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Severance Magazine
Tag:

family secrets

    Essays, Fiction, PoetryNPEs

    20 Questions and a World of Stories

    by bkjax April 7, 2025

    By Ilene Alexander

    Old stories and new stories are essential: They tell us who we are, and they enable us to survive. We thank all the ancestors, and we thank all those people who keep on telling stories generation after generation, because if you don’t have the stories, you don’t have anything.

    –  Leslie Marmon Silko

     You likely know the 20 Questions game in which players ask yes/no questions to identify a particular person, place, animal, object, or concept one of the players has in mind. A game for passing time with family while travelling or among friends learning a bit more about each other’s lives and interests while just hanging out, this game focuses on discovering answers to trivial questions. An amusing pastime that evokes good feelings, it seldom leads to forming memorable insights about people.

    I have in mind a different set of 20 questions, the Do You Know Survey developed by Marshall Duke, Robin Fivush, and Sara Duke. Their questions cluster into two broad categories—family origins and histories and birth and family trait stories. Overall, these who, what, when, where, why queries focus on basics such as parents’ and grandparents’ growing up, meeting, and marrying stories; their recollections of good and bad experiences in school, work, life, and health across generations; and learning appreciatively about family members’ national, ethnic, cultural, and/or immigration backgrounds.

    The key factor is how the stories are transmitted—through consistent, undistracted conversations during which family members listen and engage with multiple perspective-taking stories over many years. These regular gatherings create opportunities for children to hear a family’s history, build emotional strength, foster resilience and well-being, as well as develop a sense of self-identity within the intergenerational narratives. The power of family storytelling lies in its ongoing, meaningful presence rather than in isolated moments of information sharing.

    Given the gift of oscillating stories—the “life has ups and downs” stories told overtime by multiple people—I believe I’ve navigated, dare I say enjoyed, my DNA discovery because my raising up families sparked curiosity to seek stories however family shaped itself. 

    Now, let me tell you a bit about how I came to realize old and new stories as essential for sense-making of the new DNA-provided stories.

    The fingerprint ghosting the black and white photograph above suggests to me that Pops made this image while becoming acquainted with his new Polaroid Land Camera, a 1960s version with the bellows and a pop-up flash, and loaded with black and white film that sandwiched photo paper and chemical emulsion in a packet that could be pulled apart to reveal fully processed image after a shutter click and a minute’s time. Mom made other images that day in the Tracy backyard, checking out this new camera. Both my parents, gifted with their own cameras during their 1940s teen years, were part of families that valued the joy and history captured in family portraits and snapshots.

    Early on, Mom and Pops taught me, the kid in this photo and their only child, to see my worlds through multiple lenses—cameras and words and feelings. The stories I took in— then and now—are shaped by friends and families, reporters and researchers, music and art, students and strangers, perceptions and dialogues. In writing and sharing autobiographical or pedagogical stories now, I need to— at least imaginally— put my butt back onto the Adirondack chair arm of that photograph to orient my nervous system again to safety. 

    That’s Grumpy at the left of the photo sitting on the edge of the chair, shirtless behind his bibbed overalls, elbows and forearms resting on thighs so that the balled up right hand fits inside the open left palm. While his mouth shape suggests he had been speaking, his eyes focus somewhere beyond Gram and me on the other half of the two-person, Grumpy-made chair. Most often, he joined conversations briefly and quietly—listening at length, then offering a fleeting sneer or smile, guffaw or sigh; or moving back in his chair as if to punctuate a comment, or forward in preparing to further the telling.

    At the right, ah, that’s Gram with a fresh wash and curl from Dot’s down the street, her grey shining as it weaves with yet-black strands. That day’s pastel housedress is smoothed over her knees so she can sprawl her legs, relaxing her entire body into her side of the chair. Always, it’s her face and positioning of both arms that draw viewers into this photograph: Her head is tilted to look directly from her cat-glasses enhanced face onto my own smaller upturned face. Her left arm curls around my back with its hand lightly holding the hem of my shorts. Her right arm completes the circle around me, resting as it does on the tennis-shoe-shod feet I’ve plopped into her lap. Her facial features express quiet attention—she’s fully engaged with whatever taIe I am telling.

    And me, the 3½-year old wearing that summer’s favourite striped t-shirt and cuffed shorts? My hands and arms mirror Grumpy’s pose. I’ve got my own Gram-like cat eye glasses to let me see things up close. These decades later, I’m drawn to the scrunched-up lips and relaxed jaw line that suggest I felt at ease—completely safe, actually—in talking with intensity as a granddaughter invited to take her place in this family.

    This right section draws most viewers’ attention, having brushed past Grumpy’s seeming disengagement to focus on the more interactive half of the photo. I’m drawn to the wider view that offers a lens onto what I’ve come to learn as necessary components for storytelling: listening to others’ stories, telling one’s own stories, and seeking to understand the positive, negative, and oscillating themes and threads of storytelling across time.

