For those that do in fact know me, know the stories. The twisted, shake your head, kind of stories. The kind, dare I say, make some people think of me as a stereotypical statistic. Here’s the short version: I’m a (supposed) Latina from the Bronx. Raised by a single mother. I thought I knew who my dad was (a Latino), given that his name was right there on my birth certificate, yet never to have met him growing up. To only find out at the age of 36, that my father was actually a family friend (of Polish decent). Obviously, NOT the name on my birth certificate. When I initially received that nugget of information, I was actually happy to have not had father A as my biological half, but rather father B since I had acquired actual memories with this person. I wasn’t fazed at all that in an instant I went from being Puerto Rican, to being only half that and half Polish.
As the years have passed, and the fact that my mother, my birth certificate father, my revealed Polish father, and my sister have also passed on, I’ve become more interested in all the now unanswered questions. Questions that only these 4 people would have been able to truly answer and of which I never took advantage of when I had the chance. At that time, it didn’t seem like a big deal to dig deeper other than to confirm the surfaced fact.
So, now here we are. My many questions and no answers. Enter an awesome (albeit emotional) commercial on Ancestry.com where a group of people of different ethnic backgrounds congregated in a gymnasium to participate in a DNA test. I felt an overwhelming, gripping feeling to do the same. I wanted to know, because I was left with a bunch of what if’s and no one to turn them in to something credible and concrete. Years passed and I did nothing but talk about it. Talk about how great it would be to see if Polish father B was even a possibility. What if I had been misguided on that as well? What if Puerto Rican Father A was it all along? And because I only provided you with the short version of my insane identity issues, there were a bunch of other questions as well.
Oh how I love Christmas and 2017 was no exception. My curious husband gifted me a DNA test from Ancestry. I was elated. Funny how this is what I’ve been wanting for so long and yet it sat on my desk for a week. I was actually nervous to start the process. What if it revealed more than what I was ready for? But I bit the bullet and filled up that little vile with my nasty spit and shipped it out.
The waiting game begins. And a couple of weeks later, I receive an email that stops me in my tracks. I slowly open it up and it’s an update from Ancestry to advise me they received my package and that the process has begun. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath. I let out a sigh of relief. Confirming that I’m not emotionally ready to find out the facts.
Well, time is up!!!
Ancestry has sent me my results. Though, believe it or not, I have yet to open them up. It’s been sitting in my Gmail inbox for two days now, TWO DAYS… waiting for me to take in the details. And STILL waiting. How long am I willing to wait? Why am I so nervous?
— The Pretty Platform