Last May, I wrote about being thankful my adoption story wasn’t open for public consumption. In that post I wrote this:
My Story wasn’t included in the telling of how mom and dad came to adopt me, the events that led up to me becoming one of the family, or what it was like after I came home. That was our story, my story of coming home, not my original story of why I needed adoption (even if it was incorrect). The two stories were treated as separate. Mom and dad respected the fact that my story, my mother’s story, wasn’t theirs to share, or talk about to others. I’m sure they may have told close family members about My Story at the beginning, but if they did, they picked people who wouldn’t turn around and share it to others. They only talked about my story in our home with just us present.
Yesterday, I was visiting a couple of my aunt’s, one who had always known me, and was, perhaps, the closest to our family, our daily lives, the other joined the family later. I can’t remember why the topic came up, but my being adopted did, and now I know not even close family members knew about my personal original story, the why I needed to be adopted. I got to tell my story of why I couldn’t stay in my family of birth. Everyone knew our story of how I joined my family, they didn’t know my story of why.
Another good post on the subject from an adoptive mom’s view: Please Don’t Tell Your Child’s Story It’s not really your story to tell.