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…

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

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By Richard Wenzel“My mother believed in me, and because of that, I believe in myself. And I really can’t think of a greater gift that a parent can give their child.” Those words ended my eulogy, so I stepped down from the podium and solemnly returned to my seat. Later, as I mingled among the crowd, quite a few people praised my remarks. While kind words are standard at funerals, their comments seemed heartfelt and genuine. I thanked them, adding that praising my mother came easy because of my strong, life-long bond with her, a bond that would be her legacy forever.

“Forever” lasted 16 years, ending the day my mother reached up from the grave and wrought emotional ruin on the living, particularly me.

I distinctly remember being 11-years-old when my dad heartlessly embarrassed me at a school event. Being at odds with my father was commonplace during my childhood and peaked during my teenage and college years, after which I largely eliminated him from my life. As a child, I recognized fundamental differences between myself and my dad. I looked nothing like him. He was athletic, I was not. I excelled academically, whereas he had struggled as a student. The list goes on. When I returned home after the embarrassing school event with tears in my eyes, I bluntly howled at my mom, “How is he my dad when I’m nothing like him and he’s nothing like me?” “He’s your dad, just try to forgive him,” she replied. Over the next quarter century, I asked her some version of that question on dozens of occasions, sometimes in a calm voice, sometimes in harsh tones through gritted teeth. She always responded with some version of that same answer. For some reason I just accepted her words rather than taking my question toward a logical conclusion, probably because I never realized that trusting your mother was fraught with risk.

Today, I know her answers were lies. Presumably well-intentioned, but calculated deception nevertheless. I cannot condone dishonesty, but I might forgive her for lying to me when I was an impressionable 11-year-old. But she lied to me when I was in my 20s, past the age when I needed her protection. And she lied when I was in my 30s, when I had attained a level of stability, independence, and success that her life never had. I will not forgive those transgressions. Where is the inflection point between my mother’s lying being a misguided protection of her child (and herself) from embarrassment and her lying being a selfish, unkind act of cowardice toward her adult son? Frankly, I believe that upon my 18^th birthday my mother should have been criminally charged for having knowingly falsified a legal document—my birth certificate. Imagine a world where parents and their enablers face legal consequences for their DNA identity deceptions! Unknowingly, I’ve been her criminal accomplice; over the years information I wrote on critical documents such as family medical history questionnaires or life insurance applications was fiction, even though I believed it to be true at the time.

I was not my mother’s only secret. When I was 8-years-old and already had two younger siblings, she gave birth again, immediately placed the child for adoption, and then spent the remainder of her life pretending that event never occurred. Other adults—my dad, aunts, uncles, and family friends—kept silent as well. I stayed silent too, as I’d been conditioned to do. To this day, I regret my blind obedience and lack of inquiry, as I will never know why my mother chose different fates for me and my sibling. Attempting to rectify this error, about a year ago I submitted my DNA test.  The results did not reveal my sibling, but I will keep searching. The results did, however, provide an unexpected-yet-not-entirely-surprising discovery—confirmation that my dad is not my biological father. A few months later, I discovered my biological father’s identity. Unfortunately, he, too, died years ago.

Great, just great.

Like any rational person uncovering the lies of their existence, I have many questions for my biological parents, the two people ‘at the scene of the crime,’ so to speak. I wish to ask my mother:

What happened? 

How and when did you two meet? 

Did my biological father know a baby resulted? 

Why did you falsely tell my dad that I was his child? And maintain this charade for decades? 

Why did you never tell me the truth, even though you repeatedly told me how proud you were of me and how mature, responsible, and successful I was?

Actually, my conception may have been a crime: circumstantial evidence suggests that my mother was sexually assaulted. Since the alleged perpetrator and his victim now reside in the afterlife, I’m left to ponder whether I am the product of a rape. How can I remain angry at my mom’s dishonesty and offer her compassion for her trauma? Try falling asleep while such questions bounce through your head. I have no choice but to do so.

My mother had 35 years to find the fortitude to share the truth, a difficult truth, to be sure. Yet she never offered her important words, not even a deathbed confession. For her sake, I wish she would have spoken up; among other harms, she denied herself the catharsis she might have found in honest expression.

Being an NPE sucks! Being among the NPEs whose biological parents are dead at the time of discovery sucks even more! I have empathy for and jealousy toward other NPEs who complain about their arguments with their parents (or in some instances, parent). I yearn to have an argument with my mother, but that opportunity is literally buried underground. I would be grateful to simply meet my biological father, just once, let alone hear his version of this story. But he now exists only in someone else’s memory.

My mom was a strong, intelligent woman I admired. How do I reconcile my memory of her with the truth I now possess? How do I mourn, why should I mourn, can I mourn for my biological father, a man I never knew? My mother’s dishonesty denied me the right to know the authenticity of my existence and so much more.

Sorry Richard, your mom’s dead, your dad too, and they took all the answers with them. So, toughen up and just move on. 

I am trying. What choice do I have?Richard Wenzel grew-up in Illinois, working hard and joyfully playing on his family’s farm with siblings and friends. A health care professional by training, he’s turned his healing skills inward since learning his true DNA heritage. To help raise awareness about NPEs, he writes and speaks whenever opportunities arise and was recently a contributor to the podcast NPE Stories. You can contact him at lone.tree.road.npe@gmail.com.BEFORE YOU GO…

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

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By Lana BrammannI recently visited Earth Sanctuary—a perfect place to reconnect with my soul and nature. There I found peaceful ponds, sacred stone circles, a labyrinth, Tibetan prayer and Native American medicine wheels—all nestled in a protected forest.  Perhaps, I thought, it would also be the perfect place to connect with my recently discovered BioDad, Michael,  who passed in 2017. After my NPE (not parent expected) discovery and after having found his family, I understood my gravitation toward all things Native American. Visiting this land, with its sacred Native spaces, had me hopeful and happy for a soulful adventure.

Leaves crunched beneath my feet on the winding path. Deep breaths and deliberate steps… inhale… crunch, crunch, crunch … Exhale… crunch, crunch, crunch. Wearing low-tread sneakers instead of hiking boots was an intentional choice that forced a more mindful gait on the muddy, slightly hilly trail. At each activity location I said a prayer, left an offering, and felt lighter. The Native American prayer place surprised me. It felt familiar, though I’d never been to or seen one. Intuitively, I peeled off my sneakers and socks, then stepped barefoot on the flat rock at the pond’s edge. With hands outstretched and palms up, I closed my eyes and thought of Michael. In my mind’s eye, I had a strong vision of the man whose genes created me. His face was clear from photographs shared by his family. The stories they’d generously shared of his struggles and joy created both peace and sorrow. One deep breath and a tear ran down my cheek. Two breaths, another tear.

I told him how sorry I was that he’d passed before I found him. I explained that for a year and a half I’d begged my mother for information; yet she insisted he was not my father. I asked Michael if he knew I was his child during those two times, 47 years ago, when he came out of his home in an attempt to speak with my mother and peered around her at me. I thanked him for helping me find my new house (it was nothing short of a miracle) and for watching over me, especially as I navigated this traumatic discovery. I purged silent tears and years of sorrow for Michael, the father who created me, and for Skip, the assumed father forced into a teenage marriage then also withheld from me after his divorce from my mother. Tears fell for my mother’s family, who turned their backs, and for both fathers’ families, who have recently enveloped me in love and warmth. Tears fell for puzzle pieces that finally fit together.

As if to indicate I’d overstayed my welcome, a squirrel eventually emerged from the bushes a couple feet from my toes and watched for a few moments before scampering behind me to the place where offerings were left. It’s as if the squirrel was saying, “Okay, that’s enough… go on your way.” I left an offering of sage and thanked Michael and the squirrel before putting on my socks and shoes and continuing along the path.

I took solace in the realization that Michael is in the rustle of wind in the trees, the solitary call of the owl every night at dusk, and the shimmer of the lake. He’s in the notes from my cello, flute, and mountain dulcimer. He’s in the activities that bring me comfort and joy, which seem so foreign to the rest of my assumed family.

