Say you have a friend who is absolutely convinced that she
was switched at birth. She doesn’t have indisputable evidence of this, but she
does have some pretty convincing arguments involving blood types, physical
appearance, and the poor quality of the hospital in which she was born.
Let's say this friend becomes a tad obsessed with her real life Big Business
story, going so far as to drive across country to catch a glimpse of the people
whom she believes to be her biological family. Now your friend is wondering if
she should tell everyone—her children, her siblings, her “biological” family—what
she suspects.
Do you think your friend is going a little cuckoo or rightfully
uncovering her past?
This was the subject of Slate’s most recent Dear Prudence
column, and Prudie was pretty adamant that “Someone
Else’s Child” needed to stop this mad hunt and get on with her life. She saw
only unnecessary pain and confusion to come from airing her theory of a real-life baby swap. Besides, Prudie argued, what’s the point? Even if the highly unlikely had occurred, It's over and done with now.
I tend to be of the school that believes people have a right
to know the truth about their pasts and upbringings. But this does seem like a
case in which “Someone Else’s Child” is simply inviting drama into her life (an
impulse I am all too familiar with, judging from my last three boyfriends).
What do you think? Should “Someone’s Else Child” come clean
or move on?
Photo: allina.com
