AnonymousThe Girl’s Mother left The Girl’s Father when there were just two young boys—before The Girl existed. She left the alcohol and physical abuse. She actually divorced him, though none of her children were aware of that until 83 years later, when a granddaughter stumbled upon the records online.

The Girl’s Mother built a small home for herself and her sons. Life was good and she was happy. She had a boyfriend, though no one remains to speak of him, and she was happy for the first time in years. She was as kind as the day is long, plus some, and deserved every happiness.

The Girl’s Father had been raised by a harsh and demanding mother, thereby creating a son of similar demeanor. One day post-divorce, The Girl’s Mother opened the door to her ex-husband and his angry mother. The angry woman said, “You will take him back and you will make it work.” Wanting to do right by her sons, The Girl’s Mother allowed The Girl’s Father to move back in. Best guess is that until that day she’d had as long as two years of happiness, free of this alcoholic anchor.

The Girl had been born during one of her father’s many temporary stretches of sobriety, and he loved her from the start. The Girl had given him back his family. Many years later, he told The Girl that on the day she was born, he went to the home of her mother’s boyfriend and told him that she would never be his now—that HE had won. This was the first The Girl had heard of a separation and a boyfriend.

The Girl grows. There are now two older brothers, a younger brother, and a younger sister. The older siblings like to point out her differences—her different-colored hair, her build, her personality. What they don’t know is she already feels different—odd. She doesn’t feel like she belongs. She is her father’s favorite but her mother’s attention isn’t as easily obtained. Years later, when he is a grown up with children of his own, one brother acknowledges that The Girl’s Mother raised her with a higher level of indifference. He tells her that he has doubted her place in the family and always assumed she was adopted. As if she hasn’t felt this disconnect her entire life.

The Girl learned early that being a daughter—especially the quiet and different middle daughter—meant there would be expectations. She began waitressing when she was 12 years old, with most of her earnings going in the bank and the rest going to pay her way and buy her own school clothes. The Girl’s Mother didn’t have such expectations of her other children. Because The Girl had a strong work ethic and a kind heart, she was often called upon to help, and she minded her younger siblings on the days she didn’t have to work. One day, The Girl’s Mother sent The Girl’s often troubled brother to retrieve her from school. He hadn’t made his truck payments and would inevitably lose it. When The Girl was a teen, her mother instructed her to empty her savings and pay off the son’s truck, telling The Girl she would own the truck. However, because he was a son, The Girl’s Mother would not make him keep the bargain. The Girl then had no savings and nothing to show for her kindness. The subject was closed. She was just a daughter.

Even after a lifetime of pleasing only to be held at arm’s length by her own mother, The Girl is still a fixer. She flourishes when she is needed. She has unknowingly carried forward the family legacy of ‘sons over daughters.’ She is always fixing her own son, which makes her feel important—included.

Still striving to connect, The Girl moves her family 1,000 miles to be near her parents. When her mother calls, The Girl comes. The Girl’s children love their sweet grandma, but even as little bubs they feel from her a lack of emotion or possibly even interest. A disconnect exists between The Girl’s Mother and The Girl’s children, but not between The Girl’s Mother and her son’s children who live nearby. The Girl’s children are, after all, just the children of the middle daughter.

The Girl stumbles through her journey. She wonders, “Where do I fit?” She doesn’t feel she belongs. She is sad. The feeling of not being enough, of being a square peg in a round hole, is still there all these years later. An emptiness permeates her, and life is a daily struggle. The Girl’s son continues on his path of self-destruction and selfishness. The Girl uses her father’s alcoholism to excuse her son’s behaviors. There’s always an explanation for his poor choices. The Girl’s Mother loves her grandkids but, quite obviously, the son’s children mean more to her than the daughter’s.

The Girl’s Daughter seeks counsel during a rough patch in her marriage. The Girl has previously advised her separated son to return to his wife and stay together for the children. Yet she advises her daughter to leave her husband while she’s young enough to meet another and, possibly, have a son. The ultimate prize.

Life continues, and The Girl’s expectations and hopes have dimmed. The Girl’s daughter is grateful to have had daughters and, gradually, also thankful that she won’t blindly perpetuate the cycle of superiority of sons. Not having a son also means her daughters won’t suffer at the hands of a brother as she did, struggling from age 5 to 16 to keep her brother way from her—from trying to touch her and expose himself to her. He was physically violent, too, throwing things at her and hitting her. The paint on the inside of her bedroom door was splintered and falling off from him banging on it so hard trying to get in. She was a quiet, religious girl, so it was especially traumatizing. The feeling of filth he bestowed on her during her childhood that she pushed down has left her scarred. Yet, when she told her mother this, her response was, “It happens.” The accused is, after all, her son. Did she feel that prioritizing the son would make her own mother proud? What other reason could there be for sweeping away such a confession?

The Girl’s Husband gets sick, and there are hospital stays and new worries, yet her indifference to her spouse of 58 years continues. It becomes obvious that the indifference in which the girl was raised has followed her into her own marriage.

In an attempt to find common ground, The Girl’s Daughter gives her parents DNA kits. She hopes that between tests and surgeries, they will explore their roots.

The Girl has lived a lifetime of distancing and an inability to truly connect to anyone but her son. She believes it to be based on the fact that she is just a daughter. She’s carrying on the mistakes of the past, handed down from her mother. Today, the effects ripple through the next couple generations: indifference in marriages, the sons being given privileges, the inability to form friendships.

A year on, a widowed woman sharing her home with her overly enabled son and daughter-in-law, The Girl still asks the question “Where do I fit?” This feeling of unmooring, and the question of being, have haunted The Girl from the beginning.

The Girl returns to her DNA test for answers, and the quest to discover the identity of her mother’s unknown boyfriend changes from a simple historical query to a genealogical necessity.

The Girl realizes that her deep-rooted question—where does she belong?—has morphed into a new but equally perplexing one: Was the indifference shown to her as a child rooted in the difference in gender? Or a difference in paternity?

The next generation, The Girl’s Daughter, commits to finding the answers. She spends hours, days, weeks, and years researching. She now knows that The Girl’s Father has no branch in The Girl’s family tree but The Girl’s Mother’s unnamed boyfriend from years past does. There are new ethnicities to study, new family stories to learn, new relatives to meet. The Girl’s Father will always be The Girl’s “dad,” but the unknown man is actually her father.BEFORE YOU GO…

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By Bianca ButlerAs a young child, I didn’t know that my mother and her twin sister (now deceased) had been adopted in 1960. I found out in 2000, when, after nearly 40 years of silence, their biological mother wrote to the twins asking to reunite.

That year, when I was 12, we all met my biological grandmother for the first time at dinner in Old Town Sacramento—me, my mother, my aunt, my younger sister, and my adoptive grandmother. By meeting her biological mother, my mother learned her biological father’s identity and that she and her twin are of mixed-race ancestry: African American and white. Their biological mother had been a young African American college student at the University of California, Berkeley when she relinquished her twin daughters for adoption. They were born in a time in the United States when interracial unions were not only taboo but also illegal (Loving V Virginia) and when young unwed women were shamed and stigmatized—a time known as the Baby Scoop Era, from 1945 to 1973, before Roe V Wade in 1973.

My biological grandmother is a trailblazer. She was a college student and Delta Sigma Theta Sorority member at UC Berkeley from 1958 to 1962. She was the daughter of an educated Army chaplain, and her family deeply valued education. When she arrived at UC Berkeley in 1958 from Riverside, California, she was one of roughly 100 African American students on the campus. Berkeley, which she describes as having been bohemian at that time, was a different world to her than Riverside. There, she enjoyed ethnic foods along Telegraph Avenue and the poetry of the Beat writers such as Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac.