His relatives have shared that he was flawed and far from perfect, but a very kind and loving human. He loved nature, was musical, and his soul ran deep with his Native American heritage. He and my mother couldn’t have been more opposite. With this knowledge, certain memories with her take on a different significance. It makes me giggle to recall the time I dragged her on a surprise adventure through two inches of mud for hours of mushroom hunting. What makes the recollection so sweet now is knowing he would have relished the spectacle with impish joy, as my very urban, very perception-conscious mother had no option but to indulge me by investigating fungus in the mud.

Although I didn’t know then I was an NPE, when I was a child I was confused by interests and perspectives different from those of the family in which I was raised. I was kept from Michael, and, ultimately, from Skip, the man assigned the role of father. I’m grateful to Skip for stepping in as a father when he had no obligation to do so, and to Michael’s family for sharing stories, photographs, and accepting me as if I’d been part of their world all along. I just wish I’d met him myself. For a child who had no fathers, who would have thought I’d be blessed as an adult to have had two?Lana Brammann grew up in Orange County, California, where she never quite fit in. She now thrives in caffeinated bliss with the natural abundance of Whidbey Island, Washington. She provides love and sanctuary to unwanted tortoises, retired racing greyhounds, and parrots. The parrots, like Brammann, sometimes say things they shouldn’t. She’s a member of the International Society of Genetic Genealogists. Look for her on Facebook.BEFORE YOU GO…

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Don’ t miss the latest in a series of webinars from Right to Know (RTK), a nonprofit organization that advocates for the rights of MPEs (misattributed parentage experiences)—including adoptees and those conceived through assisted reproduction—and NPEs (not parent expected).

On Sunday, October 18, from 4pm-5:30pm EST, the webinar will address mental health issues experienced by MPEs. Moderated by DrPh candidate Sebastiana Gianci, the panel will include Jodi Klugman-Rabb, LMFT, therapist, cohost of the podcast Sex, Lies & The Truth, and creator of the innovative training program Parental Identity Discovery; Cotey Bowman, LPC associate, creator of the NPE Counseling Collective; and Lynne Weiner Spencer, RN, MA, LP, a therapist specializing in donor conception, adoption, and the experiences of NPEs and MPEs.

Among the topics to be explored are trauma, identity, grief, ambiguous loss, anxiety, and rejection.

In November, the series’ presenter will be Libby Copeland, award-winning author of The Lost Family: How DNA Testing is Upending Who We Are. (Look for our Q & A with the author here.)

And in December, RTK’s webinar features the DNA Geek Leah Larkin, an adoptee and genetic genealogist. If you’d like to attend the upcoming webinar, request the Zoom link at RSVP2RightToKnow.us and check out RTK’s event page to stay in the loop about upcoming presentations.

If you missed the last webinar, “Understanding the Medical Ramifications in Your DNA Test,” you can watch the recording.

Right to Know, created by Kara Rubinstein Deyerin, Gregory Loy, and Alesia Cohen Weiss, aims to educate the public and professionals about “the complex intersection of genetic information, identity, and family dynamics.” It works, as well, to change laws with respect to related issues, including fertility fraud. Find it on Facebook and on Twitter and Instagram @righttoknowus.BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page for more articles about NPEs, adoptees, and genetic genealogy. And check out our articles on the topics that will be discussed in RTK’s webinar: disenfranchised grief, stages of grief, ambiguous loss, rejection, and trauma.

• 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.
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• Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag.

It was a movement waiting to happen. It only needed a catalyst. Enter Dr. Laura Schlessinger, an unapologetic bully and “infotainment” therapist masquerading as a helping professional. Host of the Dr. Laura program, heard daily on SiriusXM Radio, Schlessinger bills herself as a “talk radio and podcast host offering no-nonsense advice infused with a strong sense of ethics, accountability and personal responsibility.” A Los Angeles marriage and family therapist, she’s no stranger to controversy. For example, there was criticism when it became known that in the early days of her television program her staff posed as guests, and outrage when two decades ago she declared that homosexuality was “a biological error” and made racist comments that temporarily derailed her radio career. Now, her SiriusXM program, with an audience of eight million listeners, doesn’t shy away from the sensationalism that ratchets up the ratings.

Recently, she directed her venom at NPEs (not parent expected.)

In the program’s July 7 Call of the Day, “My Mom Never Told Me the Truth,” Torri, the caller seeking Dr. Laura’s help, stated she wasn’t sure how to continue on in her relationship with her mother after recently learning her dad wasn’t her biological father. Schlessinger asked if the man who raised her was nice. After Torri responded that he was, Schlessinger launched into an assumption-filled toxic diatribe. She berated Torri, asking “What in the hell is wrong with you?” When Torri tried to explain she was upset by her mother’s lying, Schlessinger responded by saying, “So what? So what? Who gives a shit?” She continued to defend Torri’s mother while dismissing and disparaging the vulnerable caller, leaving Torri barely able to speak. “I seriously would rather smack you across the head than anything else right now, you ungrateful little twit. You insensitive, ungrateful twit.” When Torri, after a stunned silence, tried to respond, Schlessinger interrupted. “You’re a twit for saying that. You’re a twit for repeating it.” She continued for several excruciating minutes to bully and berate her caller.

Word of the episode spread quickly among adoptees, donor-conceived people, NPEs, and others affected by separation from biological family. As more and more people listened to the podcast, outrage surged from one Facebook group to another like jolts of electricity. Soon, members responded to Schlessinger on her website and on social media, many demanding an apology, some clamoring for a boycott of her program, and others calling for the radio host to be stripped of her license to practice psychotherapy. The complaints appeared to fall on deaf ears as the complainers were quickly blocked from Schlessinger’s social media accounts. A post on her Facebook page overrun with comments about the episode, however, was quickly shut down.

Therapists soon weighed in as well. Jodi Klugman-Rabb, LMFT, wrote an article about Schlessinger’s breach of provider ethics, and Eve Sturges, LMFT and host of a podcast, “Everything’s Relative,” released an “emergency” episode to bring awareness to the issue.

I grew angrier by the day, says DNAngels’ search angel Ashley Frazier, “and on July 1, I put out a call in all the groups I’m in that it was time to speak up and let our voices be heard. Torri’s call was a rallying cry for members of our communities, who are often faced with rejection and the judgment of people in their lives who share the views of Dr. Laura, simply for wanting to know the truth about their genetic identity.”

When a friend shared with her a link to the show, Erin Cosentino, of the Facebook group NPE Only: After the Discovery, couldn’t bring herself to listen at first. “It took me a few hours to work up the courage,” she says. Reading the comments first inspired her to move ahead. “So many people were in support of Dr. Laura’s comments, and I was sickened by that, so I listened.” She and her friends spent days discussing the podcast and debating about what to do and how to educate the people who supported Dr. Laura. Then she saw the post written by Ashley Frazier. “It was so in line with everything my friends and I had been discussing that I asked permission to share it. I was meant to see it. It was meant to be. Within minutes we were planning.”

“We spent the evening messaging about strategy,” says Frazier. “Our plans quickly evolved into the two of us starting a group together, and by morning we had a group chat with more than 30 people discussing bigger plans than we could ever have imagined. Within 24 hours, we had our own private group formed with nearly 100 members brainstorming and offering to help achieve our mission.”

What they created that evening is the Coalition for Genetic Truth, which has united 27 NPE, adoptee, late discovery adoptee (LDA), search angel, and donor/surrogacy conceived support groups with combined memberships totaling more than 105,000 people.

The coalition now has both a public and a private group on Facebook whose 400 members include individuals from the various communities as well as their allies. Frazier and Cosentino quickly assembled a team of friends and fellow advocates to moderate the groups and represent all of the various communities with a stake in issues related to genetic identity—Laura Leslie, Emily Ripper, Kayla Branch, Annie Persico, Cindy Olson McQuay, Cassandra Adams, and Kathleen Shea Kirstein.

“The initial goal of the coalition was to raise our voices to speak out against Schlessinger’s abusive treatment of Torri,” says Frazier. “But we very quickly realized there were more effective ways to spread our mission in a positive manner,” adds Cosentino.