    ***      ***      ***

    A handful of years later, in 1967 or 1968, as part of a 5th grade language arts unit focused on learning, talking, and writing about our own family histories, I prepared for an upcoming assignment by arraying a selection of family photos and ephemera around a hand painted wedding plate recording my parents’ wedding month and year, December 1956. Having recently celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary, I knew the date and did the math: the span between 28 December to 5 February, my birthday, was and is one month and eight days. 

    When the time came to share what I was learning about my family with deskmates, I must have disclosed the wedding-birthday data as part of what I’d discovered. I would be among those who would learn a year later in a “human reproduction” unit that normally pregnancy followed marriage, and that babies formed over a nine-month period. Turns out some of my classmates had already learned this information, along with learning ways of appraising births that happened outside these parameters. And they had also learned, at home or in church, ways of naming and shaming someone born outside that normally: Illegitimate. Bastard. Two new words for me that day.

    I brought that story home. I knew that home was a safe place to make sense of those words. My parents’ response was clear: Those attitudes were illegitimate. Children are never illegitimate.

    Our conversation reprised parts of my birth story I already knew: Labor started earlier than expected, which found my Mom calling the doctor’s phone service and her oldest sister, who organized their taxi ride to the hospital. Pops got the 2 am phone call from my aunt while at the Tracy homeplace as his overnight stay on his traveling sales route, which is also when Gram and Grumpy learned that there was a pregnancy in addition to the recent marriage. And, as the embellishment Mom loved to tell, everyone fell in love with that dark haired, cross-eyed, yawning, wiggling baby girl named for her maternal grandmother. As a follow up, Mom introduced me to one new story via Gram’s “congratulations on the new baby card,” asking me to read the opening line aloud: “Well, speak of surprises, this was a lovely one.”

    That night I heard about how the people who loved us told stories of their marriage and my birth with joy and celebration rather than shame. Jane Ogden and Amy Snyder note that “[H]ow the stories are told rather than the content of the stories per se has a greater influence on the process of intergenerational transmission between parent and child.” They identify that “how” as telling stories in a voice that conveys a positive valence. My parents’ genuinely positive emotional tone, I know now, played a significant role in deepening my senses of self and family, and snatching shame out of the frame.

    The overall pattern that emerges from the accumulated shared stories also matters, according to Duke, Bohanek and Fivush. Based on recordings of family conversations, observations, and interviews, the research duo describes three narrative patterns:

    • Ascending narratives focus on upward progress, meeting challenges, and creating new opportunities.
    • Descending narratives focus instead on lost opportunities, social and personal stumbles, detrimental impacts of political and historical events, while also recounting re-grouping efforts.
    • And oscillating narratives that weave the ups and downs together for a narrative that conveys variations in family life across persons and times.

    The complexity inherent to oscillating narratives prompts children to notice alternatives and possibilities and fosters sense-making reflection for adolescents at a stage for developing a resilient autobiographical self who is an autonomous yet connected being.

    In telling and retelling my birth story, my parents helped me weave an oscillating origins story that would accommodate new DNA knowledge.

    ***      ***      ***

    Given what I recall hearing, it’s likely not surprising that I put safety above honesty in completing that grade five family history assignment—to write a short family history or biography drawn from interviews with a family member. The report I wrote focused on 1960s pop star Davy Jones, thanks to teen magazines chock-full of interviews. It felt safer to claim misunderstanding the assignment, so my year five teacher, Mrs. Hoagland, could tell me again “you’re not living up to your potential.” That script wrapped around me from second to sixth grade for asking too many questions, chatting to my classmates when my dyspraxic brain couldn’t keep track of spoken task lists, and talking back when I disagreed with a teacher.

    And yet, I could have written dozens of family histories thanks to origins and histories stories from paternal homeplace gatherings, and coffees with my maternal aunts and uncles. I knew the stories and lineages of my grandmothers, Hannah and Ida, as well as their grandmothers, Hannah and Ida. More than that, I knew why I was named for two maternal Idas via my initials. And I felt the ways my brain had been shaped by two paternal Hannahs I came to know through Gram’s life-shaping stories and worlds carried forward through her grandmother’s journals and photographs.

    When I took my first turn to share a story at that paternal homplace kitchen table, I told Gram of my classmates’ calling me bastard, naming me as illegitimate, and my decision to avoid the letter of the assignment. I expected to hear and talk through Gram’s recurring “What are you going to do about that?” query—her perpetual question to urge me to reflect on what next actions I might take to resolve a problem. I wasn’t expecting Gram to tell me her own birth story as also one of premarital pregnancy, given her May 1905 birthday and her parents November 1904 marriage date. With the details and positive valence of this story, Gram aligned her life with mine. She told her story with confidence and in confidence: with confidence in her character, and in confidence that I would honour her boundary to share this private story only within the family.