On campus in her freshman year, my grandmother met an artist from the Midwest who found her attractive and wanted her to sit for a painting. (She still has this painting today). They had a casual friendship, a brief affair, and an unplanned pregnancy. A few months after giving birth, she decided it would be best to relinquish her newborn girls for adoption due to social pressures and lack of support. She went on to graduate from Berkeley in 1962, earning a bachelor of arts in political science. The twins were adopted together in a closed adoption by a loving and devoted African American family in the Bay Area.

In my late teens and college years, I became deeply curious about the origin story of my mother’s biological parents. Getting to know my grandmother, I was proud to discover we are at least three generations of college graduates. She, my mother, my younger sister, and I all have college degrees. My grandmother and my younger sister even have their master’s degrees. I’m extremely proud of that legacy. It’s one I want to pass on to the next generation.

Although I first learned about the identity of my mom’s biological father in 2000, I didn’t become interested in learning about him until I was in college and exploring my family history. To my surprise, I discovered that he’s an internationally known artist who lives near Central Park in Manhattan. He has a resume full of accolades and accomplishments in the art world spanning several decades.

I first tried to contact him in 2007, when I was in college. I wrote to him at the Manhattan studio address on his website, and when I received no response, I moved on. In 2018, I noticed he used an Instagram account to promote discounted custom portrait paintings of people and pets. I wanted him to do a painting of my mom, and I thought this would be a clever way to reach him. I sent a message on Instagram saying I was interested in a custom painting and asked how I could send him a photo. I was surprised that he responded quickly, and, as he instructed, I sent him two photos by email. But when it came time to make the $500.00 payment to him, I was hesitant to move forward, and he was upset because he’d already started the two portraits.

I finally gave in and sent him a sincere and heartfelt message revealing my identity as his biological granddaughter and the truth of why I had contacted him, and I included my phone number.  Within a couple hours, he called me back. He immediately said he’d received my first communication—the letter I sent him in 2007, when I was in college. The crazy thing is, he told me, he received an email message a week earlier from my mom with her photo and a short letter saying she wanted to meet him. I had no idea my mom had been trying to contact him too.

In our phone conversation, he said he remembered very clearly having had an affair with my grandmother during the Berkeley years but denied that he was the father of the twins. We spoke for about 30 minutes and later communicated briefly through email, during which I asked jokingly if he grew up eating lefse (a popular Norwegian flatbread) and if he liked the music of ABBA. He said lefse was a special holiday treat in his family, and he never heard of ABBA. Even though the contact was brief, it felt good to finally hear his voice and to be acknowledged. The contact ended and he sent me a letter for my mother, his artist biography, one of his essays, a photo from his 20s, and the two portraits he painted of my mom—free of charge. I decided it was finally time to do an Ancestry DNA test to help me get more facts about my racial identity and heritage. The Ancestry DNA test confirmed that I’m 31% Norwegian and, through the DNA matches, that I’m related to his cousins. I sent him the DNA results, but he’s still in denial and, sadly, not open to a relationship.

Finding biological family and taking a DNA test can bring great joy and excitement, but it can also bring rejection and disappointment. With millions of people taking DNA tests such as those offered by 23andMe and Ancestry to reveal their heritage and find long lost relatives, it can be important for people testing to consider having a support system or a therapist to help cope with the possible emotional fallout. It can be very emotional opening up old generational wounds that still haven’t been healed. It’s important to prioritize your mental health and self-care in this process. I found talking with a therapist and supportive friends as well as writing to be helpful. Also, some people don’t want to be found, especially when race and adoption are factors, and I’ve had to accept that reality. I would love to have a relationship with my grandfather and learn about his life and his lifelong passion for art. I’d love to visit art galleries and travel to NYC, but that may never happen. It may be wishful thinking.

On a positive note, through Ancestry DNA I was amazed to connect with a cousin on my mom’s paternal side who is close to my age and open to connecting. She moved to Sacramento from Minnesota last year for graduate school, and we plan to meet. From her own ancestry research, she was able to give me more information about our shared heritage and ancestral homeland in Fresvik, Norway, which, in addition to Oslo, I hope to visit.

Even though my mom doesn’t talk about her childhood or her feelings about being adopted, I know it must have affected her. It’s been a long journey, but it’s given me deeper understanding, pride, and appreciation of who I am and my unique family history. I don’t know what the future holds or whether I will ever meet my biological grandfather, but I appreciate the contact I did have with him and his custom paintings of my mom, and I remain optimistic.Bianca Butler is a SF Bay Area native raised in the suburbs of Sacramento, California. She’s a graduate of Mills College, an alumna of VONA, and a family historian. She enjoys non-fiction writing, digital storytelling, and public speaking. She plans to continue writing family stories about the legacy and lifelong impact of adoption. Butler dreams of doing ancestral homeland trips to West Africa and Norway and documenting the experience through writing and film. She lives in Sacramento, CA. Contact her at biancasoleil7@gmail.com.Severance is not monetized—no subscriptions, no ads, no donations—therefore, all content is generously shared by the writers. If you have the resources and would like to help support the work, you can tip the writer.

On Venmo, @iambiancasoleil

By Candy Wafford“Dad had the same color green eyes,” my brother said as he slid into the booth across from me. I was meeting him and my sister for the first time, and as much as we were trying to keep things light, it was awkward. I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax, and smoothed the navy sundress I chose to wear for an occasion that was casual yet monumental. I smiled and looked at my new brother’s face—the face of a stranger—yet one in which I saw a whisper of familiarity. Squirming in my chair, I realized I could be talking about my own face, one I barely recognized anymore.

How did I get here? I’d taken a DNA test for fun, never imagining it would change my life and my identity. Finding out that my dad—the man I grew up thinking was responsible for my thick hair and long skinny feet—was not my biological father rocked my world and led me on a journey of tearing myself apart and putting myself back together again.

Stumbling across the word ecotone recently, I learned it is the area between two biological places with characteristics of each. A marsh, the boundary between water and land, is an ecotone. Like a marsh that is part this and part that, I too, am an ecotone.

Finding out the truth of my paternity was a gradual process; I was like an archaeologist painstakingly cleaning layers of dirt from an artifact. First were the DNA test results with unexpected heritage. This led to examining my existing family tree, each climb up it leading to dead ends. DNA testing companies notify you when your DNA matches someone else in their databases, and as I began to receive these notifications, the names of the matches were foreign. I realized something was out of place, and my gut was telling me it was me. I began receiving messages from my DNA family, each one kind and inquiring, as they too were trying to make me fit.

Eventually, suspicions turned to proof, and my biology shifted. I was out of place. Unlike tectonic shifts that move the Earth’s plates either toward or away from each other, finding out that I biologically belong somewhere else, simultaneously moved me away from one place and toward another.

At times I felt adrift, clinging to what I had always known about myself and my family, and at others time slowly swimming to this new place, like a chunk of an iceberg breaking off and floating alone in a dark blue sea. Often exhilarated and sometimes exhausted, I felt like I was straddling two places, two families. Not really fitting into either. Bits and pieces of each floating inside me, like the delicate snow in a globe before it settles to reveal the scene that had been hidden.

Someone asked me recently if I had suspected anything growing up. I didn’t. No one did. I had often wondered why I was different, but attributed it to being a middle child or maybe to my parents’ divorce or my mother’s death. Never questioning made the surprise even more jarring, a lightning bolt striking the relative calm of my life.

I played it cool when relaying the news to my siblings, the ones that I grew up with, each one shocked, because none of us had questioned my place. “You always were different than us,” said my brother, upon finding out we didn’t share the same father. And I was different than my family, but the differences weren’t startling. They were subtle, like one of those which-one-doesn’t-belong puzzles where you squint to find small differences like an extra stripe on a tie or one sleeve longer than the other.

