For thirty years, I believed I was adopted and abandoned by my birth parents. My dad told me the
story when I was three, saying my real parents couldn’t care for me, and he and my mom
adopted me to give me a better life. But that truth was shattered years later.After my mom
died in a car accident when I was six, my dad raised me alone, but things changed.
He blamed my flaws on my “real parents” and often reminded me of,
my adoption. I never questioned him—until I met Matt, who made me wonder if my dad
had told me everything.I decided to visit the orphanage where I was supposedly adopted.
To my shock, they had no record of me. Confused and desperate, I confronted my dad, who
admitted the truth: I wasn’t adopted. I was his wife’s child from an affair. He had lied to
me to cope with his anger and resentment.The betrayal hit hard. I had been raised on a lie,
and all those years of feeling abandoned made sense in the worst way. I left my dad behind
that day, determined to move forward and finally let go of the past.