    The telling and the boundary created a whole-family secret, one “known by the entire family but never shared with outsiders” (Vangelisti in “Family Stories and Family Secrets”). The grownups in my family were already in on the math linked to Gram’s birth, and, likely, to the timing of her own marriage relative to the birth of her first son five months and three days later, a calculation I wouldn’t perform for decades.

    During my teenage years, Mom shared other premarital pregnancy family stories, all passed on during her own growing up: Her maternal grandparents became parents three months after their marriage. A sister who opted to raise her first born on her own and to be open about this within the family and when she married a few years later. A second sister who accepted an invitation from their oldest sister, the nurse, to live in her bigger city apartment near the maternity home that would place her child for adoption, and decades later accepted a husband’s command that she not tell their children about their half-sibling.

    As I review both families’ premarital pregnancy stories from my newish not parent expected perspective, I recognize two things: each woman created her own way of navigating a premarital pregnancy, and that I was expected to navigate secrets, whether Gram’s whole-family secret told in confidence to guard her privacy within the larger community, or more tightly held intrafamily secrets from Mom’s family, intended to silence intergenerational transmission of women’s stories. Whole-family secrets “can actually bond family members together and create intimacy, in the sense of belonging to an in-group,” while intrafamily secrets limit who is allowed to know and often foster a sense of insecurity and betrayal when the secrets remain in the background or come to the fore (Vangelisti in “Family Stories and Family Secrets”). As with secrets generally, the combination of cultural and family contexts works to shape and coerce women’s choices about openness and secret keeping related to life experiences, identity, sexuality, and paternity.

    In weaving me into paternal and maternal ways of telling of oscillating stories, Mom gave me access to the generation upon generation of navigating ups and downs, whether related to figuring life out or not, keeping whole-family secrets or no secrets, understanding how and why context muddied ancestors’ life decisions in small or huge personal moments, acknowledging damages wrought by family bullies and egotists as part of building ways forward, and making social families more often than entirely biological ones.

    And it’s one unfinished story that helps most now in navigating the DNA discovery: Mom decided that her Lent giving up in 2005 would be to start sharing her long-withheld dating life stories about the time before and including Pops. That Easter day she said this: “The man I was seeing before your dad didn’t share my values. You would say he was sexist, racist, and homophobic. He also wasn’t kind like your father, so I chose to be in a relationship with your dad.” She promised to say more when I came home for her birthday in a few weeks. My mom unexpectedly died before her birthday.

    In bringing me into the intrafamily secrets, I suspect Mom was preparing me to understand why she opted to protect her own paternity secret—choosing to hide culturally-expected shame about not knowing paternity even more than the fact of premarital pregnancy, and offering me a story collection for an “if and when” day of learning, as I did 13 years after her death, that I had both a genetic biodude who spawned a zygote and a social father who shaped a life.

    Ilene Dawn (Ida) Alexander was most recently a teaching-learning consultant for the University of Minnesota, working with instructors and departments to (re)design courses for a broad range of learners in a variety of learning spaces. Having taught writing and literature courses, and American, Women’s, and Queer Studies courses at high school, undergraduate, and graduate levels, Ilene retired the first day of the 2024-2025 academic school year. Now retired for less than a year, she gets to decide how to use her own brain, read even more Welsh literature and theory, and study and write about whatever interests her. Of late, the study interests have been tarot and psychology, and the writing has focused on making sense of gaining NPE knowledge on what would have been her raising up/chosen father’s 88th birthday. Some of that writing shows up at thetruthofthings.blog. You can also find her on Instagram @IleneDawn, on Bluesky @ilene-dawn, and on Facebook IleneDawn.

    April 7, 2025 0 comments
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  • BooksShort Takes

    A New Guide for NPEs & MPEs

    by bkjax December 10, 2021
    December 10, 2021

    Everyone who’s had a DNA surprise will recognize themselves in the pages of Leeanne R. Hay’s NPE* A Story Guide for Unexpected Discoveries. Hay, a freelance journalist who’s earned certificates from the University of Florida College of Social Work, has crafted a memoir/guidebook hybrid, drawing substantially from her own NPE story and those of others to illustrate common experiences and issues that arise when family secrets are revealed and individuals learn that the families in which they were raised may not be their families of origin. In 2017, on a whim, Hay purchased a DNA test, the results of which were shocking. Not only did she learn that the man who raised her was not her father, she discovered at the same time that her biological father was a man she’d known and loved since she was a child. And there began a quest to learn as much as she could about her origins, her ethnicity, and how such a monumental secret could have been kept from her. She felt rage toward her mother, by then deceased, bewilderment about her ethnic identity, and, soon, an overpowering sense of anger and helplessness. If you’ve had a DNA surprise, these feelings likely will be all too familiar, and Hay offers the much-needed comfort that comes from knowing that you’re not the only one whose ever had these experiences and emotions or the only one who doesn’t know which way to turn. She offers gentle guidance about the range of situations and complications that may arise, from how to communicate an NPE discovery to others, how to use DNA to search for family, how to communicate with new relatives, and how to contemplate and make a name change, as well as the steps needed to move forward. She addresses the emotional pitfalls, including isolation, loss, and grief, and the repercussions for others who are affected by an MPE’s discovery. In addition to noting helpful resources, Hay also advises readers about the need to carefully assess resources to determine if they are truly helpful, expert-based, and reputable.