As my new truth sunk in, I began seeing evidence that this other part of me had been there all along. My husband and I were on vacation in Lisbon and had spent a hot and sticky day sightseeing in the city. As we stepped into the cool air of our rental, I spied myself in a mirror, my hair, curly and wild, a halo of frizz from the humidity. “We should have known, just from my hair,” I said wistfully to my husband as he brushed past. And all those summers growing up, before parents slathered their little ones with sunscreen, it had been the Mediterranean blood running through my veins that protected my fair skin as it became the color of honey, while my sister’s skin turned as red as a berry. A hundred little signs.

Now when I see snapshots of my past, I feel a confusing jumble of emotions—sadness, anger, and melancholy—as tears sting my eyes. I pore over the photos, looking for things that didn’t belong in one place and those I found in the other place. I’ve become a new version of myself. An ecotone adapts and absorbs elements of two places; so had I.

I’ve made peace with who I am, but I often feel like a shadowy figure in both families, not fully belonging to either. I have eleven siblings, but none with whom I share both a mother and a biological father. This once stirred feelings of loneliness, but I now see it makes me unique, and I am working on appreciating it. I still search my face, with eyes the same color of green as a father I’ll never meet, but my face is my own again. And just as an ecotone is rich and diverse because it is made up of two lands, so am I.Candy Wafford lives in Lexington, Kentucky with her husband and her cat, Roxie. When not selling software, she loves baking, traveling, spending time with her daughter, and eating ice cream. Her memoir-in-progress explores how she was able to find acceptance and release her grief from early mother loss and finding out she was an NPE. Follow her on Instagram @whereivebeentravel and check out her blog about travel and food, Where I’ve Been Travel.BEFORE YOU GO…

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By David Sanchez BrownI was not the dream son my adoptive parents envisioned I’d be. I was a clumsy, overweight kid with Coke-bottle thick glasses and learning disabilities who couldn’t seem to do anything right—couldn’t even throw a ball. Father-son relationships can be challenging enough in biological families, but I learned early that they’re even more complex for an adopted son.

I was adopted in 1956, but my adoption was a lifelong event. It was a closed adoption, meaning that all genetic connections were severed when a new birth certificate was issued. This separation from my birthmother was the first trauma I experienced, and it influenced every aspect of my life. It diminished my self-esteem, disrupted my identity, and left me unable to form secure and satisfactory attachments.

My adoptive parents made a crucial mistake in waiting until I was eight to tell me I was adopted. I have no idea why they waited so long. I had already established a strong bond with my them, and it confused and shattered me. When I said, “You’re not my real mother, then,” my mother’s face contorted. She looked possessed when she came at me and screamed in my face, “How dare you to question my motherhood, you selfish boy.” My father just stood there and let her rage. It took a moment, but the damage was permanent. I never trusted her after that. Not only had I lost my mother at birth, but now I had a mother who didn’t love or like me.

I’d bonded with my dad early on, but after the adoption talk, my relationship with him, too, changed. I had a younger brother, also adopted, and a younger sister—my parent’s biological child—but since I was the oldest son, there was more pressure on me. I was expected to be of blue-ribbon caliber. He forced me to play catch with him and he had no patience. “Pay attention and keep your eye on the ball,” he’d holler. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I always dropped the ball. When he and the kids on the block called me Charlie Brown, it stung.

My efforts to understand geometry were equally dismal. Late nights at the kitchen table with my dad doing homework, we were both stressed. He’d throw back another shot of Cutty Sark whiskey, yelling “pay attention” and cuffing my ears. I’d get debilitating stomach aches. I still hold those memories in my body, especially in my hunched shoulders. I felt broken and internalized the shame of not being enough for my dad.

An alcoholic with a violent temper, my dad was as unsafe as my mother was hot and cold emotionally. He would often say that how I turned out would reflect on him; I had to be perfect, and he was an unrelenting perfectionist. He needed me to be an extension of him, but  I couldn’t. I was the antithesis of him. Perhaps he felt I would become like him as if by osmosis.

It pained me that I couldn’t be more like my dad, but I couldn’t; I was another dad’s son. The more he pushed me, the more I shut down and retreated into my inner world of remote islands.

I didn’t look or act like anyone else in the family. I stuck out like a sore thumb and I became the family scapegoat. The more withdrawn I grew, the more my father would verbally and physically abuse me, especially after he’d been drinking. I reacted by dissociating, which only accelerated in my mid-teens. Alcohol became a way to numb my feelings, and later I’d rely on prescription drugs like Xanax. I stayed that hurt kid most of my life, and it prevented me from being an adult. Now I know dissociation was a trauma response.

When I finally left home, I was an empty shell—no identity, no personality. I didn’t know how to take care of myself and I drifted. My life up until then had been all about surviving from one day to the next. I believed I only deserved dysfunctional, toxic relationships, including those in work environments. But I never connected my feelings about myself with having been adopted. I thought I was a failure and unworthy of unconditional love.

In September 2006, while I was visiting my mother, she casually handed me my adoption documents. The first page contained the court decree. It stated that David Lee Carroll would now be known as David Raymond Brown. The shock of that news was a gut punch, and I threw up. I joined an adoption registry at adoption.com, but received no response. I didn’t aggressively search for my birth parents, and although DNA testing became available in 2012, I didn’t test. I was afraid to find birth family. I was afraid I wouldn’t be enough and that they, too, would be disappointed in me or might reject me—a secondary rejection.

But then I read Dani Shapiro’s “Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love”—in which she discovers after taking a DNA test that her dad wasn’t her biological father and she searches for and finds the man who was. I’d always felt incomplete, so I put aside my fears of rejection and took a risk. I took an AncestryDNA test, but I didn’t consider the emotional impact of what I might find.

On July 27, 2019, while I was on the treadmill at the gym, I got a text from Ancestry DNA. My results were ready to view online. I got dizzy and almost fell; I hit the emergency stop cord and sat down. I had a first cousin match and I messaged her immediately. A couple of minutes later, she responded. There would be many phone calls and trading of pictures before I realized I’d struck gold. I was in a state of shock, and seeing pictures of my bio father I got the whole meaning of genetic mirroring for the first time. I could see myself in him, a genetic connection. But I didn’t know for sure if he was my father. My paternal first cousin put me in touch with someone I’d later learn is my half-sister, who agreed to take a DNA test. And five weeks later, Ancestry confirmed that we shared the same father. I also learned I have two other sisters. It was overwhelming; I had to walk away for a few weeks. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.

So, who was this man? Who was my bio father, and was I like him? Did I have his traits?

As I came to know more about my paternal family, I discovered a history of addiction and mental health issues. Learning about this medical history gave me insight into my struggles. Knowing about it sooner might have saved me a lot of wear and tear.

I also learned my biological father was a fraternity party boy with a reputation for being a jokester in front of an audience. But he often was the butt of the jokes, which was painful to learn because I, too, had been laughed at when I thought I was the life of the party. My sister gave me a photograph of him wearing fluorescent orange shorts and holding a beach umbrella; I couldn’t accept it. It wasn’t what I wanted to remember and it was an unpleasant reminder of all the embarrassing pictures of me.

I also learned my biological father had been physically abusive toward one of my sisters, which made me physically sick. It hit a nerve because it reminded me of my painful past. I don’t think any of my sisters fully recovered, and I am only now able to live free of the traumatic memories of growing up.

Over the past two years, learning about my origins and my genetic inheritance has helped ground me. It’s been painful finding the truth, but I am no longer that hurt boy. I am the cycle breaker. I’m grateful I didn’t have children. I might have passed down the generational trauma. I couldn’t risk anyone else’s life. Honestly, I was hoping my bio father would be more, and maybe that’s like my adoptive dad wanting me to be more. I think all these desires were unrealistic.

