Adoption as my saviour
Part 4 of the series: A Hungarian beginning. A Danish life.
1 min read by Pip Baume
Some stories protect us in ways we never expected.
Growing up, Daniel Lund’s adoption was never a source of stigma. If anything, when people learned he was adopted, it was met with a kind of approval. Oh, okay. You’re adopted. That’s fine.
But something has shifted in Denmark over the last 20 years. And with that shift, Daniel’s story has taken on a new dimension.
A country in transition
Denmark, like much of Europe, has changed over the past 2 decades. New communities have arrived. Cultural conversations have shifted. And in that changing landscape, Daniel - with his darker features - has sometimes found himself misread.
I kind of fall in between,” he reflects. “Often when I meet new people, they assume I’m from somewhere I’m not. And they assume whatever they have as assumptions about that.
But Daniel isn’t from the places people project onto him. He was born in Hungary. He grew up in Denmark. And everything about him - his values, his worldview, his way of speaking, his way of being - is Danish through and through.
The gap between what people see and what they hear
Daniel has recognised a particular kind of moment. It usually happens after a phone call - after someone has spoken to him, listened to him, formed a mental image of who he must be - and then meets him in person.
Oh, I didn’t expect you to look like that.
Because on the phone, he’s unmistakably Danish. Fluent, natural, at home in the language and the culture. But when the door opens, the assumption is already forming.
I meet a lot of negativity, purely based on my appearance.
The word that changes everything
But there’s a word that shifts the entire encounter.
Adopted.
When Daniel mentions that he’s adopted, the tension often dissolves. The assumptions fall away. He’s no longer perceived as a newcomer, no longer projected onto with whatever fears or frustrations someone might have been carrying.
The adoption actually saves me a little bit from whatever negative interpretation they have.
It’s strange that a part of his story he chose not to build his identity around has, in adulthood, become something that protects him.
He calls it his saviour.
Standing between worlds
What makes Daniel’s experience unique is that he isn’t truly connected to any of the places the world assumes he might be from. He hasn’t lived in Hungary (other than when he was a baby). He hasn’t been to the Middle East. He’s never belonged to the cultures people project onto him.
He is Danish. But he doesn’t always look like the Denmark that Denmark expects.
It’s a complex space to occupy. But Daniel navigates it with the same steadiness he has brought to every other part of his story - with clarity and peace about who he is.
What’s next
Daniel’s approach to his adoption hasn’t changed dramatically over the years. He’s continued to hold it openly, without letting it define him. But he does have one plan.
I think maybe as I get older I would go look up, or try to find, at least my biological mother. Because at some point I don’t have the chance anymore.
It’s more of a responsibility - a sense that while the opportunity is still there, he should take it. At least to tell her: I’m okay. I’m good. Everything worked out fine.
He also sees his adoptive parents ageing. He knows that the people who shaped him won’t always be there. And in that awareness, there’s an acceptance of time - a recognition that some doors close whether we walk through them or not.
At some point you’re going to stand there and you have to accept that they’re not going to be a part of your life anymore. So I think that at least, yeah, at least I have to try.
🎥 Watch Part 4 now on the Kindred Ponderings YouTube Channel.
🎧 Part 4 of 4. The final episode of A Hungarian beginning. A Danish life.
A Hungarian beginning. A Danish life.
Daniel Kalászi was born on 21 November 1990 in Miskolc, Hungary. Two years later, he became Daniel Lund - a son, a brother, a Dane.
He shares his unique perspective on adoption, identity, and belonging. Daniel is not searching for a lost self, or defined by his origins. He just he holds them as part of who he is.
A Hungarian beginning. A Danish life. And somewhere in between, a man building his own values, listening to the pull of legacy, and continuing to evolve.
Join the conversation
Are you an adoptee whose story has, unexpectedly, become a bridge between worlds? Or someone still figuring out what your origins mean to you? We’d love to hear from you.
Daniel’s story is shared with his permission as part of a 4-part series on Kindred Ponderings.
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