At first they focused on sending email messages, making phone calls, issuing a press release, and creating a petition that’s now been signed by more than 1,300 people calling for an apology from Schlessinger. “Realistically, we know we’re not going to get an apology. This step was simply a springboard to get to our greater mission, which is to be a united voice that gets the community and the public talking and recognizing that there’s a need for education about the importance of knowing one’s genetic identity,” she adds. It’s important, she says, for the burgeoning population of identity-disenfranchised people to be able to find their way to these communities “and know that there are tens of thousands of people in our support groups who can truly understand what they’re going through, give advice based on experience, and support them without judgment. As hard as our friends and families try to be supportive, they can’t put themselves in our shoes and often make hurtful and dismissive comments, such as ‘This doesn’t change anything,’ or ‘Your dad’s still your dad.”

Equally important as connecting community members to resources, says Frazier, “is to educate our known and newfound family members and friends about how they can better support us during this difficult time. There’s also a huge need to educate mental health professionals about this important issue and enable them to provide resources to their clients.”

Join the public or private Facebook group and follow the coalition on Twitter @GeneticTruth and on Instagram at #coalitionforgenetictruth.Among the members of the Coalition for Genetic Truth are the following.*

ADVOCACY

Right To Know On Twitter and Instagram @righttoknowus and on Facebook 

COUNSELING/THERAPY

Eve Sturges, LMFT: a licensed marriage and family therapist in Los Angeles. On Twitter and Instagram: @evesturges

NPE Counseling Collective: group of therapists specializing in best therapeutic practices for the NPE community.

Jodi Klugman-Rabb, LMFT: a licensed marriage and family therapist and creator of Parental Identity Discovery (see NPE Counseling Training below). On Twitter @JodiRabb, Instagram @jkrabbmft, and Facebook

FACEBOOK GROUPS

Note: Not all groups are open to everyone. Check the “About” section of each group for restrictions and to determine whether you are eligible to become a member.

Adoptees, NPEs, Donor Conceived & Other Genetic Identity Seekers

Adoptees Only: Found/Reunion The Next Chapter On Instagram @adopteesonly

Adoption Search & Support by DNAngels — Adoptee/LDA

DNAngels Search & Support — NPE/DC

DNA Surprises

Donor Conceived People

Donor Conceived People in/Around NY

Friends of Donor Conceived Individuals

Hiraeth Only: Longing for Home

The Mindful NPE On Twitter and Instagram @TheMindfulNPE

MPE Cross Cultural Connections

MPE Jewish Identity Surprise

NPE Counseling Collective

NPE Only: After the Discovery On Twitter @NPEsOnly1

Pacific NW MPE Life

GENETIC GENEALOGISTS/SEARCH ANGELS

DNAngels On Twitter @DNAngels4 and Instagram @DNAngelsorg

Enlighten DNA: Email: Truth@enlightenDNA.org

MEDIA

Severance Magazine On Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag and Facebook

NPE COUNSELING TRAINING

Parental Identity Discovery

PODCASTS

NPE Stories, hosted by Lily Wood

Everything’s Relative with Eve Sturges

Sex, Lies & the Truth, hosted by Jodi Klugman-Rabb and Christina Bryan Fitzgibbons

Find more resources about adoptees, NPEs, donor-conceived people, and others with genetic identity concerns in the “Resources” tab top right here.BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page for more articles 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 Jodi Klugman-Rabb, LMFTThe DNA discovery situation is unique in several ways. It’s unique to our time because of our access to science, and it’s unique in mental health because of the combination of issues triggered throughout the experience. Those who experience an unexpected DNA discovery may include adoptees, NPEs (not parent expected), and donor conceived individuals. Although they take different paths to their DNA discoveries, the emotional issues they experience along the way are quite related and, in some cases, identical. Yet, the mental health community isn’t at all well-prepared to deal with the DNA discovery experience.

Astonishingly, there are practicing therapists who cannot engage their empathy when facing a DNA discovery client. I hear stories of NPEs leaving sessions feeling worse than they did going in because the therapists dismissed their pain, just as their known families did. After seeking help to sort out their feelings and cope with their confusion, these clients leave with guilt added to the cornucopia of emotional turmoil, being told by therapists “he’s still your dad” or “it really hasn’t changed anything about you.”

In fact, much has changed for NPEs, but as in any case of grief, it often isn’t apparent to the outside observer. I counsel as many bereaved clients on how to engage support from loved ones as I do NPEs, and that’s because we as a species are not good at dealing with emotional pain. We want it to go away, to be as short lived as possible and be something someone else deals with. The DNA discovery experience rivals most traumas—with sudden grief and loss, unwanted changes in family dynamics, and profound identity confusion, all condensed in a short period of time.

As a licensed marriage and family therapist, I’m trained in all the areas triggered by the DNA discovery so I know to treat the discovery as a trauma that’s complicated with grief, identity crises, and the breakdown of interpersonal relationships. As a therapist, I’m skilled at the techniques and have the ability to recognize when something has crossed the threshold of normal to become clinically significant, and I have cultivated empathy as a general rule in the art of my field, because that’s the most important quality.

I recognized the need for a curriculum to organize how mental health professionals would respond to our fast-growing DNA discovery population, to help them access the skills they already had but didn’t know how to combine, so I created Parental Identity Discovery,™ a first of its kind treatment protocol dedicated to DNA discoveries. In more than 18 years of clinical practice, I’ve cultivated expertise needed for informed treatment of DNA discoveries: EMDR for trauma, grief counseling, and family systems and cognitive-behavioral theories. Living through the NPE discovery showed me how little I knew about identity, so I’ve set out to research everything my field has to offer and include it in the protocol, finding space for me to contribute to filling the gaps. Each aspect of the treatment relies on proven techniques to inform a new way of addressing generally individual issues.

Peer support is important in our large cohort to help people feel less alone and provide a more tolerant ear. But some people need more than peer support can offer, and for them, therapy can make all the difference. But it requires proper training and licensure. Finding a good therapist is harder than it needs to be, but they’re out there, and hopefully those who get adequate training specifically in the needs of NPEs will combine that special knowledge with the skills they most likely already have so they can truly be of service to people affected by DNA discoveries.Jodi Klugman-Rabb, LMFT practices in California. She writes about the NPE experience in the “Finding Family” blog for Psychology Today and hosts and produces the “Sex, Lies & the Truth” podcast. For more information on her work with DNA discovery go to her website or register for the training through Eventbrite.BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page https://severancemag.comfor more articles about the experience of NPEs, adoptees, and donor-conceived individuals.

• Please leave a comment below and share your thoughts.
• Let us know what you want to see in Severance. Send a message tobkjax@icloud.com
• Tell us your stories. See guidelines athttps://severancemag.com/submission-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 athttps://www.facebook.com/groups/402792990448461
• And like us on Facebook athttps://www.facebook.com/severancemag and follow us on Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag

By Billie BakhshiMy dad is my dad. I said what I said. You can’t change my mind.

My therapist has tried to—or at least tried to change the words I use to describe my father.

Over my lifetime, I’ve called my father daddy. I’ve referred to him as my father or Steve.

But he was my dad.

My dad was an NPE (not parent expected). He grew up with a drunk mother and without ever knowing his own biological father. He bore his stepfather’s surname and wasn’t welcome at the stepfather’s family homestead over the holidays, unlike his two half brothers—his stepfather’s sons.

I find it interesting that my dad referred to his own missing biological parent as his “sire.” He seemed to be a stickler for labels and calling things by their proper names, although I suspect, in his case, his choice of label was heavily peppered with anger and resentment.

He never knew his father. Or why he left. Or why none of his father’s family sought him out.

But my dad—he was my dad until I was almost four years old.

But then he abandoned me.

My therapist thinks that because he left me, and because he never resurfaced, his title should be nothing more than sperm donor. She thinks by calling him dad I give him too much power and influence over me.

There is language in NPE, adoption, and donor conceived circles to describe family members and relationship roles, but it’s complicated. Words and roles—like dad, father, donor—just aren’t simply defined anymore, and I’ve had trouble unpacking the roles and titles in my life.

The dictionary is useless on this topic.

I had a great conversation with a friend I met in an NPE Facebook group. Our very first conversation was on the topic of fathers. She was donor conceived but was absolutely adamant that this man—the donor—was her father. So I asked her about my conundrum.

When I explained myself she said, “If your dad had died in a car wreck when you were four years old, would his title be changed to sperm donor because he wasn’t there for you anymore?”

I certainly don’t recall seeing “beloved sperm donor” etched on anyone’s gravestone in the history of ever.

