I discovered in October 2021 that neither of the people that raised me were related to me, but they went to their graves believing I was their flesh and blood, my once black ringlets weren’t Irish at all, my “interesting” nose wasn’t the product of an accident I’d had as a small child, and my gut instinct that I was Jewish by heritage was actually correct. My entire life was in fact a lie.
My birth mother was, and still is, a horrible, horrible woman who finding herself pregnant in 1966, told another man I was his child, she abdicated her motherhood, and left me (and later another little girl) to be raised by this much older man and his elderly mother (who believed I was her grand daughter). I’ll gloss over my childhood, but I was told my entire life that my nose was ugly and something to be embarrassed about, by the same elderly lady who I called Nana. Nana loved me, but she had outdated Victorian ideas about so-called beauty standards. She and other adults in my life found a lot of fault with my appearance in general, but I chose not to change it later as an adult. It was mine and part of me. In October 2021, it was my nose that helped convince me that the DNA tests were indeed correct. My “shameful” nose is a typical Persian Jewish nose, identical to my real father’s – I am the female image of my birth father down to every detail. The nose, that nose is actually “the family nose”. I finally have my peace and am proud of how I look. No longer “shameful”. (Edited for clarity)
Photos of me in my early 20s, in the late 1980s with That Nose. The 3rd one is me now in my late 50s…
UPDATE; thank you so much for the 2.3k upvotes and mostly uplifting comments. They are much appreciated. I wish I’d have had some of you around me as a youngster.
UPDATE: 8th January 2026, I’ve just come back to this post after a year. Thank you for your generosity of spirit and kindness. It is very much appreciated.