The past few months have been interesting to say the least. In addition to work, home, MBA a part of me is gearing up to be an adoptive mom. This means for most part researching the Internet, catching up on adoption stories and and preparing myself for an eventuality that will change my life irrevocably.
So, as part of my blog hopping I read stories. Stories of how a child came into a family’s home. The child’s birth story as experienced by the adoptive family. In rare cases, I also get to read of the same story as told by the mother who gave birth. It amazes me how essentially the same thing is so different coming from different parts of the triad. Perhaps some day I will get to read of it from the child’s eyes.
Of course, this had me looking back at my own life. At incidents that I remember vividly. The emphasis is always on me. What were my feelings, my reactions, my actions. Somewhere in ‘my’ view of things, all the others in the story get minimized, faded and relegated to the background. Sometimes I hear the same story being repeated from a different point of view and it always amazes me that it sounds so different.
I have done that with pictures too. The way I view a photo is so different from the way others in the same photo view it. We tend to each focus on us first. Does it matter that my friend is looking away in the picture? Not really when I am sporting a smile that eclipses everything else.
What is your take on it? Do you put yourself first or see that your story is not just yours?