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The 60s


Seppen
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I discovered my true lineage last August. I was told the cruel man you thought was your father is not your father. I met my true father and had a DNA test. Indeed, he is my Dad, and we are making up for lost time.

Since then I have met several people who have also discovered their lineage in much the same manner as I did.

My son’s school principle approached me at a parent teachers conference and asked about our name change. She then informed me that both she and her husband were also considering changing their names because he just found out that his dad was not his dad and he just meet his biological father. They are approximately my age. Early 40’s

I met with a bank manager about my name change. She became excited about it, and asked me why I was changing my name. I told her. What then ensued was a 45 minute conversation about how her husband is going through the same thing, and that they are also considering changing names. They are also approximately my age.

A lifelong friend approached me and asked if I could speak to his cousin. She had just found out about her true lineage and was having a very rough time of it, and to compound everything, she is in the middle of a divorce. She is the same age as me.

Now to the title of this thread.

In one of a string of amazing co-incidences, I meet a man in his early 60s at a bar who I had a quite a long conversation with. He wanted to hear my story, so I gave him the short version. He was very intrigued and wanted to know more. He also asked me if I was going to change my name. I confirmed that I am changing it, and when I told him my blood name his jaw dropped to the floor. I confirmed my father’s full name, and suddenly he realized he just became part of the narrative that he was so intrigued with. He asked that I call my father right then and there. This man was my father’s best friend in high school and had not spoken with him in over ten years.

He was on the phone for quite some time, and afterwards, he began to tell me tails of what my father was like as a young adult. It was a wonderful experience.

Now here is the thing. When asked about how this could happen. How could everyone be so confused as to who is who’s father? I get the same answer. Like this gentleman, my mother, the man who pretended to be my father, my father; they put their hands up and say “hey, it was the 60s.”

This gives me pause.

Just how many of us are out there? I told my father’s friend about the people I have met that are in similar situations, and I asked him this question. He thought about it for a moment and he looked at me with genuine care in his eyes and said, “I bet there are allot more out there just like you. More than most would think possible”.

From there he began telling me what it was like in 1960s and the early 70s. The concept of free love and the hippy movement, Vietnam, and how it had a generation scrambling to define itself.

All of these factors had direct influences in my case.

I see statistics like 1 out of 10 children are the result of a non-paternity event. I wonder if that number should be re-examined in the context of the social environment that defined the 60s and early 70s.

Just how many of us are middle aged? I would like to see this number. I am beginning to suspect that the concept of free love actually had a price. And it is we, the people who suddenly have their identities turned upside down, who are paying it.

Edited by Seppen
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