My dad was my dad.

Period.

Even if it was for just short of four years.

He was mine. My dad.

You can’t change my mind.Billie Bakhshi is now a fatherless daughter, a second generation NPE whose maternal grandmother was illegally adopted. Her mother was impounded at Booth Maternity Home for Unwed Mothers in Philadelphia, where Bakhshi’s sister, Donna, was given up for adoption through Catholic Charities. Bakhshi has half a dozen (maybe more) half siblings from her father. Where are they all? She’d love to know, too. Bakhshi lives in Las Vegas, Nevada with her husband, four children, a cockatoo, tuxedo cat, and neurotic chihuahua mix. You can follow her on Facebook and read more of her writing at The Family Caretaker. See her previous essay here and here.Do you have a story to share? We want to hear from you. Find our submission guidelines here.

Please return to our home page to see more articles about genetic identity. And if you’re an NPE, adoptee, donor-conceived individual, helping professional or genetic genealogist, join Severance’s private facebook group.

BEFORE YOU GO…

• 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 at https://severancemag.com/submission-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 at https://www.facebook.com/groups/402792990448461
• And like us on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/severancemag andfollow us on Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag

Tell me a little bit about your background, how you came to be interested in creating DNAngels, and how you educated yourself about genetic genealogy?

18 years ago, my aunt researched our Tippa family roots back to 1804, when these ancestors first sailed to America from Germany. My father surprised me with a beautiful bound book of this research as a gift, along with the story of how our last name was Americanized to Tippy. I loved sharing this history with my brothers, nieces, and nephews, relishing the sense of identity and family unity it brought me. I guess this is where my interest in genealogy really began.

In the Fall of 2017, I decided to create a similar keepsake of family history for my grandchildren as a Christmas gift. I already had an account with Ancestry and became familiar with using their data to access all types of records, such as birth, death, census, military, and marriage. It occurred to me the Ancestry DNA tests would include specific information regarding the actual regions of one’s ancestors, so I thought this would be a nice addition to include in their family tree book.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

Six weeks later, my test results arrived. As someone who loves family research, it was exciting to see so many relatives listed from first to fourth cousins! Searching for familiar names on my father’s side, I was confused as not one could be found. I decided to call a few Tippy family members who I knew for certain had also tested. They logged into their Ancestry account but did not see my results either.

In the back of my mind, the distant memory of a comment made by my uncle surfaced. He once told me my daddy could not father children, so none of his kids were biologically his. I brushed the comment off at the time, as my brown eyes were certainly the same as my father’s, making me confident I was his. Suddenly, my world turned upside down as I feared there may be some truth to what my uncle said.

The barrage of emotions I felt is still indescribable. As my entire identity was now in question, my world imploded. If I was not a Tippy, then who was I? Who is my biological father? What about my medical history? Does he know I exist? The questions were endless.

Luckily, due to my decades of interest in genealogy, I quickly located a genealogy group that taught me the science side of DNA. I learned to read centimorgans, interpreting the probable relationship between matches. They taught me to create mirror trees, linking matches to find grandparents. Since then, I’ve learned through doing and also networking with other genealogists for new ways to approach the more complex cases. The personal story of my being an NPE (not parent expected) was unknowingly grooming me to help others.

After the initial shock over my NPE status, the frustrations began. My mother refused to admit the truth to me or answer questions about my biological father. I now know this is an all too common occurrence within the NPE community for a variety of reasons.

Ultimately, through my genealogical skills, I was successfully able to determine who my biological father was. However, he passed when I was only 13 years old. Thankfully, my biological father’s widow welcomed me with open arms, paving the way to meet my six new-found brothers and answering many questions about him as a person and my new medical history. My relationship with these six men is still forming as we get to know one another. Even though we biologically share a father, we are still strangers in a way.

You began DNAngels fairly recently. How many people have you helped thus far?

We have accepted more than 1,000 cases and solved more than 900, so our ratio is a solid 9 out of 10 cases solved. Included in those numbers are our current year totals. We have accepted 400 this year and solved 333 year to date.  Our goal is to find an answer for every client. However, there are times when someone may not have very many high matches, meaning we hit a brick wall. We must have at least a baseline in matches to even begin researching. We do ask many of our clients to upload their existing Ancestry DNA to three other “free” sites to maximize their matches. This often brings us a few new matches to consider. Other companies such as 23andMe can provide valuable insight but can also be cost prohibitive for some individuals. DNAngels hopes to eventually stock additional tests for our clients who may be financially struggling.

How do you describe the services you offer and what tools you use to help clients?

First, we provide a safe haven for those struggling with their NPE or adopted status. Once someone has been screened, we place them into our Facebook Client Room which is 100% closed to anyone other than our clients, angels, and support staff. Here, we encourage everyone to share their stories, offer support, and ask questions. It truly is a safe haven community where we all genuinely care for one another.

We are in the process of building a smaller, more intimate group for those who are truly hurting or have specific issues they are dealing with. DNAngels feels a strong sense of supporting our community and is ever evolving to meet those needs. We have a licensed clinical social worker (LCSW)—Mary McIntosh—on our team who can guide us should a client have an intense need. On occasion, we have found a client in urgent need of mental health services and she has intervened.

For tools, we use Ancestry as our foundation to begin our research. From there, we have a multitude of subscriptions to maximize our searches and provide contact information for potential family members to help clients prepare to contact biological families.

Do you help everyone who asks or do you have criteria?

We do have baseline requirements. Our requirements include the following: the  presumption the parents reside in the United States; that the client has tested with Ancestry; that the client is willing to take an active role in the research process; and that the generally client must have matches that meet a certain number of centimorgan matches—three matches of at least 200 centimorgans with at least one tree—our starting point for research. Unfortunately, if someone only has very distant matches, it doesn’t offer us much to research. However, we do advise them of ways to help increase their odds and return if they discover new matches.

How many are you able to help relative to demand?

We turn very few away from DNAngels. I think the majority that don’t qualify are from another country or have yet to test with Ancestry.

How do you work with clients? Your website notes that it’s an interactive process. Can you describe that—what do you expect from clients?

Our search angels are volunteers. Many have full time careers and families, so we ask our clients to respond in a reasonable, timely manner or let our angels know if they need a temporary pause for a variety of reasons. Our team is spread out all over the US, allowing us to be respectful of various time zones and work schedules. We try to match angels up relative to client schedules and share information as we verify facts. In certain cases, some angels may have special interests or talents in specific cases.

While not required, nothing makes us happier for clients to check in once they’ve contacted their biological family. We genuinely want to remain a part of their journey as they bond with new relatives. We’re also mindful that not every ending is happy and we welcome all clients to continue being a part of our NPE and adoption community.

What kind of questions do clients typically ask when they’re interested in your services?

The first question is typically how much our services cost. DNAngels is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization, and we work entirely on a donation basis. We truly believe everyone deserves answers, regardless of their ability to pay. They also ask why we do what we do. Every member of the DNAngels team has been affected by DNA test results in some way, and we believe everyone deserves to have answers about their biological origins, regardless of their ability to pay. The work we do is so rewarding and also helps us all heal from what we’ve been through ourselves, and that’s what motivates us on a daily basis.

Are there reasons other than a lack of close matches that make some cases difficult to solve?

Definitely! The most common typical obstacle is when the biological mother is either deceased, forgets details, or refuses to divulge information and when there is more than one man who may be the potential father within a family. An example would be if a family had four sons relatively close in age and proximity to the mother during the time of conception and only 1-2 cousin matches are showing. Sometimes you need additional tests to confirm the biological father or siblings. We also commonly find a biological father may turn out to be an NPE as well, making the matches even more difficult to read. It is not uncommon for a cold case to have either multi-generational NPEs or the biological parent is a first-degree immigrant and records are slim and matches are few.

Are you ever able to find parents based on 4^th cousin matches or more distant?

Yes, we can. If there are really good trees and multiple matches at the 4^th cousin level, with excellent trees. We have special angels that can solve those. Laura is one. She is our lead angel and solves more than 50% of all cases at DNAngels.

In what ways do you provide support to your clients?

