Gemma*, 46, from the Midlands, found out that her beloved dad, Jack*, wasn’t her biological father after a throwaway comment at a funeral. Gemma’s mother had died eight years earlier and never told Gemma the truth about her paternity.
Whenever I hear stories about children being born outside of marriage, such as Dave Grohl’s newborn baby, I think of my own family. My biological father, James*, took over 40 years to claim me as his.
The news that my beloved father, Ed*, wasn’t my biological father hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt as though my whole life – my identity and everything I had known, trusted and believed to be true – was a lie.
I remember the day I found out the truth like it was yesterday. I was at the funeral of one of my late mum’s friends and chatting to the husband of another family friend I hadn’t seen for many years. He asked after Dad and then, after I’d told him all was well, said, casually: “I’m glad to hear it. I always thought he was something of a hero for taking your mum back after everything. And taking you on.”
Taking me on, I thought. What could he possibly mean? I asked him outright at which point he immediately started looking panicky and made excuses to leave.
Questioning everything
My mum, Rachel*, had died of heart problems when I was in my 20s which was devastating. Mum and I had always been close and shared everything, from the dramas of my love life to our favourite books.
Even though Mum had been born with a heart murmur, it had never really seemed to impact her. She led a pretty fit and active life, and worked full-time as an art teacher.
The news that my beloved Dad, Ed*, wasn’t my biological father hit me like a ton of bricks.
So when Mum started suffering from dizziness and palpitations we thought it was probably down to her working too hard and would be quite manageable. She deteriorated very suddenly and a few days after being discharged and then readmitted to hospital, she died of heart failure.
This latest revelation brought everything back. I went over and over those last few weeks before Mum died.
“How could she not have told me this?” I kept thinking. “Maybe it wasn’t even true,” I thought, telling myself the friend had got it all wrong. But, why say something like that?
I went round and round in circles and couldn’t stop thinking about it. A few weeks later, I contacted another old friend of Mum’s who got in touch with my biological father on my behalf.
Bombshell news
An email from James, who I hadn’t seen for years and couldn’t remember very well, followed a few days later. “I believe I am your biological father,” it read. “Your mother confirmed this to me before she died.”
I felt numb with shock. James and Mum had, he wrote, had a two-year affair and I was the result. He’d wanted to get in touch before, but kept quiet out of respect for his wife and my dad, he said. There it was. No apology or even much of an explanation.
The days that followed felt like a bad dream. I spoke to my sister, who is four years older than me, and told her what’d happened. We both felt shocked and stunned that Mum had kept this from us. Her immediate thought was that Mum must have been having the affair when she was a toddler.
“Who was looking after me properly at that time if Mum wasn’t?” was my sister’s initial reaction.
I knew I needed to pluck up the courage to speak with Dad about it but kept putting it off. How could I even begin to broach something like this?
I couldn’t answer that, of course, but also felt quietly annoyed that she immediately thought of herself at a time like this.
I knew I needed to pluck up the courage to speak to Dad about it but kept putting it off. How could I even begin to broach something like this? And what if he rejected me and decided he couldn’t love me after I had told him? But then, I reasoned, from what I had heard, he already knew and it hadn’t made any difference.
An awkward meeting
I asked James if he would do a DNA test with me to confirm things and he agreed. He lived a few hours away in the South West so I took a friend with me for support. My husband was looking after our children as the only other person I could have asked would have been Dad and I couldn’t explain to him what we were doing.
When James opened the door he immediately looked familiar and we shook hands awkwardly. He offered me a Bloody Mary but it was the morning so I opted for tea. It was all rather awkward.
I tried to ask him about Mum but he kept changing the subject. Rather than ask me any questions about myself or my family, he talked at length about himself and his property business.
I tried to ask him about Mum but he kept changing the subject. Rather than ask me any questions about myself or my family, he talked at length about himself and his property business. He seemed to find himself fascinating and clearly expected me to as well.
After an hour or so, I asked him if he would do the DNA test I had bought (a basic spit in a tube type thing) and he reluctantly agreed. After the test was done, we carried on talking for half an hour or so before I made our excuses and my friend and I left. I didn’t know what to make of it.
Less than a week later, the results came back as a match. I wasn’t surprised.
A very difficult and painful conversation with my Dad followed where he reluctantly admitted that he had known I wasn’t his but said it had never made any difference to him. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got two beautiful daughters who I’m very proud of. End of story,” he said.
Ultimate betrayal
One of the hardest things for me, however, was, and still is, the sense of betrayal. I still find it hard to accept that Mum, Dad and several other family members, including my uncle, knew about my paternity and kept it from me. Didn’t they think I had a right to know who I was and where I had come from?
I still find it hard to accept that Mum, Dad and several other family members, including my uncle, knew about my paternity and kept it from me.
Growing up, I’d always felt a bit different from my sister, who is tall, blonde and academic, whereas I am short, dark and didn’t do as well at school. I remember going through a phase of thinking I was adopted and asking Mum about it. She just laughed and dismissed it. Now I wonder if I subconsciously knew I was someone else’s daughter all along.
Unconditional love
There was also the fact I had four half-siblings I’d never known about and would have loved the chance to get to know. I have met them now but they were as shocked as I was about the whole thing, especially the older two as their father was married to their mother when he had an affair with mine.
I refuse, however, to feel any sense of shame for the circumstances in which I was born. I have been raised with unconditional love and I’m a product of my upbringing just as much as I am of my genes.
I refuse to feel any sense of shame for the circumstances in which I was born.
Meeting my biological father was underwhelming, at best, and I don’t feel the need to pursue a relationship with him. But I will always wish that Mum could have told me the truth and talked to me about her affair.
So, hats off to Dave Grohl for owning up to his mistakes, although I can only imagine how devastating it must be for his wife and children.
I believe everyone has the right to know who they are and where they come from. The fact it was something that was denied from me is something I’ve struggled to come to terms with but, after meeting my biological father, I can only conclude that my mum kept him out of my life for a reason. And that is something I have finally learned to accept.
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