I hate secrets and surprises. I always have. I attribute this to being a curious person, but on an extreme level. And, even that can be attributed, or at least partially due, to growing up never knowing where I came from, but rather where I ended up.
It’s very possible that my intense curiosity or “the need to know” stems from personality traits that I was born with that were only exacerbated by environmental factors and or personality traits I developed because of environmental factors—being adopted through a closed adoption and the loss of biological connections.
Growing up, I wanted to know who my birth mother was. I wanted to know what she looked like. However, either no one knew who my birth mother was or those that may know couldn’t tell me because it was against the law—such as the attorney that helped my parents adopt me or the doctor who delivered me and who took me home briefly before I was adopted.