When I was 6 months old, I was in foster care. People often asked me about my birth mother. I usually replied that, unfortunately, it was a problematic relationship. She had a hard time being a loving parent to any of their loving children.
I have six siblings in which, five of them grew up in foster care. A kind family adopted my young brother; three sisters lived with grandma. My older brother lived with Charlena, who is now our foster mom, when I was 2 years old. We had been in many foster homes before that, and it was a tough time, especially for my brother, who has severe mental disabilities.
People always tell me that I remember things in my childhood because I was too young, but that is not authentic. The most painful moments in my life were when me and my brother were hurt and abused and when I was hurt alone.
Charlene, who I now call “Mom,” gave us a real home. But in foster care, you’re always afraid that something small could get you taken away again.
Growing up without knowing my biological parents were strict. Kids bullied me, saying my parents didn’t love me. I always dreamed of being adopted, but since my birth, she still has some illegal rights, so I can’t be adopted.
I met Mary and her husband when I was 13. Charlene helped them get clean, hoping we could build a relationship. But once they got stable, they filed for custody. I didn’t want to live with them because I didn’t trust them. After going to court for over a year, I was given the choice. I said no. Since then, our relationship has started to get worse.
I was so curious to know who my dad was, and when I asked Mary that same question, she told me that he was on a stand in Mexico, so it meant I was Mexican. I believed I’d never know him. Then, in 2020, my fiancé gave me a 23andMe DNA kit. I was scared but curious. When the results came in, I learned I’m not Hispanic. It made me feel like my whole life identity was fake was a lie that hurt me.
Digging deeper, I found the name “Geoff Billingsley” on my birth certificate. Mary said it was fake. But after connecting with DNA relatives and following clues, I messaged a man on Facebook who lived near Mary. He responded, asked for some info, and soon believed I was his daughter. He didn’t say no, and then we did a paternity test, which clearly said that he was my birth father.
His wife helped plan a surprise visit. Finance Kyle and I drove two days to Washington. It felt unreal to meet my dad for the first time; it was so hard to believe I had finally met him. We hugged for hours, cried, and shared stories. He even gave me a special bracelet he had once given to his mom. We spent a week doing everything from riding ATVs to hiking Mount Rainier.
I wish I had known my dad growing up, but I wouldn’t change how things happened. Meeting him was life-changing. Now, we promise to never leave each other, and yet we have planned my birthday vacation.