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  • ArticlesDonor Conception

    When the Truth Finally Comes Out

    by bkjax October 22, 2021
    October 22, 2021

    As a professional coach* working with donor conceived adults, parents, and donors, I’ve observed a common issue among many donor conceived clients seeking support: feelings of anger or disappointment that their parents kept the truth of their conception secret from them for so many years. Because there may be disruption in the relationship between these adults and their parents, one or both parties seek coaching to help them work out their differences and adjust to the newly challenging reality. My donor conceived clients of all ages typically discover the truth of their conception either from their parents or from having taken a DNA test. Less commonly, they find out from a person other than a parent. Donor conceived people are often confused as to why their parents didn’t think such information was vital enough to share with them much earlier on. Indeed, many donor conceived people feel that knowing the identity of both biological parents is a basic human right for multiple reasons (psychological, cultural, and medical); they therefore feel violated and betrayed by their own parents for denying them this right to their complete family heritage—information that most others take for granted. Donor conceived people sometimes point out their parents’ hypocrisy in having chosen gamete donation over adoption for the purpose of establishing a biological connection to at least one parent and later complaining when their adult child shows interest in the typically anonymous biological parent. Should biological relatedness only matter to parents but not to children? The parents may say things like, “It shouldn’t matter. Love is all you need, and you received that.” Yes, but we also need to make sense of our traits and know where we came from so we can form healthy adult identities, not to mention our need for an accurate family medical history. Equally hypocritical, some parents enjoy doing genealogical work on their own family trees but criticize their adult donor conceived children for also valuing and investigating their true and complete heritage. Parents’ explanations for their failure to disclose the manner of their children’s conception are often confusing. For example, they may say, “We couldn’t find the right time,” or “We thought it would be better for you not to know.” They may state that they didn’t want to layer on additional challenges when their children were going through difficult life events, such as going to college, or when there was trauma, loss, or divorce in the family. These justifications may or may not be excuses to avoid the difficult “telling conversation.” Sometimes, donor conceived people recognize their parents’ good intentions, but the problematic secret, which they consider a major lie, may overshadow those good intentions. Many feel there were numerous opportunities over the years for their parents to tell the truth. There are several psychological reasons why parents may keep such secrets. Recipients of donor sperm may experience denial, as some may have lied to themselves for years by believing that the donor sperm didn’t “take,” while theirs (or their partners’) did. (Egg donation doesn’t afford the same opportunity for denial, since in vitro fertilization is necessary.) And in the past, fertility professionals encouraged such denial by mixing the sperm of two men—donor and intended father—or by telling heterosexual couples to have sex the night of the artificial insemination. Even today, most fertility professionals aren’t well informed about secrecy’s negative effects on donor conceived people and their family lives, being only concerned with running their businesses and achieving results.

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  • Essays, Fiction, PoetryNPEs

    A New Question

    by bkjax September 15, 2021
    September 15, 2021

    The Girl’s Mother left The Girl’s Father when there were just two young boys—before The Girl existed. She left the alcohol and physical abuse. She actually divorced him, though none of her children were aware of that until 83 years later, when a granddaughter stumbled upon the records online. The Girl’s Mother built a small home for herself and her sons. Life was good and she was happy. She had a boyfriend, though no one remains to speak of him, and she was happy for the first time in years. She was as kind as the day is long, plus some, and deserved every happiness. The Girl’s Father had been raised by a harsh and demanding mother, thereby creating a son of similar demeanor. One day post-divorce, The Girl’s Mother opened the door to her ex-husband and his angry mother. The angry woman said, “You will take him back and you will make it work.” Wanting to do right by her sons, The Girl’s Mother allowed The Girl’s Father to move back in. Best guess is that until that day she’d had as long as two years of happiness, free of this alcoholic anchor. The Girl had been born during one of her father’s many temporary stretches of sobriety, and he loved her from the start. The Girl had given him back his family. Many years later, he told The Girl that on the day she was born, he went to the home of her mother’s boyfriend and told him that she would never be his now—that HE had won. This was the first The Girl had heard of a separation and a boyfriend. The Girl grows. There are now two older brothers, a younger brother, and a younger sister. The older siblings like to point out her differences—her different-colored hair, her build, her personality. What they don’t know is she already feels different—odd. She doesn’t feel like she belongs. She is her father’s favorite but her mother’s attention isn’t as easily obtained. Years later, when he is a grown up with children of his own, one brother acknowledges that The Girl’s Mother raised her with a higher level of indifference. He tells her that he has doubted her place in the family and always assumed she was adopted. As if she hasn’t felt this disconnect her entire life.