I carry my ancestors inside me. I bear my biological father’s genes and the imprint of my adoptive father’s abuse and disappointment. But I am not either of my fathers. I am my own man.David Sanchez Brown is retired and living in San Jose, CA, with his partner. In 2019, he created a blog, My Refocused Life Adopted, to document his adoptee journey to find his lost identity. You can follow him on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter to read about his journey.Severance is  not monetized—no subscriptions, no ads, no donations—therefore, all content is generously shared by the writers. If you have the resources and would like to help support the work, you can tip the writer.

On Venmo: @David-Brown-0516BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page for more articles and essays about NPEs, adoptees, and genetic genealogy.

• Please leave a comment below and share your thoughts.
• Let us know what you want to see in Severance. Send a message to bkjax@icloud.com.
• Tell us your stories. See guidelines. 
• If you’re an NPE, adoptee, or donor conceived person; a sibling of someone in one of these groups; or a helping professional (for example, a therapist or genetic genealogist) you’re welcome to join our private Facebook group.
• Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag.

By Jen CarraherThere are moments in our lives when the coincidences of being a human in an often-discordant world can feel overwhelming. In the early 2000s, as a young graduate student, I examined the (then-new) assisted reproductive technologies and ideas of relatedness: how material (flesh and blood) and information (genes) are used to help define different anthropological kin structures. In short, I somewhat blindly argued that the primacy of the biological part of relatedness could be surmounted through “different” ways of relating to define family. In hindsight, it was complacent to exclude the biological from my anthropological study of family. Little did I know that almost 15 years later my life would collide with these notions, head-on.

In late December 2020, I discovered through an at-home DNA test (gifted to me by one of my kin, nonetheless!) that I share no biological or genetic link with the man who, for 47 years, I believed to be my father. What’s more, the man with whom I do share half of my genetic material—and a remarkable physical likeness—has, for my entire life, been living with his family just miles away from my hometown and from the group of people I have always called my kin.

There’s an idea in anthropology that kinship is a mutuality of being: kin are intrinsic to one another’s identity and existence. The relational nature of kinship, traditionalists argue, lies in the fact that all those who are “related” are connected through the lineage of the mother and the father and, therefore, share traits and qualities that can be traced through these parental origins: biological, cultural, communal, genetic. Such ideas of relatedness, which were once seen as fundamental, came under scrutiny in the 2000s as deterministic. Cultural critics argued kinship as outmoded altogether, particularly in light of assisted reproductive technologies such as invitro fertilization, intrauterine insemination, gamete donation, and surrogacy. Today, however, the centrality of kinship to relatedness has been brought back to life, likely influenced by DNA testing. I’ve wondered lately whether this is because understanding ways of relating has come full-circle and we now recognize that while kinship and relatedness can be all-encompassing, the “intrinsic” nature of biology is still fundamental to a person’s identity? As an adult who inadvertently uncovered her misattributed parentage, I would argue that this is absolutely the case.

It is the nature of our progressive and progressing society to believe that we can surmount such simple notions as biological relatedness. But the fact that social, cultural, and biological ties are intricately woven together into the fabric of our selves is crucial to understanding our essence as human beings. We are social animals, but we are closely tied in both familial and biological ways to those with whom we share our DNA. That’s not to say that other forms of relating are not of equal significance; but when I speak with other NPEs about our fundamental nature, I’m struck by the way in which every single person describes the gap between the familial/cultural/social identity and the biological/genetic self. It is remarkably common, in fact an almost universal sentiment, for NPEs to express a feeling of growing up with a lack of connectedness, a feeling of otherness, a clandestine identity as an outsider looking in … even in the happiest of families.

There’s a misconception that discovering the parent by whom one was raised is not one’s biological parent is simple. The argument goes something like: “The parent who raised you did so because he loved you like his own child, regardless of his relatedness to you.” I don’t know how many times since my DNA discovery I have been faced with the “What’s the big deal?” response. Such fallacies, that one’s relationship to the person who raised you somehow supersedes the absence of the person who made you is a painful mistake I, too, made so many years ago. Because the nature of having a misattributed parent means, by default, the relatedness to the person responsible for our being has been erased, we forever live with the knowledge that the person responsible for our creation may not even be aware of our existence. The psychological effects of that erasure permeate all aspects of a life, even before we understand why.

Obviously, a large part of this feeling of erasure cannot be separated from the fact that the relatedness (or lack thereof) has been kept secret. It’s hard to tease out whether the intrinsic biology of kinship or the underlying secrecy is the culprit for the loss-of-self articulated by so many NPEs. Who we imagine ourselves to be and who were are come into stark contrast when our true biological and genetic roots are revealed and we are brought right back to the traditional idea of kinship: kin are intrinsic to each other’s identity and existence.

The fundamental conundrum of who we are should never be denied by “objective” academic observers or obscured by insensitive assumptions like those I made years ago. We actively seek kinship narratives to define who we are. When the biological understanding and the social construct of the family come in direct opposition to one another, we are forever changed. All of the stories we have told ourselves about who we are, how we were made, where we come from, and who we hope to be are altered forever. There’s a new kinship forged through a knowing that was lost to us long ago. There are stories we have told ourselves that make us who we are, and we have to find new ways of relating, new stories to tell ourselves, as Joan Didion famously wrote, in order to live.

*NPE = not parent expected, or non-paternal eventJen Carraher lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she is an advanced practice nurse in a busy community hospital. She is also a medical sociologist who has worked extensively over the past 20 years in women’s health, assisted reproductive technologies, and the social studies of science. With her sisters and brother, Carraher grew up in northwestern Montana; she uncovered her misattributed parentage in December while helping her mother, who is adopted, find her own biological father. After her DNA discovery, Jen began a podcast entitled Unfinished Truths and hopes to use the stories she is collecting to reimagine kinship through the NPE experience. Connect with her at unfinishedtruths@gmail.com and read her previous work on kinship through ResearchGate.BEFORE YOU GO…

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On an October day in 2016, Adrian Jones set out on what was for him a common pastime — a strenuous mountain bike ride with friends. Midway up a steep grade, Jones — who by all appearances was fit and healthy — began experiencing alarming symptoms including extreme fatigue, nausea, lightheadedness, and, ultimately, chest pain. His friends rushed him to Marin General Hospital, oddly the same place where the adoptee had been born almost 47 years earlier. There, he was diagnosed as having had a “widowmaker” heart attack, his left anterior descending artery having been 100% occluded.

Grateful to have survived this typically lethal heart condition, Jones heeded a voice he heard when he was in the ICU. It said, “Find your birth parents!” With the help of a genetic genealogist, he did, and he discovered that heart disease runs — gallops — in his family, having killed an uncle at age 52 and both of his maternal grandparents, his grandmother at 65 and his grandfather at 71.

Jones’ story illustrates why having a family medical history is essential. Had he known what he now knows, he would have been able to undergo appropriate screening and might have been able to detect a problem before it had the potential to become lethal.

