It turned out to be a short-lived experiment that ended when I was talking with one of the security guards at work. He was Taiwanese American, and we talked for a while about growing up Asian in America. I stuck by my goal and didn’t mention I was adopted for most of our conversation, but eventually it felt like I was co-opting another person’s experience or misleading him by not telling him how I grew up. When he asked about my parents and I had an opening to tell him the truth, I felt relieved. We talked a bit about my background, but since he asked first and was genuinely interested, I didn’t feel like I was forcing my story onto someone. I’ve come to realize that, oversharing or not, telling people who I am and where I come from matters to me. I’m proud of the work I’ve done with the communities and organizations I’m a part of, and it means so much to me to do it as an adoptee. Being a Chinese adoptee is both my crutch and my truth, asterisk and all.