Memory: The Great Con Man of Human Nature

Recently, I was watching the TV series Irrational, which is loosely based on the life and work of behavioural economist Dan Ariely.

One line instantly stopped me in my tracks:

“Memory is the great con man of human nature.”

It was so striking that I felt compelled to dig deeper into its meaning.

The more I explored Ariely’s research and writings, the clearer it became:

we tend to place enormous trust in our memories, despite the fact that they are far less reliable than we think.

And that realisation sparked a thought for me; how this understanding could help not only adoptees,

but all of us, to loosen the grip of past experiences, reinterpret our stories,

and move beyond trauma that may be holding us back from living our best lives.

The Myth of Perfect Recall

We like to believe our memory works like a camera: recording life as it happens, storing the details neatly,

and replaying them faithfully on demand. But it doesn’t.

Think about a family holiday or a heated conversation. Compare your recollection with someone else’s,

and you’ll often discover glaring differences. This isn’t dishonesty; it’s the way memory works.

Memory is not a recording device. It’s an act of reconstruction; a story pieced together each time we revisit it.

What Memory Really Is

Rather than a filing cabinet of facts, memory functions more like an information-processing system. It has:

Sensory processors; taking in sights, sounds, smells, and touch.

Working or short-term memory; holding information briefly so we can use it.

Long-term memory; storing fragments of experience for the long haul.

But those long-term memories aren’t limited to what actually happened. They can also include:

Things we imagined.

Stories told to us by others.

Facts or impressions we absorbed from media or books.

Our own emotional interpretation of events.

The influence of our past experiences and unconscious biases,

which act like filters, shaping what we notice, what we value, and what we remember.

This means two people can live through the same event yet remember it in completely different ways;

not only because of the details they picked up, but also because of the meaning their mind assigned at the time.

Over time, these elements merge into what feels like a single, seamless memory,

even though it has been coloured by layers of experience and bias.

Why Memory is Unreliable

Each time we recall a memory, we don’t simply “play the tape.” We edit it.

Details shift. Emotions colour the recollection.

New information seeps in. Psychologist Elizabeth Loftus showed how easily false memories can be planted;

people came to vividly “remember” events that never happened, just because of how questions were framed or stories were told.

Add to this the role of unconscious bias and lived experience: our brains naturally highlight details that confirm

what we already believe and downplay those that don’t.

This ‘confirmation bias’ can make our memories feel rock-solid, when in fact they’ve been shaped

as much by our worldview as by the event itself.

In short: our memories are not snapshots of reality. They are living, shifting narratives.

The Emotional Impact

For adoptees, and for anyone who has faced emotional and psychological trauma, this understanding matters deeply.

Memories, whether crystal clear or blurred, are real in their impact.

The pain, longing, and survival responses that adoptees carry are not imagined; they are lived truths that deserve respect and validation.

Even when memories are preverbal or body-based, they carry weight.

The nervous system, the heart, and the body remember, even if words are hard to find.

What this knowledge offers is not dismissal, but possibility.

By recognising that memory is shaped by emotion, bias, and meaning-making,

we can gently loosen the grip of rigid narratives that may have kept us stuck.

The experiences remain real, but how we hold them in both our body and our memory can shift:

from being a heavy anchor to becoming part of a story we carry with more compassion for ourselves.

For adoptees, this might mean realising that some of what feels like “memory” is an embodied echo;

stress responses, sensations, or an ache that lingers.

These embodied memories are powerful and valid.

Understanding how memory works simply offers another lens, one that can reduce self-blame, i

nvite acceptance, and open the door to healing.

And for biological or adoptive parents, it may mean recognising that the stories they hold are filtered through their own emotions,

societal expectations, and fragments of information.

Different perspectives don’t mean one is “right” and the other “wrong” .… they reflect the personal lens each person carried at the time.

When we understand memory’s complexity, we no longer need to fight over which story is the one truth.

Instead, we can honour each person’s lived experience and create space for

curiosity, awareness, understanding, empathy, and deeper connection.

 

A Closing Reflection

If memory is the great con man of human nature, then awareness is our safeguard.

By remembering that our recollections are stories;

sometimes stitched together from truth, imagination, emotion, and bias we can learn to hold our memories more lightly,

without needing them to be “the one true version.”

And in doing so, we create space to reinterpret our past, release the weight of trauma,

embrace healing and acceptance, and live more fully in the present;

no longer pulled back or traumatised by the need to change what has already been.

#TheEmotionalFingerprintofanAdoptee #AdopteeVoices  #AdoptionAwareness  #HealingJourney  #IrrationalMemory

The Emotional Fingerprint of an Adoptee is an original psycho-educational framework developed by The Chaston Centre.

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© Kazand Investments Pty. Ltd. The Chaston Centre. Karen Chaston 2025   |   All rights reserved.