had an attitude of “you should be grateful”. Being an adoptee causes a lot of us to people please and keep the peace because we are always told we were given a second chance.

After Berklee Five-Week, I auditioned for the college and got in to the music school. I remember how excited I was getting the acceptance letter in the mail. I also got counseled by my father to send out other college applications, so I did that as well. Senior year was ticking by and I needed to make a decision on if I was going to attend Berklee come the fall after senior year.

Two weeks before that decision needed to be finalized, my father sat me down and had a serious talk with me about my future.

The way I remember it was, a commanding, domineering, and condesending talk about how I would be a “starving artist” and that music could only be a hobby”. My future was not to be put into music as there is no money, and how I would be hard pressed to find support if I made that decision. He claims now that it was a “joint” decision- however, when you sit down and tell a 16-17 year old kid that he wouldn’t find support, or any success in that field… it ends up not as a joint decision and as one made out of fear.

I folded and ended up not submitting my acceptance to Berklee which was possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life.

I instead went to accept admission to University of Denver as an Engineering major.. as my father wanted.

Chapter Three: The cracks start forming.

From here out, this gets heavy again- so be prepared if you read on

College… oh college… my first semester was a whirlwind.. one reason for that.. I got sucked into the most toxic, and abusive relationship I had been in.. also.. in looking back- I can see how adoption shaped my relationships and caused me to fall into really bad patterns.. (people pleasing, attachment & abandonment issues, etc)… I gained a bunch of weight, and really got into a place where the person I was with was emotionally and physically abusing me as well as manipulating & gaslighting me into thinking something was wrong with me. My self-confidence was at an all time low, and since I was an engineering major- I had no time to myself, or no time to even think about how to get the negative emotions out of my head. At this point in time, I completely stopped playing guitar and in turn- no longer had an emotional outlet.

I turned to the “college life” for solace, I thought maybe if I could have fun and go make more connections- that would bring me happiness.

*Trigger Warning* Drug Abuse, Suicidality

The first time I ever partook in drugs was at a concert that my friends in a sorority were going to. I never had experienced drugs, but they told me it would be safe and cause me to feel happy. I wanted to at least have something to make me happy- so I took the drugs. That night was a blur and I met my next girlfriend at that show. This would start a spiral of really dark decisions and things to occur in my life.

That relationship only is brought into the story because the people around that person made my life a living hell. The people around that girl, were ruthless- they came up with many nicknames for me back then.. fat gaijin, and the one that really stuck… “hamtaro” like the fat hamster in the anime. The relationship was insanely toxic and killed my self-confidence even further than I thought possible, a cycle of disordered eating, excessive exercise, and trying my best to be the opposite of what the people in my life were making fun of me for. During this time I began a cycle of abusing my body in the form of alcohol and drug abuse because of my insanely low self-esteem. I was so depressed that I remember thinking “what’s the point in trying if no one cares about me?”, I would want to feel ANYTHING other than pain from dealing with people putting me down, and because I was searching for external validation instead of rectifying my internal traumas- it began a road of ecstacy (MDMA/MOLLY) abuse. It was incredibly insidious of a drug- because It was so rampant in the Denver rave scene, and incredibly normalized within the community- it was almost a normal occurance to go to a show and “roll” (get high on molly).. I won’t get into too much, but generally speaking theres a whole subculture in the Electronic Dance community that I used as my excuse to run away from all the pain and drown myself in PLUR culture (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect-born of the rave scene). But what I found, was that PLUR lifestyle was superficial and led to my addictions.

*I even bought a “hamtaro onesie” to try and make fun of myself*

My self confidence at an all time low, I ended up cracking in my junior year when I landed in the hospital with a blood infection, and I missed my final exams for the semester and would have to re-take everything. I dropped out of engineering school & took a gap semester and re-enrolled in business school… I kept this from my father for a while. I thought “if I at least get a business degree, I can make him proud of me”..

Well.. I dropped out, again. and this time, I stayed dropped out.