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  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesNPEsPsychology & Therapy

    Q&A With Gina Daniel

    by bkjax June 16, 2021
    June 16, 2021

    Did your upbringing influence your desire to be a social worker and if so, in what way? I expected to become an elementary teacher growing up and had no idea what social work was until I was in my 20s. However, once I discovered social work, I knew that was what I needed to do. My upbringing was full of moments when I was a little social worker (counseling, advocating, and educating) but I did not know it until later. I was raised by a single father who worked hard to be sure we could pay the rent. All the moms in the neighborhood helped to raise me. You were already a social worker and well into your doctoral studies when you decided to change the topic of your dissertation. Can you explain why you chose to align your scholarly interests with your NPE experience? I was. That was quite the detour. I trust my gut with most everything I do. I could not find a way to study school social work (my profession) in a way that felt interesting to me. Once the NPE event happened, I brought it to my committee and they helped me determine that this was the path that fit better for me. Knowing there was little to no scholarly research at that time was a huge attraction to me as well. I agreed and was willing to do the extra work. How, specifically, did you design your thesis—what were you looking to discover and how did you propose to accomplish that? I knew I would do interviews for qualitative research. The idea of secrets kept was fascinating. Also, the impact that this discovery had on me and how off balance I felt at middle age got me interested in the impact on identity. The obvious path was discussing the impact on family of origin relationships—living or deceased and on the new family relationships—living or deceased. You interviewed 51 people. Can you describe those interviews—how you selected subjects and what the interviews involved? I was a part of one of the private NPE Facebook groups that agreed to work with me then backed out. Another Facebook group offered assistance then stalled. Finally, a woman who was starting another NPE Facebook group offered to assist. I was a member but did not participate for a long time. The process was an advertisement of the study and a link for those interested. The criteria for interviews included having discovered paternity through a direct-to-consumer DNA Ancestry test, living in North America, being over 18. The first round of interviews was in the fall of 2019, the second round of interviews was in the fall of 2020. Unfortunately, the first round interviews were not used in the final study. It’s a complicated story but every one of those interviews mattered significantly to me and, interestingly, my findings were the same. The interviews were incredible. People were so willing to share their personal stories, so interested in helping other NPEs, and were so vulnerable and lovely. I feel incredibly lucky to have shared some time with all of these amazing individuals.

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  • DNA surprisesEssays, Fiction, PoetryNPEsSecrets & Lies

    Too Bad, They’re Dead

    by bkjax March 20, 2021
    March 20, 2021

    “My mother believed in me, and because of that, I believe in myself. And I really can’t think of a greater gift that a parent can give their child.” Those words ended my eulogy, so I stepped down from the podium and solemnly returned to my seat. Later, as I mingled among the crowd, quite a few people praised my remarks.  While kind words are standard at funerals, their comments seemed heartfelt and genuine. I thanked them, adding that praising my mother came easy because of my strong, life-long bond with her, a bond that would be her legacy forever. “Forever” lasted 16 years, ending the day my mother reached up from the grave and wrought emotional ruin on the living, particularly me. I distinctly remember being 11-years-old when my dad heartlessly embarrassed me at a school event. Being at odds with my father was commonplace during my childhood and peaked during my teenage and college years, after which I largely eliminated him from my life. As a child, I recognized fundamental differences between myself and my dad. I looked nothing like him. He was athletic, I was not. I excelled academically, whereas he had struggled as a student. The list goes on. When I returned home after the embarrassing school event with tears in my eyes, I bluntly howled at my mom, “How is he my dad when I’m nothing like him and he’s nothing like me?” “He’s your dad, just try to forgive him,” she replied. Over the next quarter century, I asked her some version of that question on dozens of occasions, sometimes in a calm voice, sometimes in harsh tones through gritted teeth. She always responded with some version of that same answer. For some reason I just accepted her words rather than taking my question toward a logical conclusion, probably because I never realized that trusting your mother was fraught with risk.

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  • Donor ConceptionEssays, Fiction, Poetry

    My Father the Filmmaker

    by bkjax February 3, 2021
    February 3, 2021

    Whenever I tell this story, there’s always the same reaction: “I don’t know what to say.” And who am I to blame them? How could they? I wouldn’t either. Sometimes, I still don’t. I’ve always known. From my earliest waking memories, I knew I was special; I knew that he was special too. Because he was a donor, and I was a donor child, in our unusualness I had a bond with this mystery man. But I didn’t know who he was, and he didn’t know I existed. When you’re a donor child with a single mother by choice, something can happen. There’s a certain void. An abyss. Not a crater, because that would imply something was once there. You feel empty. You feel lonely. You didn’t have a choice. In this situation, everybody but you had a choice. Let’s backtrack. It’s April 2018, and I’m lying on my stomach, stretched out on the stone-cold floor of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, on a retreat. Only three months until my 18th birthday. We were told to take some time to write and meditate. I’d been meaning to write this letter. Now I finally have time to do it. “Dear Dad.” No, that’s not right. Wait, yes it is! “I love you!” “Please love me!” “Please…want me.” Want me, goddammit. I never sent the letter. My 18th birthday arrived. Finally. I reached out to California Cryobank. The deal is that you get three tries to reach out; if the donor never responds, you aren’t allowed to facilitate contact ever again. And the donor has a right to his anonymity. Anonymous until 18. But he still has a right to turn you down when you turn 18. Such a bright age, 18. Shiny, almost. Full of promise and potential. Hope for the future.

