This Blog will mark my journey after finding out only a few days ago that I had a newfound older brother and two newfound little sisters....I’ll detail my journey into the joys and gripes of siblinghood in hopes of helping others who are trekking on this convoluted, confusing, and emotionally-driven journey.....

Five days ago I found out one of my friends from childhood was really my biological brother!!!! Shocked....is an understatement! This crazy revelation came after years of probing, digging, and ultimately giving up. Before this revelation, I was at the point in life were I had finally become content with the idea that I would never meet my biological father or his family....and then bam I’m smacked right dab in the middle of a scenario that quite frankly I am not prepared for and could potentially make for a pretty awesome Lifetime movie.

So, let me back up and give you some background on the situation. When I was roughly 17 years old, I had a friend in high school find out that she had been adopted by the man she assumed was her father her entire life. Captivated by the made for t.v. real-life scenario that my friend was experiencing, I shared the story with anyone willing to listen and happened upon my little cousin from my father’s side of the family. After sharing with her this newfound revelation in my friend’s house, my cousin acted as all the others I had divulged this juicy information to, except with one distinct difference. She looked at me and said, “Wow, but D’s not your real dad either, right?” In utter disbelief I shot her down quickly and proclaimed without any hesitation or doubt in my mind that he indubitably was my father. I wince when I think back on how completely naïve I was back then. Yes, my younger sister and brother had my father’s last name and I did not. But, I was always told it was because my parents conceived me before they were married and it was the custom back then that only wedded mothers gave their children their father’s last name. Yes, people always said my sister and brother were twins and I was the odd ball out but, my mother always proclaimed we did all look alike. Simply put, I believed what my family told me.

Little did I know, I was being duped the whole time.

After a few nights of late night contemplation of my friends horrific story and with the residue of my cousin’s question echoing in my ear....I begin to develop a plan to uncover the truth. Was it possible? Nah, not my family...not the family I hold in such high esteem...not the family I prided myself on for their high moral fiber. Could it be true? Could I be just another victim like my dear friend? When faced with the fact that I could be walking in the same shoes as my friend....the story no longer seemed humorous or newsworthy. So, I went looking for answers in a stealthy manner. I begin probing my mother and my maternal grandmother on details of how my paternal family and maternal family comingled during my mother’s labor and the days following my birth. Time and time again I was hit with vague, shaky answers that changed slightly each time they were asked. My suspicions rose higher.

Knowing I had an aunt that was what many would refer to as brutally honest; I went to her to find refuge, but most importantly answers. After detailing to my aunt the story of my dear friend, my paternal cousin’s blunt question, and the answers of my mother and grandmother, I asked her what has been the most important question of my life: “Is my daddy... my real daddy?”

Her face showed turmoil and deep contemplation and she looked at me and responded, “I’m just going to tell you the truth, he’s not your real daddy.” Fearing the worst and knowing my aunt is not one for tears, I exploded on the inside, my body temperature rose, and I fought with every fiber in me not to shed a tear. I went home and felt like my world had crashed underneath me. I was sick to my stomach, dizzy....I physically felt like my world was flipped upside down. How could my family do this to me? To me? The first –born grandchild on both my maternal and paternal sides of my family....they lied to me, my little sister, and my little brother? And how did my little cousin know something that I didn’t? Granted we were only three years apart, but she shouldn’t know such sensitive information and I didn’t. Did my paternal family whisper behind my back about me? Did they find humor in my oblivion and naïve state of mind?

That day I went through every emotion possible. I’m an extremely emotional person and I usually don’t hold things in for very long. But, I was not quite sure how to approach the situation with my mother, father, and grandmother, I decided my first course of action was to talk it over with my siblings...

My sister shook her head and started crying. My little brother started crying. And of course, I cried. It was a really surreal moment that I will never forget. It solidified our bond....a solid one. A bond that had been built for many years now through fights over toys and keeping childish secrets from our mother, like sneaking in the kitchen to get cookies, and the bonding we experienced in dealing with the death of our grandfather. Our bond was unbreakable. They comforted me in my sadness and promised to keep it a secret until I was able to confront the family with my revelation. I was in a tough spot because I was eager to confront the family with their betrayal, but my aunt strongly suggested that I leave it alone.

But, I just couldn’t do it. I had to say something...to somebody.

Saturday night we went to visit my grandmother as we often did, still even at 17 years old, I felt as if grandma’s house was some sort of amusement park. So, we sat around and I asked my grandmother one last probing question. I vaguely remember the question. It was something along the lines of which grandmother was the first to hold me at the hospital. My grandmother once again dodged the question, stating it had been so many years ago she couldn’t remember. I became furious. My grandmother who I held on such a high pedestal, was lying to me right in front of my face. This saint who would help a stranger on the street and give her last dime to anyone in need was lying to my face!!!!! I became angrier and angrier as I thought about it and then....I exploded...."WHY ARE YOU LYING TO ME? WHY ARE YOU LYING TO ME? YOU ALL ARE A BUNCH OF LIARS. ALL YOU DO IS LIE. HE IS NOT MY REAL DADDY. DADDY IS NOT MY REAL DADDY AND YOU ARE LYING IN MY FACE!!! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME???” Even now the pain of the moment burns throughout my body....it’s truly an indescribable feeling that is similar to losing a close relative, but instead a portion of you has died.

For several minutes my tantrum continued and my grandmother was in utter shock and disbelief. She frantically called my mother on the phone and attempted to give me the phone so I could talk to my mother and calm down. It only infuriated me more. I exchanged all sorts of shouts and accusations that I can honestly not remember anymore with my mother. At that point, I was not me. I hung up on my mother and called my daddy. “ARE YOU MY FATHER?”I yelled. Baffled and confused my daddy said (I will never forget), “What? Put your grandmother on the phone. What is going on?“ I gave my grandmother the phone and collapsed on the floor...an utter and complete emotional mess. Drained I sobbed as I lay on the ground in a tight ball, comforted by my siblings.

Shortly after my mother rushed over to try to ease me through the situation. She was also obviously an emotional mess and never expected this day to come. She immediately was extremely angry at my aunt for divulging the information to me and the family became divided into two groups. The ones who thought my aunt was absolutely wrong and those who said if put in the same situation they would have done the same thing as my aunt.

 For years I struggled with the information. I only had three names to go by to find out who was this missing family...my biological father’s, his mother, and his father. Coming from a prominent family in my city....my mother and grandmother told me that my biological grandmother closed the door to any information and relationship with my father. He had been sent away to Georgia after stirring up trouble at home and blemishing their reputation. So, the only avenue I had at the time was to face the people who had already said they wanted no parts of me or let it go. Out of fear...I let it go....for a while...and then came Facebook.....