2016 was the year I ended up moving back to California and in with my mother (my parents were starting their seperation / divorce).. I started applying to jobs, but generally my mother knew I was struggling so she let me take my time. In this time I was still abusing MDMA & alcohol, but hiding it well from my mother- she knew I would go to concerts with friends, and be exhausted the following day- but she didn’t know to what extent I was abusing myself. The point where I knew I had a major problem was when I went to EDC Las Vegas 2016 by myself (after a breakup), went on a 3-day bender where I mixed every drug, and alcohol, and I was continually high the entire weekend. I met someone at the festival that would shove more drugs in my face every time I would even mention I was coming off the high. Quite frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t overdose this weekend as I know there were pills laced with everything from fentanyl to meth & heroin. I remember, not even knowing where I was, which direction was up or down, and ending up just wandering around in the 115* heat. When I went back home, this is when the issues started.

I was helping my parents move, even though I was so strung out from the drugs that I took- I felt like I needed to. I felt faint when helping them move, ran to the bathroom and puked a red-tinged bile. Without alerting my parents, I made an appointment and went to the urgent care. When the doctor came into the room after he found out my symptoms and what had happened to me (I was honest with the doctor).. he told me If I kept abusing my body- I would end up dead. I took this decently seriously but I then began a road to try and back off the lifestyle.

I was addicted to not the drugs- but burying my emotions within my soul and trying to use drugs as a catharsis to feel anything- love, hate, passion, happiness. I just wanted so badly to FEEL something.. Anything. Over the next year and a half, through 2017, I would back off frequency of how many shows I would attend, and try my best to refrain from drug use. I would fall back into habits once in a while as addiction recovery isn’t linear. I knew I didn’t want to die though. Now, the saving grace would be what I ended up doing for a job.. something I could pour my energy into that was constructive rather than destructive.

*End Trigger warning*

I needed to move out of my mom’s house, So I got an apartment in Berkeley, CA & I started leaning into the passion I found in exercise science (when I was in college) and became a Strength & Conditioning coach & competitive powerlifter. One thing I learned through being in the fitness industry and competing in powerlifting was the amount of grit, and perseverence needed to really ascend to new heights- I have many medals from winning competitions in the 75kg weight class & was able to Squat 460lbs, Deadlift 535/545 Lbs, and Bench 275-295 lbs when I completed my last competitions. I also did a stint of competitve strongman competitions. Because of this regimen, and what it took to get me into competitons- the drug use had to stop. So I fully backed off of alcohol and drugs in pursuit of the goal of winning competitions. Powerlifting.Saved.My.LIFE.

I coached many people out of a gym in California and really helped quite a few people achieve amazing things- IE: Having a client lose 50lbs and put on a ton of muscle, able to play with his kids again… & helped a 65 year old officer at Chevron deadlift 315 lbs. Honestly, helping people and changing people’s lives really made a positive impact on me and how I saw myself.

Chapter 4: Looking towards the future… (with lots of family drama..)

This stint of coaching also did not last as the gym I worked for, was a very toxic environment full of horrible behavior and overworked staff. I ended up quitting and going to work in Human Resources for a biotech company in Hayward, CA to get a different experience; and because I was trying to figure out what was going to make the most sense for me to sink time into as a career path. I was being pressured by many different angles- my parents were trying to push me to pick a path, financially- there was also a lot of pressure as I was running out of reserves…

Oh, did I mention this was a company my dad was working for/got me the job to try and get me into a professional field. Little did I know, I was about to walk into a complete shit-show of a situation that would prove to completely blow up our family.

Now, generally speaking I don’t like airing family drama or anything personal online- but this is an exception. My father worked for a biotech company I was starting work at- Intarcia Theraputics. TLDR I saw that he had a “relationship” with someone at the office that seemed a bit off to me. Little did I know this woman would end up as his new wife. Over the next couple years- I was thrust into the middle of my parent’s messy divorce. The family I knew growing up was no more and he was moving on to a new family with his new girlfriend, then fiance, then eventually- wife. I would attend his wedding party when this occured later and I felt totally alienated and like the “bastard child” of that party. It was incredibly uncomfortable and I felt “othered” even more after hearing my father speak about “new beginnings with new family”.