Although many of us are blocked at every turn when trying to gather information about our inherited health risks, continuing to do everything possible to obtain such information — including advocating for the right to have it — is crucial. But until you’re able to know more about the potential issues that may be a part of your family’s legacy, DNA testing may be the only path you can take to improve your awareness of your genetic risks and minimize them.For most humans, the bulk of our DNA is sequenced similarly. A small percent of our DNA — roughly 0.5% — differs. Within that 0.5% are the genes that influence our risks for various health conditions and diseases. Though knowledge of DNA sequencing and the human genome in general has advanced tremendously, making it possible to detect vulnerability to many heritable diseases, there remains much that’s unknown. Thus, while DNA testing can help indicate possible health risks, at worst it’s imprecise and can be misinterpreted and at best it doesn’t provide the full picture. Understand going into it that it won’t give you a road map to your future health, nor will it diagnose disease. But it may permit early detection of diseases and in some cases can be a lifesaver.Although there are now many companies that offer direct-to-consumer (DTC) DNA tests, the best known of these, 23andMe, was the first to receive FDA approval to market tests providing information about genes influencing health and disease. Recently, another of the leading genealogical testing companies, MyHeritage, has begun offering a health test. The tests look for genetic variants called single nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) that are associated with risk for developing a number of diseases, including Parkinson’s disease, age-related macular degeneration, early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, and breast cancer. They also show whether you have a genetic variant (once known as a mutation) that may contribute to diseases you can pass on to your children, such as sickle cell anemia or cystic fibrosis. If you have one copy of a gene variant associated with a condition, you are a carrier. A child whose parents both have that variant will develop that genetic disorder.

But these tests don’t tell the whole story and don’t examine all genes that influence disease risk.

Before selecting one of these tests, especially when considering one from a lesser-known business, research the company’s track record, look at the credentials of the team, and ensure that you’ll have access to representatives who will answer all your questions. Look for guidelines about choosing a DTC test from the National Institutes of Health’s National Library of Medicine.If you’ve taken an autosomal DNA test for genealogical purposes, you can download your raw DNA file, which contains a sampling of your DNA. Then you can download that information to any of a number of services, such as Promethease, LiveWello, or Sequencing, that will use that raw data to generate health reports, in many cases involving many more conditions and risks than those addressed by the major DTC tests and in far greater detail. The results, however, can be both bewildering and anxiety-provoking. I’ve uploaded my DNA to each of these companies and, despite having been a health journalist for many years, I find the reports both difficult to understand and somewhat alarming. Even if you have a science background as well as the time and motivation to learn to how to interpret the findings, you may believe you understand the results, but it’s likely that without the assistance of a genetic counselor you may misinterpret the findings, and the consequences can be serious.

In addition to these third-party tools, new programs and apps are appearing almost daily that purport to tell you how to best eat, exercise, sleep, and even age based on your DNA. These may offer results pertaining to such traits as metabolism, muscle strength, sleep, and nutrient absorption. They may be interesting and entertaining, but their science base is questionable and they’re of little use if you’re looking to fill in the gaps of your knowledge about health risks. And as with everything, it’s a question of buyer beware. It’s a caveat that’s especially important when these companies also aim to sell you supplements, programs, or other products they claim are individualized to your specific needs as indicated by your genes. The evidence for the effectiveness of the DNA analysis and of the associated programs and products in many if not most cases is lacking.All of these DTC approaches have benefits and limitations, the former being chiefly that they’re simple, noninvasive tests that may allow you to become aware of health risks before a condition develops and to take preventive measures or they may point to existing conditions and lead you toward prompt treatment. They generally are less expensive than medical-grade tests and typically do not require recommendation by a physician. However, the gap is closing, with some newer, more affordable medical-grade options, such as tests by Invitae, Color Genomics, and some of the Helix tests, says Kirkpatrick.

Sadly, the list of the limitations of DTC testing is much longer:

Genes are only part of the picture. Just because a condition may run in your family doesn’t mean it’s truly all in your genes. Your genetic inheritance is just one component of disease risk. Also influencing your risk are your environment, your lifestyle choices, and the interplay of multiple genes. Moreover, although your genes don’t change with time, the knowledge about them and available testing options do. “Most genetic variants that are associated with disease are actually not predictive, meaning we can test for a condition but it doesn’t mean that condition is going to develop because there’s a lot more complexity to disease development,” says Kirkpatrick. A condition such as type 2 diabetes, for example, “takes more than 1,000 different markers and environmental exposures to develop, so it’s not just a one-gene, one-condition situation, and most diseases involve multiple genetic variants in multiple different areas. Individually, each of the markers may only have a small impact on the risk, but all together they can influence a person’s risk to develop that condition,” she explains.

They may provide false reassurance and arouse unnecessary worry. Consumers typically lack adequate information to allow them to interpret the results accurately and may believe, incorrectly, that because a test doesn’t flag any variants for a particular disease, they have no risk for that disease. The opposite is also true. They may see one or more variants flagged for a particular condition and assume it means they will develop the disease, when in fact the results do not, and cannot, indicate that. Genetic testing may reveal information that might be alarming, confusing, or that you simply might rather not know. If your test reveals a gene that contributes to a deadly cancer, for example, without additional information and context, you might experience a great deal of anxiety. As noted earlier, that anxiety might be misplaced, since that gene alone is no real indication of your risk and because false positives are not uncommon.

They support confirmation bias. This is when a test appears to confirm something one is expecting or hoping for. It happens frequently, particularly with reports from third-party assessments, says Kirkpatrick. Almost all of those reports, for example, she says, will flag some gene entries for breast cancer, colon cancer, and dementia. “Everyone has variants in their reports for all of these hundreds of conditions, and if they have them in their family histories, they’re going to think these tests have identified the genetic reason, but it’s quite possible that the genetic reason in that family wasn’t even on the test.”

There’s a risk of discrimination. While the Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act of 2008 prevents employers and health insurers from discrimination based on DNA findings, that protection is not automatically provided when it comes to life and long-term disability insurance. The Genetic Non-Discrimination Act similarly protects Canadians.

The tests are not comprehensive. Perhaps the most significant limitation of most DTC tests is that they only look for certain variants within the genome — a method called genotyping. Kirkpatrick describes it as being “like playing a game of hopscotch down the DNA, where it looks at spots here and there but isn’t really complete.” It might pick out a variant that influences your risk for a condition, but there may be thousands of others it doesn’t look at. The more comprehensive approach used in tests given by healthcare providers is known as sequencing, which looks at longer stretches of DNA or even the entire genome. This difference may be of particular concern when it comes to certain conditions such as breast cancer. For example, some DTC tests look at only a few of the thousands of variants in the two breast cancer genes called BRCA1 and BRCA2, variants that tend to be found in people of Eastern European descent.

Finding these variants is important, because both women and men with one of these variants have a higher risk of developing certain cancers. The danger is that if these DNA tests do not reveal the presence of one of these other variants, consumers might think they’re in the clear and not only may pass on further genetic testing but also may slack off on routine breast and prostate care.

Even if a woman doesn’t have one of the variants flagged by these tests, it doesn’t mean she won’t get breast cancer. She still might have one of the many variants not tested for, variants that might put her at increased risk for breast and ovarian cancers. Furthermore, genes are not the only factors that influence whether she might develop the disease. 23andMe explains these pitfalls to consumers and encourages women — and in fact all customers — to consult with a genetic counselor before testing, discuss findings with their physicians, and consider further genetic testing.

“I’ve seen people falsely reassured when they really aren’t understanding that the raw data files are not looking at the entire BRCA1 gene, for example.” They don’t realize they could still have a genetic variation that’s not included in that raw file, Kirkpatrick explains. Furthermore, she says, the raw data analyzed is different from one company to another, and even individual companies have more than one version of their test, so the information that’s extracted for download and then uploaded can vary and have different markers.

Furthermore, tests don’t yet exist for all conditions that can be genetic in origin or for all genes pertaining to a particular disease.Because of these limitations, it’s wise for everyone taking DTC tests to discuss their findings with a certified genetic counselor — an expert with deep training in genetics and counseling — before dismissing, worrying about, or acting on results. And in cases in which a test indicates a risk for a disease, it’s necessary to validate those findings through medical-grade testing. You might be tempted to bring your results to your next medical appointment, but in many cases primary care physicians aren’t aware of all the tests and aren’t necessarily able or willing to evaluate them.

