Why this book exists
A focused place to understand what is happening
Marion was forty-one when she finally admitted to herself that she needed to find her birth mother. She had known she was adopted for as long as she could remember. Her adoptive parents, whom she loved without reservation, had told her early and told her well, so that there had never been a shocking discovery, just a fact she had always known: you did not grow in my tummy, but you grew in my heart, and we chose you. It was a good adoption, by every measure. She had never doubted that she was wanted. And yet she carried an ache, small and constant, that she could never quite name. It came out at odd moments. When she looked in the mirror and saw a face that resembled no one she had ever met. When her children were born and everyone said, oh, he has.
The writing is designed to reduce shame, bring the underlying pattern into view and give you practical ways to respond without pretending that every life follows the same formula.
