At age 19, I learned shocking news about my dad: he wasn’t my biological father. This put me into a tail spin, the fallout of which lasted for years. Why hadn’t he told me? What did this explain about our similarities and differences? Did he love me more because I was adopted or less because I wasn’t “his?” This was a particular shock because as the only daughter and youngest child in a family of brothers, I was a daddy’s girl. Now, was he really my “daddy” after all?