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  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesFamily SecretsNPEs

    A Tale of Two Secrets

    by bkjax January 13, 2021
    January 13, 2021

    How does it feel to think you’re related to a monster—and then, decades later, to find out you’re not? The gossip reaches me on New Year’s Eve, two days after my birthday—worth mentioning only because birthdays often put me in a reflective state that can easily turn to melancholy, and this year is no different. I’m in Mexico City, on vacation, about to go to dinner with my husband, mood beginning to lift. Then I receive the email from my sister. It reads: “Considering that Mom could pass any day, I thought I should tell you a.s.a.p. in case you don’t know about it, which I assume you don’t.” The news she shares is second-hand gossip from an old family “friend” who showed up to visit my mother—then dying of brain cancer—to reminisce, burn private letters and relive the good old days. The friend, who played little part in any of our lives for decades, revealed to another family member that my father wasn’t really my father. That person told the sister who emailed me. Now I’m the last in the four-person chain to find out. As for my mom: she’s not talking, and never will, which isn’t surprising given her love of secrets and lifelong fear of being judged for parenting errors. Her fears are valid. I do judge her, most of all for not keeping my sisters safe when we were all younger. Before leaving our hotel room to go to dinner, I reply to my sister: “That’s a big surprise! How lucky I don’t feel especially attached to ‘Dad’ or his side of the family or it could be upsetting.” I take pride in my stoic response and the fact that I severed relations years ago with our late father—an undeniably “bad man.” But that stoicism is really only disorientation. I have no idea, at this time, that my identity and much of what I’d thought about both my parents will have to be recalibrated. I never would have imagined that my mom, a self-identified, non-practicing Catholic with an affinity for the Virgin Mary, probably had multiple affairs when she was still married to her first husband, who came from a large Sicilian-Polish family. But there was a lot about our family I never suspected until each bomb dropped: for example, when, at age 14, I learned that my two older sisters, then 16 and 19, had been molested for years by the sweet-tempered, funny and charming man we called “Dad.”

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  • Micro-MemoirsSpeak Out

    Watching and Waiting

    by bkjax January 6, 2021
    January 6, 2021
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  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesNPEs

    Q & A With Lily Wood, Host of NPE Stories

    by bkjax November 21, 2020
    November 21, 2020

    Tell us about your own NPE story to the extent you’re comfortable sharing it. Seeing only 1% French was the red flag in my initial 23andMe DNA report. I was raised to believe I was significantly French and Norwegian. A few months later I took the Ancestry DNA test to compare from the same database that my sister had used. Those results produced the most shocking and traumatic day of my adult life. I had a half brother appear on my DNA results, and I didn’t have a brother as far as I knew. A trip over to my mother’s house an hour later produced more confusion, dismissal, and a host of secrets started to come out. Apparently, my mother and BF worked together in the 80s and had a one-night stand. My mother never told him she got pregnant and never saw him again, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. My mother still claims she didn’t know to this day. I think the most painful part of finding this out is how my mother, birth father, and newfound family have treated me in the aftermath. How far into your own journey were you when you started your podcast? Six weeks after I had my DNA shock I published my first trailer for the podcast calling for NPEs to share their story and giving a launch date of July 2019. What compelled you to start the podcast? The only comfort I had in those first few weeks of shock was reading other NPE stories on the forums online. I was nodding along with their written stories and scrolling for hours and hours. I would read aloud parts of other NPE stories to my husband at all hours of the day and night. I wanted to be able to listen to these stories as I walked around the house and did my errands. I knew I couldn’t continue to sit in front of a computer the rest of my life but I wanted to bring the comfort of finding others like me everywhere I went. I searched “NPE” on the podcast platforms and at the time did not find anything like it so decided I would produce my own. I realize now I could have used other terms and certainly found other podcasts with these stories on them, but with my limited knowledge at the time I was unable to find other podcasts. Did you initially find NPEs very willing to speak out, or did you have to coax people to share? I have only ever asked one guest. My first one I had to search for on reddit; I was too afraid to ask anyone on the DNA sites because I didn’t want to break the rules and get kicked off if they considered it “self-promotion.” After that I’ve had a pretty steady stream of people who reach out. I’m booked for 22 weeks out. I can only handle about one guest a week at this time because I do everything myself including scheduling, recording, and editing. I’m only a hobbyist—I’m literally learning everything as I go. I believe stories benefit the teller as well as the audience. From your experience sharing people’s stories, can you talk a little about the ways the stories help the listeners, and the ways telling the stories helps the storytellers? I know every story I record is sacred. Somebody out there is listening and nodding along in relief. A lurker, or perhaps a new NPE bingeing on stories all night long when they can’t sleep from the overwhelming grief they are experiencing. I get emails from listeners saying they have been listening or bingeing all night long to some of these episodes. As for the storytellers, I wish I could explain the relief, giddiness, and joy I hear in their voices after I sign off. Some of what they tell me afterwards is pure gold, but of course off the record after I’ve stopped recording. They all sound like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders; sometimes they’re exhausted and yawning. I leave every recording session feeling filled with empathy and love for my fellow NPEs. Why do you think storytelling and sharing is so important for NPEs? I don’t think most NPEs receive true understanding and empathy from people. We get it. We can empathize with each other’s heartbreak, confusion, anger, and, sometimes, joy. Finding a community has been life-saving for me in this journey. In one episode you mentioned that you sought therapy after your NPE discovery. Can you talk about how you chose a therapist and whether it was difficult to find someone who understood NPE issues?

