When I was a child, I was told I was adopted at a young age.

But I behaved better than my inner self really wanted to because I thought I could be given back. I wasn’t really mature enough until college to want to know my parents. I think it had to do with not knowing anyone who was related to me in this world and figuring out who I was going to be at that age. I graduated from college, worked and got married like I was supposed to do. My adoptive parents never told me anything about my birth parents, and though I loved them, I knew not to ask. Or rather…I was afraid to ask for fear of disappointing them. They had adopted four healthy babies, so technically, they were saints. I was actually proud to tell people this fact. I still wanted to know from where I came. I was born in the 60’s, and I have come to learn there was an epidemic of young, unmarried women having babies. Birth control was reserved for married women and their doctors. Sex education apparently was not a big deal, and homes for unwed mothers sprang up around the country. That left a lot of women who carry around a hole in their hearts today. They were told they couldn’t possibly raise their baby without a job or support, and adoption was the only choice. So there are a lot of adoptees and birth mothers from this time.