Beth: Chapter 12
Untitled
Digital
Emmalia Ning
Story by Xavier (they/them)
Adoptee, 27
Nanchang Project Volunteer
From Unknown, Jiangxi; Living in Lekwungen and WSANEC Territory, Victoria, B.C., Canada
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This story is deeply personal. It is a reflection of my journey—painful, messy, and sometimes raw, yet slightly fictionalized. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved with one exception: the titular character who is referred to by my original adoption name. I have chosen to share this story because I believe in the power of truth to heal and connect us and because I wish to illustrate the reality of growing up in a difficult adoptive home.
You may encounter moments of grief, trauma, and abuse within these pages. For some, these moments may be difficult to read. Please know that I include trigger warnings where appropriate, and I encourage you to take care of yourself as you engage with this story– if you so choose.
While my experiences have shaped much of my life, this is also a story of survival, resilience, and the ongoing journey toward wholeness. It is meant to offer solidarity and hope to those who may feel isolated or broken in their experiences as adoptees.
You are not alone.
If you or someone you know needs support, please consider reaching out to a trusted friend, counselor, or helpline. I have included links below and will continue to with each chapter as they are released.
Thank you for reading and holding space for this story.
With gratitude,
Xavier Huang
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Beth: A Love Story
Chapter 12
Yu stands on the deck of the ferry as it cuts through the Georgia Strait. The warm summer air rushes past her, lifting dark strands of hair into the sky. The smell of salt fills her nose, and she breathes deeply, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face.
It has been four years since Eric died and two years since she joined the birth search group. Yu does not struggle with alcohol anymore, and she has stopped using drugs. Sometimes she smokes weed and dances in her living room, basking in the freedom of her body, and the comfort of movement. Her home is often full of friends who share stories, break bread, and laugh until their sides hurt. There was a time when she could not imagine an after, but now she is immersed in it, in the novelty of being alive.
She is on the way to the mainland to meet with a friend who knew her a long time ago, when she was broken and in a city far away.
As she moves towards the railing, a passenger drops their phone, and a ballad she has not heard in years begins to crackle through the air. Taeyang’s voice surrounds her as he begs his lover not to leave and the hairs raise on the back of her neck. For a moment, Yu feels the misting rain on her skin, the warmth of another body so close to her, but never touching. She thinks of Hwang-woo and wonders if he is happy, if there is someone to close the distance, to finally fill the space she could not enter years ago. Yu smiles, and bends to help the person retrieve their phone and they thank her as they turn off the music.
Time flows around her like the water that surrounds the boat. She thinks of the version of her that could not see a future, who believed existence was meaningless and empty. She remembers her younger self, full of confusion and hurt. That girl exists beside her, a part of who she will always be, someone she can turn to and comfort when the sadness rises again.
And it always does come back– the emptiness, the aching pain. But it no longer terrifies her like it used to; it is her oldest friend.
Recently, she dated someone, and the closeness did not terrify her, instead she longed for a deeper intimacy.
One day, she suspects she will walk the streets of Shanghai at night, sit in a bar in Berlin, and this moment will be a memory in her distant past.
Yu knows she will never truly heal from the pain that defined her younger years, but the thought no longer bothers her. She is the joy, the regret, the hope, and the pain. She is Beth and Yu – every moment of joy and pain. She is everything she has ever hoped for.
She tips her face towards the sky and closes her eyes. Overhead, the captain’s voice announces that they will arrive in Vancouver in fifteen minutes. Yu collects her bags and heads to the doors where she will disembark. Above, seagulls drift on the wind. The sun casts golden rays across the ever churning water and somewhere on the deck a child tosses a pebble into the ocean, watches as it drifts down, down, down, into the deep.
To access licensed US mental health professionals who identify as adoptees and work with adoptees/adoptive families visit growbeyondwords.com/adoptee-therapist-directory.
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Untitled
Digital
Emmalia NingMinimal and meditative, this digital composition evokes the feeling of openness and renewal that closes Beth. Flowing, mirrored lines drift across a pale expanse, suggesting both waves and the passage of time. The sparse use of color and abundant negative space create a sense of quiet continuity—forms that feel less drawn than breathed into being. Drawing from the Chinese literati tradition, the artist translates the novel’s final note of possibility into visual form: a horizon without boundary, where time, self, and memory move freely, like water around a boat.
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Emmalia Ning (she/her) is an adoptee and painter from Guangzhou, Guangdong, currently based in Brooklyn, New York. Ning’s work is rooted in her identity as a transracial adoptee, reflecting on the complexity of connections. Her practice centers on dreamscapes that reclaim the myth of the red thread of fate, using flowing lines to visualize bonds formed not by destiny, but acts of will. Connect with Emmalia on Instagram and Tiktok @fakeartist.em.
Emmalia is the artist and illustrator of Book 1, Chapter 6; and Book 2, Chapter 12 of Beth. To learn more about Emmalia and the other artists of Beth, read about them here.
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Xavier (they/them) is an adoptee from Jiangxi who now lives on the unceded territory of the lək̓ʷəŋən and W̱SÁNEĆ nations (colonially known as Victoria, B.C., Canada). X is a prolific writer and enjoys creative non-fiction, fantasy, and fiction writing. Through their work they explore their identity as an adoptee, parse their lived experience, and explore what it means to be human. They joined the Nanchang Project in 2023 and cherish the community they have discovered amongst the volunteers and adoptee community generally.
The views expressed in blog posts reflect those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the shared views of The Nanchang Project as a whole.
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