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I was 11 years old and I was dressed for a girl scout meeting and usually after the meetings my aunt would pick up but on that day I had forgotten that there would be no meeting. So I stood outside the school and figured I'd just have to wait - as it turned out my other "Aunt" was driving by and saw me, so she pulled into the school and asked what was going on - so I told her. We were standing at the back of her car and honestly - I don't even remember the words now - but I remember the word mom and then "they're your brother and sister". I looked at the rear window of the car and staring back at me were my "cousins" - I was completely confused. She drove me to my Aunts house where my other "cousin" was listening to some records and what she said next really caught me off guard - because she told me that the cousin I was playing with after school was also my brother - but here's the kicker - I was told not to tell anyone I knew. If I told ANYONE then really bad things would happen. They would send me away and I'd never see anyone again. I was terrified, so I didn't say anything, but I remember looking at my cousin while he tried to decide which Beatles record to put on and thinking "wow - he's my brother?" I remember getting in trouble with my mom and then saying (under my breath of course) that "you're not my mom and you can't tell me what to do". Well - the time finally came when I did tell someone that I knew and believe me - at the time - I was 11 years old - it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I'm 44 now and two of my siblings have passed away and the whole adoption thing - it's not bad at all - I have a good life - better than I would have had.
If it all sounds confusing - it probably is - you see I was adopted by my paternal grandparents - my brother was adopted by our paternal grandmothers sister, so we were raised as cousins. My sister was adopted by our maternal aunt. The youngest sister was raised by the biological father and the youngest brother was raised by the mother. It would take a long time to explain how all of us knew of and know each other but I guess I can go into that later.
I would just like to say that I was adopted in the 60's and I guess back then it was recommended that the adoptee not be informed of their adoption - I say to heck with that - tell them - tell them everything you can without judgement on the birth parents behalf. The hate and mistrust takes a while to be forgiven. The truth is always better.
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I'm sorry you were told in such a manner, and made to keep it a secret. Things back in the 60s and even into the 70s were so screwed up in terms of the lies that were told about adoption. One of the things I am most grateful about, in terms of my son's adoption, is that he was told from a very young age, from before he could even really understand it, that he was adopted. He grew up always knowing. I completely agree with your comment "the truth is always better." It tends to come out, eventually, anyway.
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I guess all I can say now is -"it is what it is". My adoptive parents were good to me and after that whole mess finally settled down and I became a teen-ager (and yes - I did rebel), things just had a way of working out. At 19, I lost one of my adoptive brothers to a drunk driver and during that time - by biological brother was told who I was, who he was and I think I felt worse for him. He was 18 and really did feel like his whole life was a lie.
Years went by and after my amom passed away and his amom was dying from cancer - she made sure we had a relationship and he and I became very close - and for all that I am thankful, he was my bestfriend and the one who understood me and everything the most - I lost him 3 1/2 years ago to cancer and at his funeral, my biosister gave me her contact information. It took some time for me to call her - the past being what it was (and that's a whole other story) but now, her and I are working on a relationship as well - I'll probably never have the closeness I had with my brother, but her and I have each other and I do love her.
We (there are 5 of us) were all adopted by family members - so we all knew about each other and where they were - there just wasn't much contact and I actually never did meet my other bsister - who, sadly also died of cancer some 4 years ago.
So how do I feel about all of it now? It's water under the bridge - I don't ever want to see my bmom as I think I would beat her for the things she did and the things that were taken away, but, knowing how she is - I am ever so grateful for the life I was given and the chances I am being given now.