I grew up believing that the persons I was  living with was my mother and father. This was not so! When I had my first child I found out that the man I had called father was my stepfather!  And they had not told me, I found out myself. - I was very disappointed, but I didn't tell anyone,my husband was the only one who knew. I did not tell my mother or stepfather either what I had found out.
I did not contacted my real father, because he had never wanted to see med, so why should I want to see him. So were my thoughts.
When I was 37, I fell ill. I had a neuroses. I was suffering from anxiety, and it was very bad. I had anxiety from I woke up in the morning and till I went to bed in the evening. It lasted 6 years. - During this journey through anxiety I decided that I would try to find my father. I didn't want to, but I thought it might help.   So  in 1989 I found myself standing outside his door, ringing the bell. - I so wanted to see him, and I so wanted to run away. My husband was with me, and my father's wife was there, too. Luckily, because otherwise we would not have said much (I had not told them, that I was suffering from neurotic fear, I was too ashamed to do so). - When we left their house, I remember thinking, "I have been thinking and dreaming about this for 7 years, why am I not happy, exited, thrilled"? I felt nothing!                                      
After this meeting we saw each other now and then for dinner or lunch together with our partners, and step by step I came to know my father. I didn't like him, but it was good for me to know what kind of person he was, what we had in commen, what had happened back in 1948 and so on. - He is dead now; but our acquaintance lasted for about ten years, and I am still in contact with his wife, she is 87 now.