Julie Ryan McGue, an award-winning American author and IU alumna, is both an identical twin and a domestic adoptee.
Her first book, “Twice a Daughter: A Search for Identity, Family, and Belonging,” released in May 2021. She maintains a weekly blog and a monthly column for The Beacher, delving into themes of self-discovery, finding your place and making sense of it all.
McGue sat down with the IDS to discuss her upcoming third book, “Twice the Family: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Sisterhood.” The coming-of-age memoir is a prequel to her first book and tells the story of adopted twins in Chicago’s western suburbs from the 1960s to ‘80s, as they seek independence and belonging amid family challenges.
IDS: How did growing up as a twin shape your perception of identity and individuality, especially within a blended family?
McGue: I was lucky to be adopted with my twin sister, which was something the Catholic charities firmly believed. Most adoptees don’t get to grow up with a full sibling like I did, and I guess I always took that for granted until I started meeting other adoptees. She really is a strong part of who I am, and I can’t even imagine who I’d be without her. We were the oldest and my parents kept adding kids to the family, and finding individuality among that was difficult. I was always trying to figure out whether I belonged in this family, and it wasn’t until I found my birth relatives that I felt like I belong to both families and they’re both a part of my identity, making me the person I am. It’s something that takes us a long time to figure out but when we reflect and write our stories, we figure out a lot of things about ourselves.
IDS: What role did your community play in shaping your childhood experiences and family dynamics?
McGue: Back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, families weren't driving their kids around to organized activities. My mom basically opened the door and said “Go on out and play. Make sure you come home before the street lights come on.” While our friend group was important, family was everything. We were expected to drop any kind of activity if my mom needed us to babysit for some reason. I had a younger sibling who was visually impaired, and that really changed our family dynamics a lot. We all had to pitch in and make sure she was always safe.
The story that I wrote is a bit of nostalgia going back to that time, but also a reckoning with a family story that wasn't perfect. My parents weren't perfect. We weren't perfect kids. But somehow it worked because of strong family values and the belief that our parents loved us, and they were trying to do the best they could for us.
IDS: In your memoir, you explore the idea of belonging. How did your search for your biological family challenge or reinforce your understanding of home?
McGue: I was almost 50 years old when I started that process because of a breast biopsy and the need to know my medical history. I always had a curiosity about my birth relatives. I was from a closed adoption, which meant no information about who they were or why we were placed for adoption, or any medical history or background.
I accepted that for five decades and when the state laws in Illinois changed, I got access to a lot of information. It was a slow process but assimilating that into who I was at the time was difficult. I found out things like I'm part Native American. I had no idea. I had no access to that culture. I still struggle a little bit with trying to understand what I'm going to do with that. I think we're always figuring out who we are.
IDS: Were there moments during your search for your genetic history that you felt conflicted?
McGue: There were people judging me saying, “How can you do this to your parents?” And I didn't want it to be a loyalty issue. I couldn't help that I medically needed information, and I didn't feel that it was fair that I should have to choose between knowing the right to know versus my parents' right to privacy or the right to be our parents.
Anybody who grows up in a blended family should be able to say, “This is my family, but that's my family too.” Both families make up who I am. Do we have to be a 100% in on both? No, I think we pick our own balance.
IDS: How would you describe your experience at IU?
McGue: IU was a fascinating place to both of us (McGue and her twin sister) because it was this big world where there were not rules, and we grew up in this household of so many rules. My sister and I went to different sororities. We had different experiences, but we were still there together. IU has a beautiful campus, great educational programs, opportunities galore for people to get involved in, and I really cherish the times I spent there.
I'm still close to so many sorority sisters. Even though we were only together for a short time, I think that connection was important. It was important to me to write about it in this book because I feel like it was a formative chapter in my life.
IDS: What advice would you give adoptees seeking answers about their origins?
McGue: First, I'd say read a lot of good books, and there are a lot of them out there. Ann Fessler's “The Girls Who Went Away” gave a me a lot of context about what it was like to be a birth mother back in the day and the choices society forced them into. Nancy Verrier's “The Primal Wound” explains to adoptees that the first rejection in their life is the parents that place them in another family.
There are also great online support systems. I'm involved in a support group through Catholic charities in Chicago made up of adoptees, birth parents and adoptive parents, and it's a good forum to be able to share thoughts and ideas and understand those opposing perspectives.
I think that that gives you a lot of grace in realizing that there's so much loss in the adoption equation. Everybody loses something, whether it's the right to parent a child or their right to identity, but we gain a sense of self and resiliency if we can triumph over something that was not our fault and become better people for it.
“Twice the Family: A Memoir of Love, Loss and Sisterhood” is set to hit the shelves on Feb. 4.
