Abstract
For as long as I can remember I had a sense of not belonging, of being a misfit. When, therefore, at the age of six, it was casually mentioned over the dinner table that I was adopted it was no surprise. I felt I had always known. As I grew up I dreamed of who my real mother might be, the circumstances of my birth and where I had come from. It was many years before I found some answers to my questions and, in the process, discovered more about myself and the nature of relationships.
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