I had a few excursions on my own during my time in Dublin. The time I saw a mural and followed it all the way in an alley which led me to two women who I watched walk away and duck under a small hole in the wall. I decided to investigate, and after walking through, it turned out to be the local football stadium which introduced me to meet someone who mentioned a match was happening that night.  Or the time I went to see the Book of Kells, traversed Trinity College, which, I found a bit underwhelming. The moment on my own that I chose to write about was a time that I did not intend to be on my own. I remember I needed to eat lunch and I diverted from the group in Howth to find something that could accommodate my Celiac Disease (gluten free food). 

I remember sitting down at the bar and ordering my food. For some reason I noticed all the male bartenders had hair similar to mine. Brown curly hair, and mine was even curlier than it usually is being by the sea. My next thought was something my mom told me a year ago. She said your dad is not your biological dad. She mentioned a man with a last name that was vehemently irish starting with a “Mc” at the front but I forget what followed. I remember breaking down, crying. 

It was something that I had pushed down for a long time. I am not even sure it is true. But in that moment it was crushing. The idea of thinking an absolute my whole life can turn out to be a falsehood was jarring. It goes even deeper when my father was a single parent for most of my life. Biological or not that is my father, and I never paid what my mother said any mind; until this trip.

I left the Pub and scaled the elevation towards the summit. No idea of where anyone was but somehow stumbling upon them almost immediately as I made it up. I was greeted with smiles, generosity, and companionship. Then I looked over at the beautiful fields, sea stretching far past the eye, and cliffs embroidered with greenery and jagged rocks. I guess, in that moment, I felt ok. Whether this is true, or this is not, ultimately I am here, and my experiences are real with or without a label to define them. 

I didn’t expect to be vulnerable in a public discussion but I felt it would be a disservice to myself for not talking about an experience that was fueled by emotion, made me question my existence, and ultimately drew me closer to understanding my own identity. This was hard to write about but Im glad I did.