Thought Catalog

Family

“Finding myself” in relation to my travels make it sound as if I actually left my right leg in Medellin, or something. But “finding myself” is exactly what I’m trying to do.

Because after 23 years of thinking that I knew my ethnic background — of thinking that I knew who I was — I have found out news that changes everything, but at the same time, nothing:

I am (probably) black.