But growing up wasn’t easy. My dad constantly reminded me I wasn’t really his. Anytime I struggled, he’d say things like, “Maybe you got that from your real parents” or “You’re lucky I even kept you.”
When I was six, he told a group of neighbors I was adopted, loud enough for everyone to hear. By the next day, the kids at school were calling me the “orphan girl.” The teasing never stopped, and when I came home crying, Dad just said, “Kids will be kids.” He even took me to orphanages on my birthdays to show me how “lucky” I was compared to the kids there.
For 30 years, I lived believing I’d been abandoned, that I was a burden. My fiancé, Matt, was the first person to encourage me to dig into my past. “Maybe finding out more about your biological parents could bring you some closure,” he said.
At first, I resisted—what was the point? But eventually, I gave in, and a few weeks ago, we went to the orphanage my dad always said I came from. When we got there, the woman at the desk checked the records and said, “I’m sorry, but there’s no record of you here.” My heart sank.
Confused and shaken, we went straight to my dad’s house. As soon as he opened the door, I blurted out, “We went to the orphanage—they’ve never heard of me. Why did you lie?” He froze. “I knew this day would come,” he muttered. Then, slowly, he began to confess.
For thirty years, I believed my adoptive parents had abandoned me because they couldn’t care for me. This story shaped my identity and feelings of belonging. However, a visit to the orphanage I was told I was adopted from shattered everything I thought I knew about my past.
My adoptive father often told me that my biological parents couldn’t provide for me, making me feel both grateful and indebted. But when I visited the orphanage, the matron couldn’t find any record of me. There was no trace of my existence.
Confused, I confronted my adoptive father. He finally admitted there was no adoption. I wasn’t abandoned; I was the result of an affair, and the adoption story was a cover-up to protect the family’s reputation.
The truth was devastating, replacing feelings of abandonment with betrayal. It forced me to reassess my sense of self and my future, beginning a difficult journey to reconcile my past with my new reality.
