Once upon a time, I found out that my dad was not actually my bio dad. I was about 35. And it was, well, I just can’t describe the feeling. I’d grown up loving my dad but always feeling something was off. I actually assumed my mother, who was a bit unstable (LOL), had an affair. Nope, turns out she was married to my bio dad. And my older brother and I were the result.
For 15 years, I proceeded to overthink and process what different people were telling me. I wrote letters and emails and never sent any of them. What if he didn’t want me? What if he didn’t respond? What if… So many what ifs. If you have anxiety, you know what I mean.
I did dna testing. And nothing. Then I tried the other popular test. I saw the match. I wrote more unsent messages. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to look stupid. Or Crazy. A few months later, on a Friday, I got an email. You have a new message from “DAD” in the app. I clicked without thinking. With my heart beating in my ears. He kept it simple, telling me that he was married to my mother when she had me and that he’d wondered about me all these 50 years. He took the leap that I couldn’t.
Cue more overthinking.
After some family discussion, I decided I would reply in the morning. But I couldn’t wait. I’d waited so long already. So without telling anyone, I sent him a quick message via the DNA site and the email he provided.
Just a quick note, ripping off the band-aid, giving him my phone number and asking if we can speak tomorrow. Oh. My. God.
I hit send and then showed it to my husband.
What I Don't Say 