I first reached out to my dad via Facebook in August 2012. After sending multiple messages that went unanswered over the course of that year, I grew frustrated and angry and gave up. I had acknowledged and accepted that I’d go through life without having all the answers and without knowing my father. It wasn’t the outcome I had expected, but I had grown to embrace it. On February 28, 2014, my world changed. I woke up to a message that made my heart sink, and my throat tighten. I checked my phone after getting ready for work, and saw his name pop up — it paralyzed me. What was I going to say? I had briefly forgotten I’d messaged him. I made an effort to try to move on and not take it personally that he had not responded to my multiple messages. I waited to get to work because I needed advice from my friends before sending a response.

My dad and I exchanged countless messages before talking on the phone later that evening. I was in a conference room at work talking to him on speakerphone as my friend wrote out everything he said on a whiteboard. We decided that night that we would collect DNA samples and mail them to the clinic to get expedited results. It all happened so quickly it seemed unfathomable that I lived this day. We talked everyday leading up to the results of the DNA test. We shared stories of our past and present, sent countless photos and emails, and became completely intertwined in each other’s lives. Every day I looked forward to another day getting to know my dad. I grew excited to tell him all about my life and share stories with him that would make him laugh, cringe, and cry.

We received the DNA results a few weeks later on March 11, 2014. We made a plan to meet in person, but I grew more nervous at the thought of meeting him face to face. I scoured the internet for stories that were similar to ours. I searched “things to say and how to act when you first meet your dad,” but the results were few and far between. There didn’t seem to be a playbook for meeting your dad at 23. I was going in blind with only a wandering mind and a lot of hope. I remember ordering a lunch box on my Virgin America flight. I’m pretty sure the meal was for children because it came with a pair of Dolphin shaped headphones, what I had just learned was my dad’s favorite animal. I found so much comfort in those headphones. They were a sign from the universe that everything was going to be okay, a sign from God that he was guiding me through this experience. I held the headphones and cried, and for the first time in a long time, I felt comfort. It was on that flight that I started to see our future in a beautiful light that gave me so much promise and joy.

We had been talking on the daily for about a month at this point, but I was such a nervous wreck to meet him — my stomach was in knots, I felt like I was going to faint. I had him meet me at my aunt’s house so I knew I would feel comfortable, or at least as comfortable as I could feel for what felt like one of the biggest moments of my life. Would my laugh sound like his? Another question I’d soon have the answer to.

I heard his car pull into the driveway and I went upstairs. I wanted to hide and avoid this moment. My heart was beating so quickly, simultaneously everything seemed to go in slow motion. I waited to gather my thoughts before walking down to greet him. I remember looking in the mirror and giving myself a pep-talk, fueling my mind with words of encouragement. My hands and legs felt shaky, I could hardly stand, let alone walk down the stairs. Here I was, the moment I was waiting for. But it wasn’t like I had dreamed or imagined. It wasn’t this magical moment from a fairytale — it was one of the most uncomfortable moments I had ever experienced. I don’t remember what exactly I felt when I saw him — I was in shock, I was numb. The moment felt so surreal. He cried instantly, kissed my forehead, and hugged me tightly. Being held by my dad didn’t feel like I had hoped, it made me feel awkward and uneasy. The longing I felt as a young girl seemed to have diluted with time and age. I had imagined this experience would be emotional, but the truth is, I didn’t know the man that was hugging me and it was truly uncomfortable. I could not change the past, I could not reclaim something I never had, and I could not suddenly feel comfort in my dad’s arms. At this point in time, my dad was a stranger to me. Only time would change that, and to focus on what we could have had would have been destructive.

We sat at the kitchen table having mundane conversation. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, It’s almost as if we just stared at each other. All the words I had and all the questions I planned to ask escaped me. It sounds cliche, but my words failed me in this moment and there was nothing I could say. I examined him like bacteria under a microscope, closely analyzing every move. I watched the way his mouth moved when he asked a question that pressed for an answer beyond “yes” or “no,” or how he played with his hands nervously as we talked. I analyzed his oversized dress slacks and button-up shirt (we still joke about this — his pants are so big on him!). This was my dad — he was funny, charismatic, kind — he was nothing like the monster that I had made up in my mind. He was real and all too human. I wondered if underneath his well put together persona he was fighting the same gut wrenching turns in his stomach.

We spent the day chatting, ordered pizza that night, and had our first dinner. I remember texting my friends saying “I’m having dinner with my dad!”. This was all too normal for them but they knew what this meant to me. To me, this opened up a world of new possibilities, new adventures, new relationships, and new love. I met his wonderful wife and discovered I had 7 new siblings. It was overwhelming, challenging, and so exciting, and I was thrilled to have more family.

Today marks four years since the first time I met my dad. I live in San Francisco and my dad lives in Indiana, so our relationship has been mostly digital. We’ve met face to face a dozen or so times since that first meeting, but it feels like I’ve known him forever. Building and growing our relationship didn’t happen overnight — there have been hundreds of hours of phone calls, emails and text messages sharing memories of our past, hopes of our future, and stories of everything in between.

The void I felt as a young girl is still present at times — my dad missed my first steps, my first home run, my cheer team making it to nationals, and my college graduation. However, I’m focused on a future of new beginnings and I find myself looking forward to all aspects of our relationship and the memories we have yet to make. After all, our story is just getting started.