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  • DNA surprisesEssays, Fiction, PoetryNPEs

    It’s Foreign to Me

    by bkjax July 21, 2020
    July 21, 2020

    I radiate a warm glow in the photo—a farmer’s tan from hours of playing outside in the Texas sun. A neighborhood friend had documented the moment via disposable camera. It’s hard to remember what occasion we were marking—an eleventh birthday party, perhaps, or the end of the school year. Whatever the event, my smile is wide, genuine, and my brown eyes are scrunched into happy almonds in a heart-shaped face. This photo never meant anything special to me then, but now I wonder how could I—how could my family –not have questioned my true heritage? I’m 34 years old and I’ve just discovered by way of an at-home DNA test that I’m 25% Japanese. This revelation launches me into a frenetic investigation— activating an old Ancestry.com account, sending cryptic text messages to my parents and brother, and diagramming possibilities on the back of a napkin. After all, my maiden name sounds like a type of sausage and Mom is a freckled redhead, clearly the offspring of Scottish-Irish farmers. Growing up, I’d never been questioned about my whiteness, although there were comments that I tended to tan in a more olive tone than did my younger brother. Since we played outside for 6 hours a day in the southern heat, no one thought twice about it. After hours of frantic speculation, I get a text message from my mother, with whom I have shared the surprising ethnic breakdown. She says, “Can I call you later?” It’s on this phone call that she shares the truth—there was an ex-boyfriend who was half-Japanese just before she and Dad got married. She’s Googled him to find an obituary from 2012. He’s survived by a brother, a wife, and his Japanese mother. Mom sends me the link. The need for information consumes me. Through the names and locations in the obituary, I

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  • Micro-MemoirsSpeak Out

    A DNA Test Revealed I’m a Late-Discovery Adoptee

    by bkjax May 9, 2020
    May 9, 2020
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    1 FacebookTwitter
  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesFamily SecretsNPEs

    Surprise! I’m Your Sister.

    by bkjax April 24, 2020
    April 24, 2020

    The 1953 discovery of DNA’s double helix and the 2003 completion of the Human Genome Project not only have transformed medicine but also have led to the advent of direct-to-consumer DNA testing, an unforeseen consequence of which has been that many people who test unearth long-buried family secrets. I’m one of them. When I was an infant, my parents divorced and my mother disappeared without a trace, so I’m well acquainted with the yearning for an unknown parent. I felt abandoned anew when, 50 years later, a test revealed that I’ve never known either of my genetic parents—that my father wasn’t my father. At the same time, I discovered I’m Italian, not Russian; my family was Catholic, not Jewish; and my fear of the cancers rampant in my father’s family was unfounded. My story—at least the second chapter—isn’t unique. A 2019 PEW Research Center survey found that 27% of home DNA test users discover unknown close relatives. Of these, those whose tests reveal misattributed parentage are known as NPEs—a name referring to the circumstances of conception—a non-paternity event or not-parent-expected. These surprising results and their ripple effects illustrate what Libby Copeland, in her new book on the subject, The Lost Family, calls the “profound and disruptive power of DNA testing.”

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  • BooksShort Takes

    A Broken Tree

    by bkjax October 15, 2019
    October 15, 2019

    It’s surely not hyperbole to say that “A Broken Tree: How DNA Exposed a Family’s Secrets”—a new book by Stephen F. Anderson—is the mother of all NPE (not parent expected) stories. It’s hard to imagine a more epic or stranger-than-fiction tale of misattributed parentage than this. Anderson stared down a series of family mysteries and over decades employed DNA and oral history in an attempt to solve them. He describes his family of nine children as nothing like the “Leave it to Beaver” family he grew up watching on television. He knew his was different, but it took decades to learn just how different. Because his mother, Linda, had little interest in settling down to raise kids and clean houses, and his father, Mark, a fire truck salesman, was on the road a great deal of the time, his older sisters took on much of the burden of caring for the younger children. There were rumors and whispers among the siblings of family secrets, but they were too disjointed and fragmentary to be understood. He turned to the person he most expected to have answers, but was rebuffed. He visited his oldest sister, Holly, to record stories about the family, and she refused to share a single recollection.

