I Found Out Who My Real Father Was At Age 20

Flickr / edward musiak
Flickr / edward musiak

Both my sister and I have naturally blonde hair and blue eyes. Everyone has always wondered where the locks came from. People always thought we were adopted in contrast to the rest of our family who was full of very dark haired people. We were the two white sheep in a black sheep family. Little did we know.

Personality wise we always thought we just took after our Mom’s side. My maternal grandparents were crazy, but the good kind of crazy. The best way to describe my mom’s side is loud and loving, we used to have Friday night pizza with all of them at my grandparent’s house and watch movies on the huge 72” screen (back in the late ‘90s early 2000s). Everything was love and laughter.

Dad’s side was always the insane side. You had to act just the right way and say the right things, or an explosion would happen. I didn’t enjoy going to their house very much. They were never really happy people; my father wasn’t satisfied unless he could bitch about something.

As I got older the yelling got worse, he started really hitting my sister and I. Naturally we fought back, it was bad because he was so much bigger than us. He’d go off about anything too, someone thought he was our grandfather, or if someone thought we were adopted.

The verbal abuse was worse though. I’ve been called every mean name you could imagine. When I was thinking of joining a sorority when I started college, someone asked me if I was afraid of hazing. I told them I thought I could handle it because no matter what some “bitchy girl says to me, I’ve heard it ten times more or heard it ten times worse from my father”.

As we got older it also became apparent that my sister and I were quite intelligent. At age 8 I tested out of elementary, middle school and high school reading tests; I actually had a college reading level with an IQ of 125. Rather than a point of pride, he used it as something to shame us. If we learned a new word and tried to incorporate it into our vocabulary Dad would accuse us of trying to confuse him and using “ten dollar words” to be “uppity”. Dad did not graduate high school, and claimed to hate anyone that went to college.

According to him, people who have “real life skills” (he was a bus driver) are ten times smarter than anyone with a college degree. There was no middle ground though; we were either too smart or too stupid. When I started applying to colleges he refused to take me for tours, claiming that no one would accept me.

I was accepted to all the schools I applied to and got into my number one with a $20,000 scholarship. Did he say he was proud of me? Nope. Instead he tried to stop me from going and then pulled me out a semester later.

When my sister and I got older, sorry to be cliché, we blossomed. I hate to sound self-centered, but we both are reasonably attractive; which made things way worse for us. My dad started saying really disturbing things, like I was just like the “snobby pretty girls” that rejected him in high school. Dad would ask me intimate and inappropriate details of my sex life, before I even had one. To say it was uncomfortable is an understatement.

Everything cumulated in a huge incident last year, I hate going into detail so the lowdown is that he was arrested for physically assaulting me. I left home until now.

See you may ask yourself how my mother stayed with him all this time and while I’ve been mad at her I do understand it better. My mother is a nurse, she’s a caretaker; for 26 years she saw my dad as a broken little bird that she has to care for and protect. She just loves way too much. Not anymore. She’s filing for divorce.

I guess you could also ask how someone could do all of this to his children. How anyone could make sexually remarks to them or not want the very best for them. Well this weekend I learned a 20-year-old secret from my mother.

He’s not my Dad.

It turns out that my mom really wanted kids, it makes sense she’s a caretaker. Dad turned out to be sterile. So my mother got artificially inseminated. Both my sister and I share a father so we’re fully biological sisters. Our bio dad had blonde hair, blue eyes, a very high IQ, was athletic and getting his PhD is psychology. So all of it makes sense, why he hates us, why he acts the way he does.

It’s not excusable, but it makes sense. And it’s saved my sanity.

See for 20 years I’ve wondered why he could treat me this way, and I’ve felt guilty for the intense hatred I’ve harbored for him. But I don’t have to anymore.

Sure, it still sucks knowing that he’s a sick enough bastard to take something out on me that was neither my choice, my fault, hell I didn’t even fucking know about it, but I will survive. I always do. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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