We understand that this is often a difficult time, and we never let our clients walk this journey alone. Our angel team is with the clients every step of the way, and providing an answer is just the beginning. We have a private client group on Facebook that is exclusive to our clients, where they can share their experience and support one another. We also offer 2 private support groups for our clients or anyone searching or in need of support. Our groups are DNAngels Search & Support, and Adoption Search & Support by DNAngels.

In what ways do they most need support? What are the most common issues you see?

Every client is different. Some are elated to finally find answers, while many have just had the shock of their lives and are devastated by this news. While family and friends often try their best to be supportive, they’re not able to understand how this discovery affects so many aspects of their lives. Just knowing that they’re not alone, and that every one of their feelings are valid, is so important during this difficult time. In addition, the LCSW on our angel team offers private sessions with our clients at no cost. We also have a pastor who is available for clients who need spiritual support.

Many of our adopted clients have grown up knowing they were adopted, so I would have to say the NPE community’s most common emotional need is overcoming the shock of finding out their identity isn’t really what they thought. This affects each person differently. Some people take it in stride; others it shakes to their very core. Many feel anger over being lied to, while others discover hurtful secrets and must work through this. Again, this is why we stress staying active within our community. Every person has something in common with another, and we don’t ever want our clients to feel alone.

Do the angels ever act as intermediaries?

We strongly encourage our clients to make contact with their biological family, but we review this on a case by case basis and will support the individual to the best of our ability.

Do you advise clients about how to make contact?

Absolutely! Making that first phone call or writing that first letter can be a daunting task. We offer support and guidance every step of the way and are there for the client regardless of the outcome.

What’s the rough breakdown of your clients by adoptees, NPEs, and donor-conceived people, and has that changed over time?

The majority of our clients are NPE, I’d say roughly 60%. Adoptees account for the majority of the remaining 40%, with only a handful of donor-conceived individuals needing ours services this year.

Are you looking for additional volunteers? If so, what criteria are there to be a DNAngel?

As we grow, we do look for additional volunteers. We are very selective with our angels and accept new volunteers on an as needed basis, and, occasionally, if someone really wows us with their passion and commitment. Not only do we require certain genealogical skills, we also have a set methodology we use for consistency. Angels also must work well with our team, and if they have a unique skill or passion, we try to incorporate it into our research.

Our team also consists of individuals who do screening, fundraising, web development, graphics, content writing, research, and provide emotional support, as well as several other functions. We value the many talents of our volunteers to help our vast community and meet a multitude of needs.

What else would you want readers to know or understand about DNAngels?

The overwhelming necessity for NPEs and adoptees to know where their biological roots originate is deeper than most can ever understand. We are committed to helping these individuals find their answers and offer dedicated support throughout their journey. We never require payment to accept a case, as we feel this is a basic human right for each person to know their biological roots. However, the resources required to sustain these efforts cost thousands of dollars each year. Eventually, as demand increases, we hope to support a very small staff for continuity in addition to meeting the cost of our yearly subscriptions, software, additional DNA tests, training opportunities for our volunteers, website maintenance, and office supplies.

Providing Additional Support

FOR MORE INFORMATION:

DNAngels

5920 Giant City Road, Unit A, Carbondale, IL 62902

Info@dnangels.org

Follow on Twitter @DNAngels4, on Instagram @DNAngelsorg, and on Facebook. BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page https://severancemag.comfor more articles about the search and reunion, 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 tobkjax@icloud.com
• Tell us your stories. See guidelines athttps://severancemag.com/submission-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 athttps://www.facebook.com/groups/402792990448461
• And like us on Facebook athttps://www.facebook.com/severancemag and follow us on Twitter and Instagram @Severancemag

Tell us little about yourself apart from your adoption journey and your podcast/genetic genealogy work?

I am a wife and mother of two. I’m currently on my fifth career. I made my living as an actress/singer for most of my life. That slowed down in my forties, so, needing a creative outlet, I went to beauty school and got a cosmetology license. I’d always been a genealogy hobbyist, but the advent of direct-to-consumer DNA testing changed my world and heralded a whole new skill set.

And the impossible question: Can you summarize your own adoption journey? 

I always knew I was adopted and was always implicitly aware of the general mismatch between me and my adoptive family. To be clear, that doesn’t mean I didn’t love and appreciate them. It means I spent my life feeling like I was “other” than those around me, and it was emphasized by the general consensus that I should try harder to blend in and not be my own person. I found my biological mother in my early twenties and it was quite uneventful and stress free. My parents were supportive of this effort and even reached out to my biological mother in solidarity.

Years later, after having my own children, I realized I needed to complete my search and began an arduous and often shocking journey into identifying my paternal family. It became an obsession. As has always been my way, if those around me told me that something was impossible, I leaned in to prove otherwise. Being hypervigilant is a common thread among adoptees and it has pretty much dominated my motivations in life. (For the full story, please listen to the first 20 or so episodes of my podcast “CutOff Genes.” Caveat: Genetic genealogy is relatively new and always evolving, and the testing sites update their platforms regularly. That said, some of the earlier episodes may contain content that’s no longer relevant.)

Can you describe your services as a genetic genealogist?

I work mostly with adoptees, donor-conceived individuals, and NPEs (not parent expected). They must take a DNA test first, and I usually insist on Ancestry.com because of the size of its database and the superior tree building and research capabilities. If/when I identify who they are looking for, I will usually ask them to write a letter to said family member that I then send. I almost always ask the client to write a letter briefly summarizing their life and their reason for reaching out.

Because of my personal experience I feel that I add an extra level of insight and understanding for all parties involved in the adoption triad.

How did your own experience influence your desire to help people find their families?

My experience taught me that the treatment of adoptees is (mostly) cruel, archaic, and exclusive. My desire is to help as many people as I can and fight for equality for all humans.

When you became interested, how did you go about training yourself to be able to use DNA to find families?

I learned in the trenches, if you will. In my own case, circumstances arose that established that the only way I was going to find my own truth was through DNA. There were so many resources online, as well as search angels willing to help and talk me through it. By the time I had my answer, I had a solid foundation in the technique. From there I spent a couple of years as a search angel, volunteering my time to find answers for other adoptees. Interestingly, my first few cases were for distant DNA cousins to me. In every case, I was able to solve the mystery, sometimes confirming how they are connected to me.  About a year and a half ago, I reached out to a Los Angeles-based private investigator, Jay Rosenzweig, whose company Birthparentfinder.com specializes in finding birth family. He’d used DNA, but not to the full extent and with the capabilities I have. He brought me on and I was soon able to prove that genetic genealogy was vital to the success of a search company. I’ve solved more than 70 cases for that company as well as more than 100 independently in the four years since starting this work.

To what extent, if any, do you advise or counsel clients or potential clients about the process, perhaps to manage expectations or prepare them for any emotional repercussions?

This is so important to me. As I said before, I think my insight is what sets me apart from a lot of other searchers. My experience has taught me to reserve judgment for biological families who have a tendency toward rejection. It’s important to remember that trauma was involved for the parent in addition to the trauma that’s inherent in being an adoptee. Much of the time, biological mothers experienced something that they thought must be unique to them. I often counsel by recommending reading material (such as The Girls Who Went Away) to begin the healing and help them understand they don’t need to feel the shame that was instilled in them so many years ago.

I also counsel my clients to expect the worst but hope for the best. Every case is its own entity. Often, time is needed for individuals to process this revelation—weeks, months, or years. It’s not for me to force reunion or “out” anyone. At the same time, I believe that the other children of biological parents (if adults) are not off limits as a last resort. They deserve to know that they have unknown family as well.

What are some of the most common issues clients voice and how do you help them?

I often hear “I just want them to love me.” That’s not a healthy attitude, though understandable. It’s important to realize that it’s out of the ordinary for a stranger to love another stranger simply because there’s a genetic connection. Love is certainly something that can develop, but should never be expected. Clients need to establish exactly what their expectations are and keep them low. Anything beyond that is a bonus. For me, the most important thing is for everyone to know their origins and gain knowledge of why they exist.

Do you advise them about how to make contact? What strategies do you recommend?