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  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesFamily SecretsNPEs

    After A DNA Surprise: 10 Things No One Wants to Hear

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019

    Until recently, most people likely haven’t encountered someone who’s been knocked off balance by a DNA test result, so it’s understandable they might not appreciate the magnitude of the impact. But it’s just a matter of time. Mind-blowing DNA revelations are becoming so common that some DNA testing companies have trained their customer service staff representatives to respond empathetically. While those employees may know the right thing to say, here, in the real world, the people around us often haven’t got a clue how it feels — like a punch to the gut. If you’ve become untethered from your genetic family, you might get a second surprise: some of your friends and loved ones may be remarkably unsympathetic, often infuriatingly judgmental, and sometimes even hostile. It’s clear that although DNA surprises have become ubiquitous, social attitudes haven’t kept pace, and a stigma remains.

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  • BooksShort Takes

    Lost and Found: Dani Shapiro’s “Inheritance”

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019

    Author Dani Shapiro has explored family secrets from every angle in an exceptional decades-long writing career that until now yielded five novels and four memoirs. Revisiting those works, it’s tempting to believe everything she’s experienced and written has been prelude to her 10th book, the bestselling “Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love.” In an earlier memoir, for example, “Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life,” she describes herself in childhood as having been strangely aware unknowns were waiting to be discovered.

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  • DNA surprisesEssays, Fiction, PoetryNPEsSecrets & Lies

    Fractured

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019
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  • ArticlesDNA SurprisesFamily SecretsInterviews & ProfilesNPEs

    Q&A: Therapist Jodi Klugman-Rabb

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019
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    1 FacebookTwitter
  • Essays, Fiction, PoetryNPEsSecrets & Lies

    The Revelation

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019
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    2 FacebookTwitter
  • abandonmentEssays, Fiction, PoetrySecrets & Lies

    Maybe

    by bkjax June 19, 2019
    June 19, 2019
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    4 FacebookTwitter
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What’s New on Severance

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Recommended Reading

The Lost Family: How DNA is Upending Who We Are, by Libby Copeland. Check our News & Reviews section for a review of this excellent book about the impact on the culture of direct-to-consumer DNA testing.

What Happens When Parents Wait to Tell a Child He’s Adopted

“A new study suggests that learning about one’s adoption after a certain age could lead to lower life satisfaction in the future.”

Janine Vance Searches for the Truth About Korean Adoptees

“Imagine for a minute that you don’t know who your mother is. Now imagine that you are that mother, and you don’t know what became of your daughter.”

Who’s Your Daddy? The Twisty History of Paternity Testing

“Salon talks to author Nara B. Milanich about why in the politics of paternity and science, context is everything.”

What Separation from Parents Does to Children: ‘The Effect is Catastrophic”

“This is what happens inside children when they are forcibly separated from their parents.”

Truth: A Love Story

“A scientist discovers his own family’s secret.”

Dear Therapist: The Child My Daughter Put Up for Adoption is Now Rejecting Her

“She thought that her daughter would want to meet her one day. Twenty-five years later, that’s not true.”

I’m Adopted and Pro-Choice. Stop Using My Story for the Anti-Abortion Agenda. Stephanie Drenka’s essay for the Huffington Post looks at the way adoptees have made unwilling participants in conversations about abortion.

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@2019 - Severance Magazine

Severance Magazine
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Severance Magazine
  • About
    • About Severance
    • From the Editor
    • Submission Guidelines: How to Contribute
    • Contact Us
  • Articles
    • abandonment
    • Adoption
    • Advocacy
    • DNA & Genetic Genealogy
    • DNA Surprises
    • Donor Conception
    • Family Secrets
    • Genetics & Heredity
    • Interviews & Profiles
    • Late Discovery Adoptees
    • Psychology & Therapy
    • NPEs/MPEs
    • Search & Reunion
  • Essays & Fiction
    • abandonment
    • Adoption
    • DNA surprises
    • Donor Conception
    • NPEs/MPEs
    • Late Discovery Adoptees
    • Search & Reunion
    • Secrets & Lies
  • Short Takes
    • Short Takes: Books
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    • Short Takes: People, News & Research
    • Short Takes: Podcasts & Radio
  • Self Care & Coping
    • Coping Strategies
    • Self-Care
  • Speak Out
    • Micro-Memoirs
    • Your Video Stories
  • Resources
    • Start Here
    • Abandonment
    • Adoption
    • DNA & Genetic Genealogy
    • Donor Conception
    • Genetics & Heredity
    • Late-Discovery Adoptees
    • NPEs (Not parent expected) & MPEs (Misattributed parentage experience)
    • Psychology & Therapy & Coaching
    • Search & Reunion
    • Secrets & Lies
    • Self-Care
@2019 - Severance Magazine