If it ain't broke, you can't fix other things?

I quite often wonder why my experience of being adopted hasn't made me hate adoption. I mean, the obvious reason why I don't hate adoption is because my being adopted worked. What I'm talking about is WHY did my adoption work out, seemingly for all concerned.

My parents, although not happy with me all the time, seem to have enjoyed what they got. Not that that is really all that important since they actively sought out another kid to raise, and paid a whole $25 . I'm just saying, I think they've gotten their moneys worth out of me. I think they're satisfied customers, happy campers, so to speak.

My biological mother, well, she told me herself she's had a good life. She's gone on to have other children and didn't spend her life regretting giving me to someone else. I'm afraid my recent attempt for communication via snail mail has likely made her wary of being outed, something for which I'm sorry, but didn't expect since I was led to believe she was interested in further communication, albeit anonymous which it no longer is.

Biological father, don't know anything concrete about him and can't without biological mother's help. He's likely dead though now anyway. In fact, who knows if he even knew about me, so I can surmise his life was/is good enough.

My siblings, they seemed to like me enough. I've never felt they weren't "real" nor have they ever given me any indication they felt any different toward me. None of us were blood to each other, didn't make a damn bit of difference as far as I can tell. My sister, the other adopted one , is fine enough with being adopted too.

I, with the exception of the usual bumps in the road of adoption.... finding out my sister wasn't biological, realizing it wasn't a nurse that had babies for people who couldn't and that there was a real person out there somewhere who might not be as happy as me (did she have anyone to love her? did she have enough food?), and such other moments of realization, am at peace with the situation and feel no sense of rejection or abandonment. I have no resentment toward my biological parents or jealousy toward half siblings. With the exception of mild curiosity and a slight annoyance at not having heard back from my biological mother again, I'm cool with it all.

At this point, it leaves me with a big fat why. Why am I cool with it?

I don't have a storybook relationship with my mom, but, maybe my dad made up for that.

My parents were not wealthy by any stretch, but, money's not really ever been that much of a priority to me. I'd love to have scads of it, win a lottery or something, but as long as I have enough, I'm happy.

I don't especially look like anyone in my family, but have kind of told myself that I look like my dad's side, if I didn't have dark hair that is.

My personality isn't markedly similar to anyone in my family, but, there are things I have in common with lots of them and I've always been very relieved to have not inherited any crazy genes, that I know about anyway.

From my understanding, in 1963, they tried to match people up. Kind of find family similarities and values although I think there was likely lots of lying and omitting going on so how much this did to contribute to the success of my adoption is debatable. I was NOT adopted into a family of a different color or culture or from another country. These things, I think now, can make a huge difference between adopted people's experiences.

I've had my moments in life when I've felt  inferior, made bad decisions, behaved recklessly, but for the life of me I cannot connect that with my being adopted.

I've been told my good experience makes me privileged, and I guess that may be so, but I can assure you it in no way lessens my compassion and concern for those less fortunate, makes me any less determined to do my small part in addressing adoption dysfunction.

Thing is, I think it would be so helpful in fixing what's wrong, if I could just figure out what went right.....for me.