Kirkpatrick advises everyone who gets results from third-party sources to work with a genetic counselor who specializes in DTC genetics. “If you’ve found a particular variant you’re anxious about, we always recommend doing confirmation testing — repeating the test, but in a medical-grade laboratory setting.” About half the time, she says, the finding will not be confirmed.

It’s advice that even the leading DTC testing companies give. 23andMe, for example, advises all customers to seek such genetic counseling before taking an at-home DNA test and to follow up with medical-grade testing when findings indicate a risk. If costs are an issue, first talk with your doctor and your insurance company to see if you may be covered.

To find a genetic counselor, ask your physician or visit the National Society of Genetic Counselors, which has a directory of more than 3,300 practitioners.While DTC tests may give you some information about your health risks, they are less complete and in many cases less reliable than those you’d get from medical-grade tests chosen with the help of a genetic counselor. Unfortunately, many consumers aren’t aware there’s another type of DNA testing available to help assess their risks. Unlike most DTC DNA tests, medical-grade tests must be recommended or ordered by a healthcare provider and in many instances are covered by insurance. For individuals without a family medical history who suffer from mysterious symptoms or have developed health conditions, such medical-grade diagnostic tests can provide valuable information that will help physicians explore additional testing and target treatment methods.

For those who take medications for certain conditions, pharmacogenomic testing (PGx) examines genes that contribute to the way you will respond to a particular medication and whether you’re likely to have adverse reactions. This is helpful, for example, to guide dosages for people taking warfarin to reduce risk of stroke or to predict adverse effects in those taking statins to lower cholesterol.

Another type of testing, proactive screening, as the name suggests, looks for variants in genes known to be linked to diseases about which individuals can be proactive — those that can be influenced by behaviors or treated when detected early. This newer type of testing, which is largely not covered by medical insurance, is not yet widely used. “Most people don’t know how to navigate the system to access the testing, and the tests haven’t been around long enough for there to be widespread understanding of their value,” says Kirkpatrick.A potential game-changer in testing is a new program called My Gene Counsel, which, according to Kirkpatrick, is trying to help people access reliable genetic information and receive confirmation testing on a mass scale. According to the company’s website, its team of “genetic counselors, scientists, and patient advocates have created streams of information to answer the questions you and your doctor have about your genetic tests results and how to use them.” The company links your results to those streams of information and shares reports with you and your healthcare provider, updating you as new information emerges and recommendations change.

According to the company’s president and CEO, Ellen Matloff, the program “allows people who have had DTC testing and have a personal or family history of cancer to get information about their health results and do verification testing in a medical-grade laboratory, if needed.” It’s recently expanded, she adds, to include people who either have a personal and/or family history of cancer and have not had DTC testing, or who have no such history but who have had a cancer-related finding via DTC testing. The program includes genetic counseling by phone by a certified genetic counselor. This program is also innovative because as the science of genetic testing evolves and results shift, it will keep consumers up to date about what these changes mean to their health.

Another company, Invitae, says Kirkpatrick, is “helping push medical-grade testing into the DTC sphere. According to the company, “The new service allows consumers to initiate and order tests themselves, and then be paired with a trained, independent clinician who reviews health history and determines the medical appropriateness of their test. Once results are available, the service provides support on next steps, including genetic counseling as appropriate, and also makes it easy for consumers to share their results directly with their personal physician.” This approach is similar to MyHeritage’s decision to include healthcare providers in ordering and helping return results regarding medical information to customers, says Kirkpatrick.Genetic testing, when results are interpreted correctly, may be a boon to individuals who don’t know who their biological families are and who, thus, are in the dark about their health risks. However, it gives only a partial picture of the risks. Melanoma, Kirkpatrick explains, is an example of a condition for which family medical history is as important, if not more important, than the genetic testing. There are several types of melanoma, she explains, some of which run more strongly in families than others, but testing hasn’t yet been developed for all cases of familial melanoma. “So if you have a family history of melanoma, it’s important to know that so you can have annual skin checks and pay more attention to any concerning skin findings, not putting it off if something develops.”

Family medical history matters, and Kirkpatrick encourages everyone to take all steps possible to learn about it. Adoptees, for example, can attempt to gain non-identifying information from the agencies or states responsible for their adoptions. And those who were adopted in the minority of states that allow access to original birth certificates can use the information those certificates contain to try to track down their biological parents. Donor conceived individuals who don’t have access to family medical history and NPEs (non-parental events or not parent expected) who also lack information may have no means other than DNA testing for searching for their biological families. Kirkpatrick offers step-by-step strategies for using DNA to find family along with a thorough discussion of medical DNA testing in her new book, “The DNA Guide for Adoptees: How to Use Genealogy and Genetics to Uncover Your Roots, Connect With Your Biological Family, and Better Understand Your Medical History.” The tips she and coauthor Shannon Combs-Bennett offer, although targeted to adoptees, will be useful as well to help donor conceived individuals and other NPEs find family.

Maybe you took a DNA test for fun and the results turned out to be anything but. You don’t recognize anyone in your match list or you find in your mailbox a “Hi, we’re siblings!” message when you thought you were an only child. Or perhaps someone let slip a family secret and now you suspect that you have no genetic connection to one or both of your parents. What should you do now? The simplest and yet most difficult way to regain your equilibrium after being blown away is to hit the pause button.It may feel as if your world has gone sideways. It wouldn’t be surprising if you can’t think straight and your mind is reeling; after all, this may be the most life-changing experience you’ll ever know. You may want to try to right your world immediately, but a better strategy is to acknowledge that you’ve had a significant shock and let it settle in a little before reacting. The initial revelation of family secrets may just be the first wave in a storm of shocks and struggles, so the way you respond early on may ease your way throughout your journey. Later you can think about your goals and explore how to move forward, but for now, take it slowly. (See the First Steps Guide from Right to Know below.)

Renowned neurologist and psychologist Viktor Frankl often is credited for a wise statement likely first made before he was born: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” Take time to be still in that space. “It’s definitely a good idea to stop and take a breath,” says psychologist Greg Markway. “Part of your ‘story’ changes the moment you get this new information, but you don’t have any of the background information about the story.” Feeling a range of emotions, he says — upset, lost, angry — is normal. “Let yourself feel and accept the feelings.” Give yourself time, he advises, to explore the rest of your story and learn what the new information means.

“Don’t make any life-changing decisions,” advises Krista Driver, PhD, a licensed marriage and family therapist who’s also an NPE (non-parental event or not parent expected). “Don’t sell your home, divorce your mother, quit your job, or make any major changes.” In addition, she says, “Be selective in the people you tell; not everyone is worthy of your story.”If you haven’t already taken a DNA test, take one now to confirm any suspicions you may have. Use the strategy outlined here.Establishing equilibrium after a shock — whether that’s done by searching for biological family, reestablishing peaceful connections with your social family, or resolving that you may never have the answers you seek — is a marathon, not a sprint. It will take energy, stamina, and focus at the same time that it tries to drain you of all three.

It’s well known that in the wake of a shock, the body and mind can take a hit, so make a commitment to guarding your well-being by eating properly, getting enough sleep, and maintaining an exercise routine. And take steps to manage stress and anxiety. Devote some time to whatever you find relaxing — maybe listening to music, spending time in nature, reading, or visiting a museum. One of the best ways to defuse stress, however, is to practice mindfulness-based meditation.

“Mindfulness,” says Markway, “is the process where you focus your attention on the current moment. You also attend to your current thoughts and feelings — just noticing them — without trying to judge or change them.” Load your phone with any one of a number of mindfulness-based meditation apps such as Calm, Omvana, Headspace, or Insight Timer and pause for five or ten minutes twice a day and whenever you’re feeling anxious to slow your mind and still your thoughts. Taking care of yourself,” adds Markway, “helps you think more clearly.”

