To be or not to be…told that is.

In my last post I spoke about  not recalling being told I was adopted and that it feels like I always just knew.  Someone recently emailed me and shared their story that this was not how it was for them and asked my opinion as to how is their parents didn’t see fit to tell hem until much later in life.  Our conversation was along the lines of my saying…” I was one of the fortunate ones that was obviously told at a young age and didn’t have the trauma that comes with learning later in life that you are not who you thought you were and that everything that was your life’s truth now defiled and untrue.  I can not speak for those that have had that experience but can tell you that in my years of facilitating reunions that they have spoken about their difficulties in adjusting after finding out, particularly when it comes out after having lost their parent(s)…known now as their “adoptive parent”.    Let me be clear that this isn’t the case for all.  I know some that have gone through this and come out seemingly unscathed.  I’m told that it isn’t so much that it takes away from them feeling these people are still their “mother and father” but it is the lies that take hold and leave those affected with so many questions.  Unfortunately for many those questions go unanswered and not only because the adoptive parents aren’t there to share the truth because for many many years bringing you home and signing papers was their only ‘truth’….their only “fact” as they weren’t privy to a great deal of information.  I know that doesn’t take away the impact it has knowing they withheld the truth from you, but unfortunately that is something that only you can come to terms with.

Many, including myself, spend a lifetime feeling that if we can just find our biological families that the untruths and evasion of questions will stop; questions will be answered, we will find who we are and what we are.   I can say that isn’t always so and many years later I still don’t have the answers I wanted (my biological father was a master of minimization when questioned) and the dishonest history still very much is alive..  However I can also say that despite the outcome of the answers I sought I don’t personally have regrets in carrying out my search because at the very least I was proactive in my search (or like a dog with a bone as my bio father used to say) and found out where I came from…lumps bumps and all.

This my friends, is where my family began my biological mothers side; or at least as far back as we can find…..Our first Canadian Ancestors.

John Graham Smith Bapt. Nov 3, 1806 and Frances Clark Smith Bapt. Dec 19, 1810

My great, great, great GrandparentsJohn Graham Smith Frances Clark

In having reunited those I’ve just met with family, my friends with family, coworkers with family, clients with family and even my family with family I always emphasize that finding your roots doesn’t always equal finding answers.  For many the desire for those answers and/or to search is not there.  I would encourage you to think deeply with your mind not just your heart and be open to self discovery along the way.  It can be a ling arduous process and how you accept the result of that process determines your tomorrows.

This is the book cover I mentioned previously and although it is not written by anyone in the adoption triad it is a book most of us can relate to.

Yesterday they took my baby

Although the quality of this video leaves much to be desired, it is touching to say the least.

“From Gods Arms, To my Arms, To Yours……

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