My PI boss has a different strategy than I do. He believes that no adoptee should reach out personally without an intermediary. He also tends to cold call people. He’s very successful at this technique, but I’m generally not comfortable doing it myself. If that’s what the client wants, I usually have Jay do it. The first time I was hung up on by a biological mother, I really took it personally and it took the wind out of my sails. I realized that sometimes you only get one chance to reach out, and if it doesn’t go well the door may be closed for good. I recommend snail mail (especially when reaching out to older biological family). As I said before, I ask clients to write a heartfelt letter introducing themselves, providing some info about their lives and what their goals are in this endeavor. It’s important that they express that they are no threat to any family and are willing to allow the contact to call the shots. Including a photo is often a good idea as it puts a face to this human that you are related to. I usually write a cover letter introducing myself and giving a brief explanation of how I arrived at my conclusion. I always offer to elaborate by phone if further explanation is required.

Under what circumstances do you act as an intermediary? 

If that is what the client requires, I will always do so. It’s part of the service. Sometimes people (on both sides) are not comfortable with a stranger being involved. I always present arguments for both sides and let the client determine what is best. Sometimes I learn facts about the biological family that inform me as to what may be the best way to proceed. Incidentally, that earlier case where the mother hung up on me was salvaged. I called her back immediately and left a voice mail telling her that her daughter had just wanted to thank her. She called back the next day and apologized. I acted as an intermediary for several months in that case. That particular mother was terrified of the rest of her family finding out, and her husband did not want their adult kids to know. Yes, I feel that that is an outrageous expectation for any man to put on his wife, but I digress. Anyway, a few months later, the mother was still sending messages through me and I had to tell her that I simply couldn’t work for them for the rest of my life. I explained to her that her behavior was probably making her daughter experience a second rejection, and the daughter was well aware of how to contact her directly if she so desired.  She understood and they began talking directly.

In cases in which you’re not able to locate birthparent, are there similar challenges that block success? Are there issues other than a lack of close matches?

Yes!  The biggest challenge—and the most difficult to explain to clients when I’m at a roadblock—is that if there is pedigree collapse, endogamy, or simply an NPE within a family, my job becomes exponentially more difficult. I take cases based upon the level of the matches, but it’s not uncommon to find out that those higher matches are also adopted or have a misattributed parentage event in their family that they themselves were not aware of. I can usually build a tree based on a match tree with just a couple of names in it, but if I build a substantial tree by using traditional genealogy methods and I am unable to connect that tree to any of the other matches, that match is no longer helpful.

Are most clients for whom you’ve found family ultimately glad they searched or are there some who have regrets? 

As far as I know, no one has had regrets. I think this has to do with managing your expectations. Most people realize that just knowing the facts makes it worthwhile. I know, for me, I feel more connected to the earth as a result of knowing.

Do clients follow up with you—that is, do they tell you about their reunions?

Yes! Some of them have been interviewed on my podcast.

Do you work independently in addition to with an agency? 

I work independently if that’s how someone has reached out to me. I actually prefer to work with the agency because I don’t enjoy the sales aspect of a business. But if someone is a listener or a reader and they reach out directly I can work directly with them.

What advice do you have for people who are unable to avail themselves of professional services? What tools or resources might they find most helpful? 

There are several Facebook groups (DNA Detectives, Search Squad) that have members who are search angels. That’s where I learned everything I know now. Blaine Bettinger has some great books and, of course, my podcast is a great, if I do say so myself, especially for newbies.

What mistakes, if any, do people often make when searching for family on their own?

In my opinion, the biggest mistake (and I made it myself) is to lead with the fact that you are adopted, NPE, or donor conceived. This often sends up red flags for people who don’t want to throw a relative under the bus, even if they have no idea how they are related to you. Also, asking matches if they know someone who gave up a baby is rarely effective. These are usually deep secrets within families, and anyone beyond a parent or sibling would likely not be privy to such information. I think the best approach is to mention that you’re trying to understand your DNA and build your family tree. Asking them to share the names of all four of their grandparents and their birth dates and locations is the most effective way to build a tree for them.

When and why did you decide to start the “Cutoff Genes” podcast?

Oh boy. Here we go. Four years ago there was an event within my adoptive family that was traumatic and resulted in even more trauma for me and my immediate family. This event brought to the forefront the narrative of “the ungrateful adoptee” and how that lie can be used to manipulate a situation to benefit those who use it against an adoptee. For legal reasons I can’t really go into any more detail. Suffice it to say that I was traumatized to a level that some days I didn’t think I would be able to go on. I knew I had to do something to take me out of my thoughts and provide a service for others like me. A podcast was the most obvious choice for me. I had wanted to do it for a while, but the thought of taking on something so time consuming was overwhelming, and I have terrible attention deficit disorder. Anyway, when all of this was eating at my life, I realized that I had nothing to lose by putting something out there, at the same time using my background as a performer to satiate my creativity and feel like something positive could come from the trauma. I connected with my old friend Richard Castle and, originally, my friend Renee Colvert, who has her own successful podcast (“Can I Pet Your Dog?”). The result was this thing that people come for the info, but stay for the relationships and rapport. We’ve just released our 102^nd episode.

What do you love most about doing the podcast?

I love having a gab fest with Richard (my producer and co-host). Rich is a musician and songwriter, so he gets to be the voice of the listener. He asks me questions that probably a lot of the listeners are thinking as well. Also, I adore our listeners!  We have a Facebook group that’s very active and lots of friendships have formed there. We very much have a conversation with our listeners, and they often provide content and insight for the show.

What’s surprised you as you’ve done these shows? 

Rich and I tend to go off on tangents. Sometimes it’s a classic television or musical theater riff—we met doing a production of “My Fair Lady” almost 35 years ago—and other times we get into a “pun-fest.” We crack ourselves up and, what was surprising to us both, was that our listeners seem to love that part of the show as well. This is somewhat serious subject matter, and we often talk about unimaginable pain. We do our best to balance the mood. I’m very much a fan of alternative comedy and I wanted to model the feel of “CutOff Genes” on of some of my favorite comedy podcasts. I always say “I’ll have to laugh or I’ll cry.”

What kind of feedback do you get? 

All kinds!  When I first started the podcast, I was clear that I am not a scientist and it’s entirely possible that I may misspeak. I sometimes cringe when people describe me as an expert, because there are people within the science community and the science behind DNA that probably take exception to that. The fact is, I am not a scientist, but I’m proud to say I am very good at what I do. I always encourage listeners to reach out with corrections or clarifications, and they do not disappoint!

Follow the podcast on Twitter @cutoffgenespod, and join its private Facebook group.

In her new podcast, Everything’s Relative, writer and therapist Eve Sturges talks with individuals whose lives have been upended by DNA surprises.

She sits down, for example, with Joy, who was told at age 10 she had been donor conceived and who, growing up, had little if any interest in finding out about her birthfather. But when facts later emerged to demonstrate how much like him she was, she became driven to learn everything she could about him—a process she likened to dating—and thus developed a profound relationship with a man she’d never known, the birthfather who died many years earlier. As Sturges observed, Joy didn’t know she was missing pieces until the pieces fell into place.

And there’s Mesa, who, before learning that she was an NPE (not parent expected), had had a tumultuous childhood and already was no stranger to trauma. Her discovery triggered a bewildering identity crisis; suddenly she had a Hispanic heritage about which she knew nothing. Finding out that she had no connection to the family she’d grown up thinking were “her people” and wanting to connect with her biological family turned her life upside down. In situations such as these, Sturges observed, where NPEs reach out and connect with their biological families, they in some ways also must become disconnected from the families they’ve known.

One guest, who chose to remain anonymous, shared the heartache of learning that the birthfather he never knew had known about him and had always suspected that he was his father. And although “Anonymous” was able to meet a half-sister and learn about his deceased father, nothing could quite compensate him for all he’d lost. “I can’t hug him,” he said. “I can’t talk to him. I can’t look at him.”

Sturges doesn’t control the conversations, add narration, or overproduce. Rather than interview them formally, she lets them reveal their stories, prompting occasionally, chiming in from time to time, and— remember she’s a therapist—asking guests how the experiences make them feel. For the earliest episodes she found guests who lived in her Southern California locale and taped the podcasts in their homes, creating a casual, intimate atmosphere that gives listeners the impression they’re eavesdropping on a couple of friends chatting over a cup of coffee.