Another aspect of self-care is pausing for self-reflection. Driver suggests keeping a journal. “This may come in handy when you’re trying to piece it all together later. As people move through this process of discovery, memories will float back that provide confirmations, or they may recall conversations from childhood, and this medium documents the range of emotions that will come up during the journey.”You may feel powerless and alone. You are neither. Information and resources are empowering, and you’ll find those here in the magazine and in numerous references listed in our Resource sections. But before you explore them, make an effort to connect with others who’ve been where you are now. Your friends and family members, unless they’ve had a similar experience, may not be able to understand or relate to the feelings you’re having. Find a community of people who’ve also experienced this kind of shock,” says Driver, who recommends an online support group, or, if you’re lucky enough to live near one, an in-person group. “This helps people know they aren’t alone and provides a safe place to explore potential avenues to take.”

In addition, there are dozens of Facebook groups that may provide comfort. While not true support groups since they’re not moderated by trained professionals, these private groups offer comfort, peer support, and shared resources. Severance has its own group, Adoptees, NPEs, Donor Conceived & Other Genetic Identity Seekers, and there are many more devoted exclusively to adoptees, donor conceived people, NPEs, or late discovery adoptees. (See our Resources pages.)

As you seek support in these ways, ensure that you don’t lose touch with your real-world support group, take time to spend with friends, and engage in whatever activities you found enjoyable or rewarding before you made this life-changing discovery.All individuals perceive and react to trauma differently. There’s no right or wrong way. Almost everyone will feel knocked off balance by finding out that a branch of their family tree has fallen. Some manage to take it in stride, and others will feel overwhelmed, devastated. It’s not unusual in the immediate aftermath of a such a discovery to feel angry, sad, moody, and distracted. You might have difficulty concentrating or sleeping. These feelings are normal and likely will subside as you absorb the shock. But if they linger, cause you to engage in risky or troublesome behaviors, or interfere with your daily activities, consider seeking the help of a therapist, preferably one trained in issues related to family separation.BEFORE YOU GO…

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In 2014, I decided to do a 23andMe test to learn about my father’s family and feel closer to him. I had lost him to a heart attack in 1996, and his family had not been warm with me since his death. When the results came back, they showed none of the Russian and German heritage I expected from his family, but instead indicated I was 50% Scottish.Yes, this was not the first NPE revelation I had. To start, when I was born, my mother was married to her second husband. They were very unhappily married and she began a series of affairs. Because of her marriage and very Catholic parents, she created the ruse that I was the product of the marriage, so his name is on my birth certificate. I had weekly Saturday visits with him for 11 years, until mom disclosed he wasn’t my father and that my step-father since I was 2 years old was really my biological father. About 12 or 13 years ago, a DNA test proved my birth certificate father was not biological, and my step-father adopted me. I changed my name to Klugman and lived very happily with my step-father as my father all that time until his sudden death from a heart attack. I had never felt like I fit into my father’s side of the family: I shared no physical resemblance or mannerisms. I’d always felt like an outsider that they put up with. So in essence I was primed to deal with this issue already because of my early life story.Even though I had something similar in the past, I was still shocked. I had completely identified with my dad (step-dad), even though his family was clearly not having it. In film, there’s a shot in which the foreground and background move simultaneously, but the center image remains fixed, creating an illusion of surreality. That’s what I felt immediately and in spurts for months afterward — like aftershocks.I think my training did help. I specialize in trauma, so I was immediately aware of the effects of trauma on my functioning, and I got back into therapy with Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). I knew I was experiencing grief and had some compassion for myself.No. It was completely foreign until I hired a genealogist, Christina Bryan Fitzgibbons. Once she explained it, I learned this was a thing after all.I freaked out for a few months, but in the back of my mind I knew I needed answers. I asked my dad’s sister to test, assuming it would come back with no match, and I was right. Originally I had assumed it was the birth certificate father since he was of British ancestry, so I hired the genealogist only to confirm that. She knew immediately without doing any research that was wrong and found the real bio dad within two months.In hindsight I did, although I had no idea what that was until learning about NPEs. The crux of my professional focus in the NPE area has been the effect of surprise DNA revelations to identity. It’s a foundational issue that’s necessary to have us feel affiliation and value with our groups, tribes, communities.No. It was an easy choice for me, more like a compulsion. When I made the decision to go forward, it couldn’t happen fast enough.I turned to her right away because I did not believe I understood how to go about the search. Some people find everything themselves, but I don’t think it would have been that easy for me. I didn’t understand about centimorgans or how to triangulate relationships in family trees when they were distant. Christina knows all the intricacies and was able to find my biological dad based on his second cousin’s tree posted on Ancestry.com. That was not something I would have put together.Impatience, wonder, fear of rejection, anger.Once I had the initial meeting with my bio-dad, I was in the most indescribable turmoil that I can’t explain. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and I wanted to kill my mother (figuratively), but within a day or two, all the pain I had felt from my dad’s family not accepting me was fitting into place and sort of melted away. I had answers to lifelong issues that then made sense and I didn’t have to struggle with the pain of not knowing anymore. There was a sort of relief that allowed me to move on.Immediately upon identifying my bio dad, my husband challenged me to do something about this professionally. As a therapist, I’m very comfortable listening behind the scenes. I would never have put this out so publicly, but innately I knew I had to in order to heal. I was 100% correct.Because I’m an EMDR expert and have training in grief, I used those two pieces to formulate the bones of it. I’ve been doing research ever since, really focusing on identity. I’m developing a certificate curriculum to train clinicians for continuing education units (CEUs) on how to work with the NPE population since it’s a specialty approach.Identity is big, followed closely by connection in the form of support, acceptance, or lack thereof, namely rejection. Because of the nature of our conceptions, others (namely the mothers) feel they have ownership of the story and can control the dissemination of the information. Being seen and understood is a basic component of therapy and being a human being.Absolutely! In my blog I write about the seven key characteristics of NPEs I’ve discovered from collecting stories from clients, my podcast interviews, my own story, and those on the secret Facebook group for NPEs I’m part of. They include feeling a stranger within the family, discovery, grief, identity confusion, intuitive knowing, managing family relationships, and being in reunion with new family. Not every NPE experiences each characteristic in the same way, but there are unmistakable commonalities that thread them together.They’re almost the same, just the paths to get there veer off slightly. Usually adoptees discover their stories “when they’re old enough,” and NPE stories are often taken to the grave. There’s no right time to tell your child you’ve been lying to them about who their parent is. However, adoptive parents usually understand from the beginning they will have to tell their child their origin story at some point and just wait for that point to present itself. NPE mothers typically have no intention of ever telling, and until the advent of commercial DNA tests, there was no risk of people learning the truth.I don’t think they are that different. If you take Dani Shapiro’s latest book, “Inheritance,” she describes my story, but with one less father. She had no idea, like I had no idea. There are several ways to be an NPE — donor conceived, adoptions, surrogates, and others all technically are NPEs. The major difference besides their conception is in how the individuals find out.I offer a podcast, Sex, Lies & The Truth, for NPEs and their families to feel connected to a larger community and learn about aspects they felt alone with but can now relate to others, learning about themselves as they go. Same with my Finding Family blog on “Psychology Today,” where I write about the unique aspects of being an NPE, what I now call Parental Identity Discovery.™ I coined the term to be more inclusive of mothers who are unknown parents from adoptions, surrogates, etc. and will now use the term to title my certificate curriculum. I am a licensed marriage and family therapist and licensed professional counselor in California and see NPEs in person in my private practice or via tele-therapy throughout the state. I also offer virtual coaching for those living outside California, including a virtual support group for NPEs.

When it comes to DNA tests for finding family or confirming suspected relationships, the choices can be bewildering. As direct-to-consumer DNA testing has exploded in popularity, more companies are marketing tests, and each company offers different features. Those features can be very important once your results are in, but preferences about them shouldn’t form the basis of your initial choice of test. Your first objective should be to get your DNA in as many databases as possible to increase your likelihood of success.

