DNA is a tricky thing. I recently DNA tested myself and my daughter because, frankly speaking, I didn’t believe she was mine. Sydney, my daughter, is very fair in comparison to me [as you can see in the picture]. But her skin tone was not the only factor in deciding to have a DNA test done. There were many many others [I have caught my daughter’s mother in a couple of “big” lies before]. Aside from that, I feel like the worst father ever now. I had already mentally prepared myself to deal with her not being mine, but now…I don’t know what to say. I mean…it’s not like I haven’t been taking care of her and I go see her as much as possible. I just don’t know what to think. The things that I know are: 1) It’s a good thing that I have eliminated doubt from the situation. 2)…actually that’s about all I know at this point. It’s almost like she is being born all over again. That is all…[I know I usually say a lot more but…yea]
Wait, I know why I feel like dirt now [this understanding came about 30 minutes after writing the first part]. I feel this way because deep down inside I had never fully accepted that Sydney is my daughter [until now] because of the drama and lies preceding [and following] her birth. Now that I know for sure, the full weight and magnitude of it all has come down on me. I guess I need to grow up or something like that. My mind is in overdrive contemplating how much of a “grown up” am I, and have been. I am revisiting every [parental] decision I have made. Analyzing them for immaturity or saying things to myself like “did I really do all that I could in this situation”. I think the biggest thing that I am taking from this is that I don’t “know it all”. I had never really pegged myself as one of “those people” but clearly I have a type A [the “A” is for asshole] personality. Just when you think you have stuff figured out, you walk down a new road [sigh…]. So…yea…I guess that’s all again.