In these freewheeling talks, her guests let loose, acknowledging the gamut of emotions provoked by their NPE journeys. When the DNA discoveries were recent, the emotions can be raw, and when the guests have had some time to absorb, there’s reflection. Sturges and her podcast participants make no effort to tidy their thoughts or make them more palatable to those who may not understand. They say it as they feel it. These are conversations about shame, anger, betrayal, frustration, rage, grief, and even, sometimes, joy. There are tears and laughter, irreverence and profanity—all inspired by what’s described as the “mind fuck” that is the NPE experience.

Still in its first season, Everything’s Relative provides a community and platform from which NPEs and others affected by their discoveries can share their stories. People who’ve only recently learned of the change in their genetic identity may think their experiences are unique and feel extraordinarily isolated and lonely. Listening to the podcast, they quickly find they’re not alone, that their feelings and reactions are often much the same as those of other NPEs.

Sturges sums it up this way: Everything’s Relative is “where we talk about all the unexpected shit that happens when you mail in a DNA test.” And while that sounds lighthearted, these conversations fill an aching need and serve a serious purpose. As one guest said, “Listening to the podcast makes me feel normal.” It’s validating, she added, to know that someone else is going through the same craziness. Krista, an NPE and fellow therapist, tells Sturges, “The more we share our stories, the more we normalize them—as abnormal as they are—the easier it will be for those that come behind us.”

Here, Sturges talks about how the podcast came about and what she hopes it will achieve.Professionally I am holding back on the details of my story because—trust me, it’s a good story with at least one extremely interesting character—I’d like to explore different avenues of production resources to tell my story and I don’t want to give it all away just yet. It might be a book, a separate podcast, or a film project someday. I can’t give away all the spoilers in my first season!

My story isn’t over—my life is still happening, and the layers of this discovery are still unpeeling. There are very real and alive people involved, including the mom and dad that raised me, the siblings I grew up with, and the new siblings who have appeared. As I navigate my experience, I am also navigating a lot of relationships and different emotions and reactions from the people in my life. I’m approaching the details of my story delicately because I am giving the people I love a little bit of time to catch up and process their own experience within this journey.

I talk about this here and there in the podcast, but one of the challenges of this type of discovery is the time-consuming nature of it. I would love to visit my newfound siblings. I have a lot of questions for them! They live all over the country. Organizing a trip like that costs a lot of time and money, not to mention emotional resources and the logistical organizing of school and employment. I’m not in a place to drop everything as it is and dive deep into another world. I have three children, a husband, and an active professional and social life in Los Angeles. I struggle enough to find time for my everyday existence, let alone a whole new world of people and histories that I didn’t know about. I hope that doesn’t sound cold, but I have to take care of myself and my loved ones first.In spring 2018, a man reached out to my husband with details of my early life that were eerily specific. He claimed to believe he was my biological father. Having never questioned my paternity before, I figured the best thing to do was a DNA test. It confirmed that this man was correct. A whole history I had never known was revealed to me about my parents’ early 20s and the first years of their marriage.

This affected me in all of the ways that NPEs describe: I felt shocked, confused, angry, and dizzy. I understood the phrase “walking around in a daze” more than ever before. Nothing has changed and yet everything feels different. It’s affected my relationship with my parents the most deeply. We are all struggling to reconcile our different perspectives with one another. We have tried reasoning with one another by talking, fighting, emailing, letter writing, and lots of crying. Each of us has our own journey of grief to explore. Therapy is helping each of us individually. I like to think that our family love is stronger than this unexpected variable, but time will tell.My parents and siblings have always known about the podcast; they are supportive but not exactly enthusiastic. We have never seen eye-to-eye about what should or shouldn’t be kept private.It’s true. I have not yet tested with a mail-in kit like 23andMe or Ancestry. When the man who turned out to be my biological father contacted me, I arranged a test with a company that focuses on the legality of DNA and not so much the community-building. I went to a facility where a nurse roughly scrubbed the inside of my cheeks with Q-tips and shipped them to a lab for me. I received a letter in the mail confirming our relationship 99.9999%. I then did it again with the man who raised me, and the results were 0%.

I intend to do the tests soon, though. I want to learn more about the ins and outs of what people are talking about, and I also suspect there will be more surprises in my genetics and my heritage. It seems like the least I could do, considering my podcast!The reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. I think the episodes offer intriguing stories to people who are not in the NPE world, and they offer solace to those who are. There’s no real way for me to know, but I like to think that these stories help listeners make their own decisions about how to handle an NPE reality.Every guest has thanked me for giving them the opportunity to tell their story. I think the “regular world” underestimates how much pressure there is to keep quiet about our experiences. Right now, almost everyone comes to an NPE discovery feeling isolated and confused. By participating in the movement to be seen and heard, my guests feel empowered. It feels good to be of service; they all express the hope that this project helps others feel less alone and less silenced.I strongly believe that sharing stories is a part of creating community, and a part of creating history.My biggest blind spot was the world of fertility clinics, sperm donation, and assumed anonymity. Episode five sheds some light on the subject, but I suspect it’s only the tip of the iceberg. I’m fascinated by the different players involved and the psychology behind each person’s actions. Another surprise has been the vast difference between each individual’s personal beliefs about the definition of family and what this new technology is doing to affect that. More than anything, everyone wants to feel like they belong somewhere, but the ins and outs of how that feeling is achieved is different for everyone based on a plethora of factors.More than anything I think people are struggling with the dishonesty of their parents. I think this speaks to the overwhelming belief (or misbelief) that we know exactly who our parents are. Learning that there’s a lifetime of choices we weren’t previously aware of is unsettling. Parents are the first people to shape our world; some disruption of that shape is a normal part of growing up, individuating, and developing empathy. An NPE-type discovery, however, can completely destroy the shape. It’s too much for a lot of people to handle.I imagine I’ll stick with the NPE and DNA-discovery topics for now, but I’m open to the show evolving as stories come to me. I’d really like to expand beyond the person who directly had the NPE, though, because I want to explore all the perspectives. I’d like to talk with mothers about their decisions to keep paternity a secret from their children, to men who didn’t or did know they had children out in the world, to men who contributed sperm for money in college but are now being approached by adult children asking for answers. I want to hear from every person involved.Yes, I work with genetic identity issues, and it’s almost entirely due to my personal experience. Also there are so many testimonies online from NPEs who have had bad experiences with therapists who don’t understand what they’re going through. I’m determined to be a better therapist for the growing NPE world and also to educate the mental health community about this tidal wave of need that’s headed its way.There are very few in-person support groups for NPEs, although there’s a growing need. I will start a support group this fall that I will facilitate as a therapist. I am also available for individual therapy, but the group offers people an opportunity to share their experiences and learn from each other.I started exploring the idea of a podcast within a support group on Facebook. I asked the community to help come up with a title, and I posted updates as the project came together. Throughout that process, people volunteered to participate. I kept the first handful of interviews local because I wanted to meet in person and have the experience of talking face to face. I’ve got the technology now to interview people from anywhere though, so the circle is expanding. I am always actively seeking new stories!Subscribe to Everything’s Relative on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever you get podcasts. And Look for Sturges on Facebook and on Twitter @evesturges.

It’s surely not hyperbole to say that “A Broken Tree: How DNA Exposed a Family’s Secrets”—a new book by Stephen F. Anderson—is the mother of all NPE (not parent expected) stories. It’s hard to imagine a more epic or stranger-than-fiction tale of misattributed parentage than this.

Anderson stared down a series of family mysteries and over decades employed DNA and oral history in an attempt to solve them. He describes his family of nine children as nothing like the “Leave it to Beaver” family he grew up watching on television. He knew his was different, but it took decades to learn just how different.

Because his mother, Linda, had little interest in settling down to raise kids and clean houses, and his father, Mark, a fire truck salesman, was on the road a great deal of the time, his older sisters took on much of the burden of caring for the younger children. There were rumors and whispers among the siblings of family secrets, but they were too disjointed and fragmentary to be understood. He turned to the person he most expected to have answers, but was rebuffed. He visited his oldest sister, Holly, to record stories about the family, and she refused to share a single recollection. Both intrigued and disturbed, he pressed her to reveal what she knew, but she was determined to say nothing until both of their parents had died. Her refusal only deepened his resolve to learn more.