There are three steps to getting started. Know what kind of test to take, choose which test to take first, and then make the most of the results.There are three types of DNA tests used for genealogical purposes. Autosomal DNA tests look at the DNA we inherit from each of our parents, which is recombined from generation to generation. A number of companies offer autosomal DNA testing, but for purposes of finding family, you need only pay attention to the big four: AncestryDNA, 23andMe, FamilyTreeDNA (FDTNA), and MyHeritage. (If among your testing goals is learning more information about your health risks, only two of these companies’ autosomal tests provide information about health traits: 23andMe and, a newcomer as of this May, MyHeritage.

Autosomal DNA testing offers you a breakdown of your ethnic heritage, but more important, it provides you with matches to DNA relatives — the pieces you’ll need to put together the puzzle of your origins. If you’re lucky, when your results come in you’ll find at the top of your match list the parent or sibling for whom you’re searching. Once uncommon, it happens more and more as the databases grow. But it’s not the most likely scenario, so don’t be disheartened if you don’t immediately find a close family match. You can still learn to explore relationships among your closest matches, which will also yield pieces to the puzzle. (Look for more on that in future articles.)

There are two additional types of DNA tests for genealogical purposes, available only from FTDNA, both of which trace a direct line of your ancestry. Mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) traces the direct female line (from mother to mother to mother) and Y-DNA traces the father’s direct line. While mitochondrial testing is of little use to individuals trying to find close biological relatives, Y-DNA testing may have value. Because the Y chromosome is handed down intact and essentially unaltered from father to son generation after generation, and since men generally keep their father’s surnames, Y-DNA testing may help men discover their family names, which, when combined with genealogical research, may yield important clues. There are various levels of Y-DNA tests, each analyzing a different number of genetic markers, ranging from 37 to 700. Learn more about this here.You may be tempted to choose one test and call it a day. But it’s an approach that won’t help you if the person you’re looking for has tested at a different company. Consider these scenarios: You’re looking for your biological father. You test at AncestryDNA but get no parent match because he’s tested at 23andMe. Or your bio-dad hasn’t tested and you’ll need to rely on cousin matches to figure out his identity. One close cousin on your bio-dad’s paternal side has tested at MyHeritage, and another at FTDNA. You’ve tested at Ancestry, so you don’t know about either of those close cousins who could hold the key to the identity of your parent. It’s like waiting on the corner to meet someone only to find they’re on another corner.

One solution, if money isn’t an object and you’re very impatient for the broadest possible results, is to test immediately at all four of the leading companies. But for most people, there’s a better way to achieve the same results over an only slightly longer period of time. Most experts agree that all journeys begin with an AncestryDNA test, because with more than 15 million testers in Ancestry’s database, you’re casting the widest net in the biggest pool of testers. Your DNA will be tested against that of far more individuals than with any other test.

Purchase an AncestryDNA test and sign up at the same time for a free account that will allow you to begin to build trees. Later, in order to make the most of your matches’ trees, you’ll need to purchase a basic subscription to the service or use it at a local library. AncestryDNA tests go on sale frequently, typically before holidays, so if Thanksgiving, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, or St. Patrick’s Day isn’t far off, you can save a bit by waiting.You might be tempted to sit back and wait the six to eight weeks it takes for the results to roll in, but don’t. The wait can seem interminable, and being proactive will help keep you from chewing your nails and wondering if you’ll find what you’re looking for. Instead, roll up your sleeves and start to learn about how to make the most of your results once they’re available. Contrary to what DNA test commercials would have you believe, the test doesn’t do all the work. Unless you were blessed with a science brain, understanding DNA will be like learning a new language or taking up a musical instrument.

As mentioned previously, if close matches don’t appear right way, newcomers may become discouraged and think all they can do is wait and watch. But with some knowledge and, perhaps, sweat and tears, there’s a great deal that can be learned from second, third, and even fourth cousin matches. You’ll need to explore relationships among matches, often with no direct input from them. You’ll also need to create family trees based on those relationships, building and building the trees until patterns and connections emerge. Finding family can take time, and there’s definitely a learning curve, but the more knowledge you acquire about both DNA and genealogy while you’re waiting and afterward, the more successful your search is likely to be.

Ancestry Academy offers a collection of free tutorials, and you can search YouTube for helpful videos. Search in particular for videos by Ancestry’s Crista Cowan, known as the Barefoot Genealogist. Look for articles, blogs, books, and other tools that will help you get up to speed in our Resources section.

If you were adopted, other steps you can take while waiting include signing up at adoption reunion registries. Start with the International Soundex Reunion Registry and search online for state registries. And visit DNA Adoption, which has excellent resources and offers online classes about how to use DNA in a search.

In addition, if you do not live in one of the states that permit partial or full access to your adoption records (see a list here), you can contact your state or the agency that handled your adoption to request your non-identifying information.

In most cases you won’t have any information about the family you’re hoping to find, but if you do, begin creating a tree on Ancestry.com. And join the DNA Detectives Facebook group, which offers a wealth of information and support. You’ll learn from members who share their knowledge as well as from search assistants who can offer more advanced guidance and help. Another group, Search Squad, can help with search matters unrelated to DNA, and there are numerous other groups that can boost you farther up the learning curve, including DNA Newbie, DNA for the Donor Conceived, and more. In these groups you can ask questions and gain support as you see how others manage the stress of the search. When you join, be sure to look for posted files that often have valuable information.So that you don’t have to shell out cold cash to all the testing companies in order to find DNA matches in all possible pools, you can upload your Ancestry results (your raw DNA) for free to MyHeritage, FamilyTreeDNA, and Gedmatch Genesis — a database where individuals can compare results with those of others who’ve tested at various companies. Follow these five steps.

1. Download your raw DNA file from AncestryDNA using these instructions. Scroll down to “Requesting Your DNA Data.”
2. Transfer your raw DNA to Gedmatch Genesis. Register and then login. Be sure to read carefully the information about opting in or out of making your information available to law enforcement and consider researching the controversial issue carefully before you decide. Here’s how to upload your DNA.
3. Transfer your raw data to MyHeritage. The company offers a free transfer that allows you to receive all DNA matches and contact them, use the chromosome browser, and receive an ethnicity report, but you’ll need to pay a fee of $29 for additional features, such as the ability to view trees and share matches’ DNA. That fee is waived for MyHeritage subscribers.
4. Transfer your raw DNA to FamilyTreeDNA. You’ll receive free access to your DNA matches and the Family Finder Matrix, which allows you to compare relationships among 10 selected matches in a grid matrix. For an additional $19, you’ll get access to all features, including the chromosome browsers and ethnicity reports.
5. If the above steps haven’t yielded the information you seek, if you want to cover all bases, or if you also want access to information about health risks, test at 23andMe.

More than likely you’ve already experienced a shock of some sort, you suspect that a family relationship isn’t what you believed it to be, or you wish to confirm an unexpected relationship. But everyone considering taking a DNA test should be aware that test results can be a minefield of surprises — even beyond those you may already suspect. Consider carefully why you’re testing, what you hope to gain, and balance that against the risk of upset any further surprising information might bring, and try to have support in place should you receive troubling results.

Many consumers have questions about the privacy of genetic material they submit. Some are concerned as well about the growing practice of using DNA to help in criminal investigations. Carefully read each testing site’s terms of service before testing. If you have any lingering concerns, contact the company before sending in your sample. To learn more about best practices and guidelines when testing, visit Genetic Genealogy Standards.Look for more articles here soon on what else you can do when your test results come in, techniques for making the most of those results, and about professionals who may be able to help.