Lately I’ve been going on lots about the different kinds of stories I’ve entertained about the “truth” of my adoption. As adoptees, I suspect it is particularly common, perhaps even inevitable, to on the one hand adopt a skeptical attitude about what stories we are told and/or to project the stories we’d “prefer” (even if the story we prefer is more or less a kind of lesser of two evils set of circumstances).
So, somewhat in a spirit of perversity, I am calling these stories we posit for ourselves about our origins as “fantasies”–some of the fantasies might be grim, but at a minimum we can at least own them as ours, as opposed to someone else telling us an alternative story that is wrong, unsatisfying, dubious, etc.
What, then, is your adoption fantasy? Moreover, while this is obviously to some extent a fantasy you have chosen (that we have some degree of control over), how is it problematic? What way, if any, does it play into reproducing the problem of adoption as a social phenomenon?