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Love Conquers All: My Adoption Story @ 25 in 2025

Rohit Nyss
Mar 27
3 min read

I don’t remember the moment I entered this world. I don’t know the voice that first whispered my name or the hands that cradled me in those earliest days. My story begins in fragments, like torn pages from a book I was never given. All I know is that I was born in a small village called Bashunti, nestled deep within the Sundarbans region of Bengal, and in the year 2000, I was adopted from SICW in Kolkata.

Beyond that, there are no records—no traces of my earliest moments. I've often wondered about those missing pieces—who held me when I cried, what circumstances led to my adoption, and whether my birth mother ever thought about me in the years that followed. It’s a strange feeling to grow up without a clear beginning, as if stepping into a story that has already started without you.

For a long time, that void shaped me in ways I couldn’t fully understand as a child. I struggled with trust, haunted by a deep-rooted anxiety I couldn’t name. Perhaps it stemmed from an uneasy prenatal experience, an uncertain infancy, or a feeling of detachment before I even had the words to describe it. The world felt fragile, unpredictable, and at times, unkind.

And yet, despite the unknowns, I was given something that never wavered—love. I was raised in a home filled with warmth, security, and belonging. At the heart of it all was my mother.

She was my anchor, my safe place. Through her unwavering love and patience, she taught me to trust, to believe in kindness, and most importantly, to love myself. When I couldn’t see my own potential, she did. When I doubted my worth, she reminded me of it.

Being adopted taught me three profound truths about life: First, that biology does not guarantee love. Second, that good parenting is a conscious choice—not an obligation or duty, but a decision made out of love. And third, the key to happiness lies in giving back to society.

I have seen biological parents neglect their children, leaving them feeling abandoned despite being physically present. In contrast, my mother created a home built on trust. She was never just a parental figure; she was my friend; someone I could confide in without fear.

But what do you call a mother like mine? A woman who chose to love me, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. A woman who adopted not out of necessity, but because she believed in it. Isn’t that the purest testament to what it truly means to be a parent? It challenges how we define the concept of ‘mine.’

And it wasn’t just my mother. My father, too, was an extraordinary presence in my life—a man who cradled me when I was sick, who patiently taught me math despite my anxieties, and who could discuss my gynaecological concerns with calm detachment, treating them as matters of anatomy rather than taboo. He’s also my role model—a testament to balancing corporate success with a fulfilling personal life.

Then there’s my brother, adopted into our family when I was three. His world begins and ends with me, and to this day, he remains one of the sweetest siblings anyone could ask for—loyal, caring, and unwavering in his love.

Together, they formed a home where love was never about obligation—it was always a choice. And that choice made all the difference.

Another force that helped me navigate life was art. As a child, I found solace in drawing before I even understood why I needed it. The world often felt overwhelming, and my struggles with ADHD made daily life challenging. But when I picked up a pencil, something shifted. Art became my language—a way to express what words couldn’t. It grounded me, offering calm when everything else felt chaotic.

Over time, what started as a refuge became my passion. Today, at 25, I am a graphic designer and artist, working in design, education, and creative expression. Through therapeutic art workshops, I now help others discover the power of creativity in a world that often feels too fast and too demanding. Whether it’s children learning to express emotions or adults reconnecting with their inner artist, I guide them toward the same realization that saved me: art has the power to heal, to transform, and to bring clarity in the chaos.

My journey hasn’t been easy. There are still days when I wonder about the life I might have had, about the unanswered questions that will always remain. But through it all, love has been my constant companion. And that, I believe, is the greatest gift of all.