Holt adoptee Olivia Carnaté defines her identity — not by her physical attributes, but by the journey she has taken in life.

If you meet me in person, you will see I am about 5’3”. I have long dark brown hair with curls that don’t need hairspray. I have stick straight eyelashes, full lips and high cheekbones. I have been called “exotic” and “unique-looking,” but what surprises most people about how I look is that when I speak, I do not have an accent. I do not know my native language. I am not great at math and sometimes when asked to describe my ethnicity on paper, I check both Asian and Pacific Islander.

Self-identity is a constant battle as an international adoptee. We straddle a fine line between maintaining a connection to our heritage while embracing the culture we’ve learned to identify as our own. Our appearance says one thing, but then we act another and for some reason, society is surprised by this.

This year, I turned 30 and I will tell you that when I first meet someone, the one question I’ve been asked more times in my life than any other is: “What are you?” I field this question on a regular basis from the curious bystander on the train to the man interested in getting my number to my co-worker when she sees pictures of me with my mom. From my standpoint, it’s a weird question to be asked. Sometimes, I will get asked, “Where are you from?” or “What is your nationality?” But more often than not, it’s about WHAT I AM.

As an international adoptee, answering the “What am I” question is a double-edged sword. It’s never simple and it’s always complex. It starts with “Well... I’m Filipino but I’m adopted and that is why…” The next thing I know, I’m giving an elevator speech – defining my personal history in 30 seconds about where I’m from, blatantly pointing out that my parents are white and no, I’ve never tried Balut.