Honestly, my parents splitting had a very long lasting effect on my psyche that I still battle with today. I was given up by my family in Korea, to a family in the U.S.. and that family unit that I grew to know as my own- is no more. My sister is estranged, for good reason- there’s too much drama… my father has a new family, and my Mother is still struggling to this day figuring out where she belongs. Being in the middle of a back and forth between my parents has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. “parenting my parents” comes to mind as how to describe this. The last few years have been extradorinarly hard, I had to deal with all of this while trying to figure my own shit out and try and do the music thing full time and figuring out truly where i belonged. … oh yeah, after this whole thing at my father’s company-and one more stint at another pharmaceutical company (Johnson & Johnson).. I quit and went AWOL to do music full time because I finally had enough of trying to “be a normal worker”.. and I hated looking at myself in the mirror every day. I was angry because I felt I had wasted my life being a shadow or a puppet of what other people wanted for me in my life- Instead of doing what I wanted and felt like was my calling.

Chapter 5: To Present Day…. Feeling hopeful.

When I talk about the last few years of personal development-It has really been a personal transformative few years. Moving to Nashville, and starting the therapy journey has been totally one of those incredible things that I don’t take for granted. There honestly isn’t much to say other than I’m grateful for my family, loved ones and people who care about me.

I’ve been battling mental barriers in therapy the last few years, and one of the big things i’ve realized is I have to un-learn a lot of things from what was learned behavior and thoughts. I’m done being a people pleasing, puppet of people in my life. I’ve had to seriously, critically look at myself and all of my flaws.. and actively work to become a better, more complete human. The thing that really struck home for me was when I started my birth search- I called my father… and told him.. his response was “I adopted from Korea so there was a negligble chance that the child I paid for would re-neg and go find his birth family”.. This just made me go totally hands - up, and stop worrying about what my father thinks 100%.

Here’s the thing- I believe that we are poisoned by rhetoric about “what it means to be a man” in today’s society.My adoptive father told me that men don’t cry, and instilled in me that strong men are stoic, and never show any weakness. I believe a man isn’t any less manly- and is in fact even more manly if he shows these qualities

Emotional intellegence
Empathy, compassion, kindness

and also… men can do

Inner child work
asking for help
go to therapy.

Generally, I think the more emotionally intellegent a human being is- the better off the world is. The more good things will come your way, and in general- you will attract more incredible opportunities. The last few years has been a whirlwind of opportunity- from playing with childhood heroes, rockstars, playing the Monsters of Rock Cruise, etc— I don’t take any of it for granted. But I will say, I work my ass off sooooo much, and give back to the community through acts of service. I’m a big believer that giving back to the community and serving is one of the major ways that people can get into the industry.

In terms of adoption and that journey- my “rapture” moments started with a lot of microaggressions and racism.. which forced me to look at my race more critically. Here’s an instagram post I made on those thoughts: Click here

I got my initial paperwork and files from Holt Korea in 2023, and I’ve started the formal birth search process. I’ve found my community through the KAAN conference, which I spoke at this year (2024)… I’m so thankful for the communities I’ve found, and people I’ve met through these amazing spaces. I’ve also done a couple of podcasts (will link below, when I get the second one)… This year (2024) has been a lot of my life being turned upside down and trying to go to Korea for the first time, and finish my birth search in 2025. It sometimes seems hopeless- but I’m willing to walk through the bullshit to get to the “other side of the rainbow”. Through darkness, there is always light, always hope.

huge bombshells also dropped with the release of the documentary done by frontline.. here are my thoughts in an instagram post..

Click here

but I think its time we wrap this up…

This has been my life’s story wrapped up in a few chapters of light reading. From a people pleasing, shadow of a human, to a more complete, and whole human…. What I’ll leave you with is this

You are not alone.. even if you feel like you are.

Seek community, support one another, treat others with kindness and empathy

Love one another, and more importantly- love yourself.

-Until next time-

Jonathan Hurley