At parties, they all speak Farsi – I want to learn the familial language. Does this new information change me? I want to embrace my heritage, but I wasn’t raised with it would that make me an impostor? With their support, I’m soaking up Afghan culture. I still face an identity crisis, only a different type. Lots of his family are still here in Vegas with open arms they’ve welcomed me. A few weeks ago, I had my first video call with my dad. Alex lived in Afghanistan with his wife and kids, but his mother – my prospective grandmother – lived a short drive from me. I asked my mum: he could, she recalled, be an Alex? The final name on the list. Finally, last November, they sent me a list of names. All I knew is that this man would have been in town nine months before I was born. I messaged one of these newfound cousins and explained my situation. She’d never considered him a possibility. Maybe there was this one Middle Eastern guy, she said, but they’d only met once. I called Mum and suddenly a memory of a man was triggered.
Some of them – from names alone – I just knew would have to be related to my dad. Lower down the page was a long list of cousins: once you spit in the tube and send it in, you receive a list of relatives who have also signed up.
Opening the results was one the most shocking moments of my life – apparently I’m exactly half Afghan. I didn’t intend to find my father, but my roots. I have a different complexion to the rest of our family. Mum had mentioned previously she’d been dating – among others – a Puerto Rican guy at the time of my conception. Our intention was to learn about my ethnic makeup, that was all. Well into high school, I just accepted it would never be figured out.Īnd then in 2016, out of the blue, my grandma bought us both DNA tests online. None of the potential candidates that Mum identified matched my genetics. Right after I was born, we took a bunch of paternity tests. It’s a city where plenty of men come and go.
FATHER FINDS LONG LOST TWINS FREE
I never knew who my father was, and my mum didn’t either let’s say back then she was living young, wild and free in Las Vegas. I lived with her for a few years as a baby, but I ended up being raised by my grandma. My mum had me when she was 17, super young. Jordyn Myers: ‘I’m excited to embrace it all.’ Photograph: Drew Anthony Smith/The Observer ‘I discovered I’m Afghan’: Jordyn Myers, 21, aerospace engineering student I want to encourage others to not waste any time. If I’d found him sooner, I could have had so many more years of loving – and being loved by – my father.
I’m going to write a book, not just to tell this story but to try to reach teenagers who also have missing parents. In a matter of months he went from total stranger to being one of the most important people in my life the same for my children. He’s more than just a father, he’s a best friend. Being his only child, meanwhile, worked out perfectly for me after 35 years apart, selfishly, I didn’t want to share him. He’d raised a son, when in fact he was the child of another man. Still, she has no memory of him at all.Īnd here’s the craziest bit: there had always been question marks over whether my dad had been a father. Now she accepts him we do things as a family. Dad says they were only together three times. It’s strange to this day my mum is adamant they’ve never met. I showed him a picture of my mum and he recognised her instantly. But 21 days later, my search angel had found my father. It wasn’t an easy task – turns out my dad was one of 12 siblings. Thankfully, a friend connected me with a search angel – volunteers who help people like me find their lost relatives. There were random third and fourth cousins, but I was at a loss. A year later I turned to online DNA tests, unsurprisingly not matching with the Whitehead family.
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