This post relates the journey of Ethan, a pseudonym for someone who entered therapy with me to confront the complexities of sharing his deeply personal secret with his girlfriend. It is a journey marked by moments of deep self-reflection, courageous openness, and an unyielding commitment to redefine his sense of self.

When I met Jess, I didn’t think about telling her I was a sperm donor. It felt like an irrelevant detail, something distant and disconnected from the life I was building with her. Back then, my donation had been a transaction, a choice I made in my twenties that seemed clinical, even inconsequential.

But as our relationship deepened, that once-irrelevant detail began to feel like a shadow. I hadn’t lied to her, not outright, but I’d left something important unsaid. The weight of it grew heavier as the years went on until it became a secret I was too afraid to share.

In my twenties, donating sperm seemed simple. I was broke, in grad school, and the process was framed as nothing more than biology: No names, no faces, no personal connections, just paperwork and sterile clinic rooms. It felt detached, like donating blood or signing up for a research study.

At the time, I didn’t think about the future. I didn’t imagine the children my donation might create or how it could circle back into my life years later.........

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