The introduction of my story is profusely painful. I was not aware that I was adopted. I don’t even have a glimpse of an intellectual view of my biological parents. I’ve been consulting the wrong ancestors all this time; I cannot even exhume them and verify their DNA. It is a painful tragedy to lose your biological family, but I had to accept that death is something every individual cannot bypass. Most of the time, I picture how my life could have been if I had my biological parents. In retrospect, my life is incomplete because I don’t know the whereabouts of my remaining family.

The family that adopted me is treating me lovely, and they are not dysfunctional, but still I’m in a dilemma. I’m unsure whether I should retract them or stay. I have the resources to search for my remaining biological family, but I might find them to be very riotous. I must raise awareness about this matter to the public; maybe they will have a different perspective. I don’t want to grow old and bespectacled without acknowledging my family. I won’t be a bachelor forever; I’ll have kids and they’ll need a surname.

We had to call house paramedics to authenticate the DNA, and finally I can say I have found my biological siblings, but one is transgender and the other one is immuno-deficient. One brother did not really like me; he tried to gather ammunition against me but lately started to love me like the rest. They are a great family and they are not delinquent; I just have to restructure my routine and behaviour. There can’t be any reversal now; I just have to adapt and adjust. Oh, how exhilarating it is to have your family.


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