In short, life isn't a cry-and-dry mold in of itself. In fact, lives often don't fit molds. There are common threads in every life, and every life is nonetheless like every DNA code: no two are exactly like, even in twins.
Sometimes, that means that a life will be pretty messy and broken, and unable to have its pieces put together for it. For example, with my life, I don't have all of the pieces that can make others see the puzzle of a Crypto Jew's daughter who came from a background that she never expected. Similarly and to a greater degree, Dylan Farrow doesn't have all of the pieces that can make others see that part of her puzzle on which Woody Allen's traumatic abuse against her is painted.
With some people, they'd have to see the puzzle pieces being made and painted on in order for them to believe that the puzzle exists and that the pieces are somewhere out there, if not right there in their faces. Case in point, this is how I got screwed over when I didn't take everything at face value and wanted to make sure that what I saw was everything that was there, and when I laid out a good number of the puzzle pieces that I do have: