My parents never hid the fact that my brother and I were adopted. They put the best spin on it possible, telling us how noble and brave our birth mothers were for making the decision to give us to a family who could love and care for us the way we deserved, and how all the hoops my parents had to jump through to get us proved how much they wanted us.

I was struck by that last part in high school, when one of my friends confided that he was an “accident" and his parents had told him they never wanted him. They did the minimum possible to fulfill their “duty". Another was a “replacement” for a first child who had died. She was constantly compared to the paragon who had come before her. They were the kids who couldn’t wait to get out of the house, not me!