Anderson learned to eavesdrop, and “parked” himself so he could hear what his aunts and older siblings were talking about. It was clear the family was hiding something, but the substance of the secrets remained a mystery. When Mark died, Stephen tried once again to nudge Holly into coming clean, but she was steadfast. She wouldn’t discuss anything until their mother was gone. His hopes of unraveling the mysteries were dashed when Holly died a few months before their mother did and took the secrets to her grave.

With Holly’s death, Anderson says, they lost a part of their family history, and he double-downed on his desire to know more. What he couldn’t have known as he resolved to get to the source of the rumors and whispers, however, was just how many family secrets he’d uncover or how twisted and tangled they were.

If anyone was well-equipped to sleuth a family mystery, it was Anderson. His avocation as a family historian, education in family and community history and library science, and his long career working in one of the leading genealogy companies—Family Search, International—gave him tools and knowledge others might not have had. Still, it was a challenge even to find the puzzle pieces let alone figure out how to put them together. And none of his education or work experience prepared him for the shock and emotional upheaval he experienced after he ultimately uncovered the truth.

Anderson and his brother Tim suspected that one of their siblings was an NPE. Their suspicions arose before autosomal DNA testing had become available, but they found an ally in an employee of private laboratory that offered other forms of DNA testing. In an effort to create a baseline—a genetic standard against which to measure the family relationships—they determined to get DNA samples from their parents. Their father died before they were able to accomplish their mission, but with help from a funeral director, they obtained a hair sample and were able to have it analyzed. Their mother provided a sample without hesitation. Anderson had no doubt that he was Mark’s son or that he and Tim were full brothers. They looked alike and both, especially Tim, looked like their dad. Still, he wanted to learn about his risks for hereditary diseases that ran in Mark’s family, so he submitted a sample of his own DNA.

When the results came in weeks later, Anderson recalls, his world was turned upside in one phone call. The good news was that he had no markers for the stomach cancer and diabetes he worried about developing. The bad news was that Mark was not his biological father. “Science and technology had stripped me of whatever sense of identity I thought I had,” he recalls. “I had no clue who I was.” He felt sucker punched. He couldn’t breathe and thought he might vomit. He was overwhelmed by feelings of rage, contempt for his mother, and the sense of having been betrayed. “It felt like my whole world was coming down around me,” he writes. He thought about having worried for so many years about the wrong hereditary diseases, all his genealogical research on a family to which he was no longer tethered, the way his father might react, and who his biological father might be.

Anderson couldn’t accept the results, and at the suggestion of the DNA lab, he gathered the hair chamber of his deceased father’s electric razor and had the shavings tested. He was gutted when the test results duplicated those of the initial test. He describes himself as having been on an emotional rollercoaster, but he soon found he was only at the beginning of the ride. To avoid a full-blown spoiler, let’s just say that Anderson wasn’t the only NPE in the family and that over time he was able to get to the bottom of most of the whispers and rumors he’d heard his whole life.

Don’t expect a literary memoir from “A Broken Tree.” It doesn’t boast an artful narrative structure or strive for deep character reflection and analysis. The author doesn’t aspire to crafting elegant prose or stringing graceful sentences. The text suffers in spots from repetition, and you may find it difficult at points to locate events in time and place. And yet it’s a compelling and extraordinary story of genetic disconnect, a page-turner in many spots. Readers are likely to be enthralled by the author’s experience and amazed—even inspired—by his determination to lay bare his family’s truth and his persistence. The book reads as testimony, and those who have had their own DNA surprises will nod in recognition, commiserating with the author at the same time that he validates their feelings about their experiences.

By Laura McMillianAs a teen, I’d once imagined I had a secret identity. Little did I know that I was right.

All my life, I’d learned to live with what could be described as a pervasive form of impostor syndrome — a sense that I was never fully able to know or be myself, whoever that was. Sure, I recognized certain stable personality traits in myself, such as kindness, rationality, humble priorities, and interest in the well-being of others. But they weren’t enough for me to fully know who I was on a gut level. I could also list all the factual pieces of information about myself, including the good, the bad, and the neutral — my ethnicities, behavioral and emotional tendencies, intellect, biases, tastes, political and religious views, and personal principles. But the sum of these facts never quite added up to me feeling like a full person.

I craved an understanding of the core aspects of myself and sought it by asking my parents about themselves and their family histories and by trying to understand my psychology and physiology through clinical testing and professional feedback. Still, something was always missing. Why? How could I fill it in and gain the self-confidence I should have had? The mysterious identity gap had me grasping at straws for all my young adult and adult life.

As I became older, the identity gap closed a little bit, and by the time I was in my mid-thirties, I might have felt as if I were 80% of a complete, knowable person. That missing 20% remained like a chronic pain I’d learned to live with and was resigned to always having. I still suffered from confusion in my career and relationships, and there seemed to be no answer or solution. But being stubbornly genuine, I never put up a false persona so that others could more easily grasp me. Those who did grasp and befriend me seemed to share a similar sense of alienation.

When I was 34, a 23andMe DNA test revealed that I was not genetically related to my dad, leading me to conclude that I had likely been donor conceived. Once I overcame the initial shock and denial, I felt as if a new door had opened. Finally, there was hope for a way out of my inexplicably confused sense of self. I’d always loved my dad and never suspected or hoped not to be related to him, but I chose to view this development in as positive a light as possible. This new knowledge offered me the chance to get answers about why I was the way I was — why I was different in personality and thinking style from the parents who raised me. Generational difference was never a sufficient explanation. Being donor conceived absolutely was.

The drive to identify half of my origins came over me like a tornado; this new and all-consuming obsession swept up everything in my world. The human mind naturally seeks completion, and mine very badly wanted it. For three years, I underwent trials and tribulations that failed to give me definite answers.

Finally, when my biological father appeared in my AncestryDNA test match list, I was able to walk through the door that had opened three years earlier. His four daughters, who didn’t know he’d been a sperm donor, had purchased the test as a gift, ironically, for Father’s Day. He hadn’t been expecting to discover offspring; he’d simply been looking to further explore his genealogy. Just as I had done, he reacted with denial and skepticism. But once the reality settled in, he was very excited to have found me and happy to get to know me.

The hopes that had been raised by deducing that I’d been donor conceived were fulfilled by getting to know my biological father. It’s been a wonderful and remedial experience, not only because he’s an incredibly kind and warm person, but also because learning about my genetic paternal origins has changed me for the better. After first spending time with him, I immediately felt a shift at my core. At age 37, that ineffable part of myself that had always felt missing finally appeared in its proper place. It felt as if something at the back of my mind was finally healing. There was both emotional relief and a physical sensation of calm — an unprecedented feeling of serenity and wholeness. I think my levels of oxytocin (the cuddle hormone) went through the roof during that trip, just from being with him. Before, I’d felt like a house with only half a foundation. Now, with a whole foundation, I feel complete and stronger than ever.

One of the clearest changes relates to how I deal with difficult people. In the past, when people were at odds with me in any way, my sense of self felt threatened, as I was easily thrown off balance. I avoided confrontation at almost all costs, with the exception of those rare occasions when I was completely confident about my position. I was afraid of being tongue-tied due to all the second-guessing and self-doubt, too easily believing others’ insulting statements or comments intended to correct my errors, at least until I later analyzed the situation. Speaking out usually wasn’t worth the risk, and I missed out on some important opportunities to stand my ground. I thought I’d always be that way, no matter how much therapy or self-development work I did. But now that I’m certain of who I am, my sense of self is tethered in place, allowing me to stand firmly when I’m challenged or mistreated. Or, if I really am wrong about something, I’m more comfortable accepting and admitting it, then moving on. This actually makes me more relatable and likable to others. While I try to choose my battles wisely and to be tactful, I’m no longer frightened by challenging conversations. For the first time, expressing myself is starting to feel completely natural and comfortable. I’m unafraid to be fully assertive, and even my professional confidence has improved. Putting myself out there isn’t so scary anymore. The self-consciousness and excessive self-inhibition have evaporated.

Not only were these changes instantaneous, but they’ve also been enduring and will likely last for the rest of my life. I’ll always be grateful for my biological father’s warm reception, alongside my upbringing by loving parents.Laura McMillian, PhD, CPC, ACC, is a certified professional coach who provides services to donor conceived individuals, donors, and parents. She lives in Hideout, Utah with her loving spouse Kevin and their 3 small dogs. Learn more about her practice here.