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1. In seven U.S. states, according to their constitutions, atheists are barred from holding public office.2. Sodomy is illegal, in general, in Idaho, Utah, Michigan, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. In these states, sodomy is only illegal for homosexuals: Montana, Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas. Oral sex is often considered sodomy by many states, according to the Hebrew Bible. Except strangely, you don’t see people as equally outraged about this as they are about gay sex.3. Interracial marriage was still illegal in Alabama in 2000.4. Not until 2008 did the UN Security Council pass UN Security Council Resolution No. 1820 which declared rape and other forms of sexual violence a war crime, a crime against humanity, and a constitutive act with respect to genocide, arising from the conflict in the Balkans, in which violating women became an conspicuous weapon in the war.5. Since 1986, US authorities have had the legal right to access any 180-day old email, without a warrant.6. In Mobile, Alabama, it is against the law to throw confetti or spray silly string.7. In Saudi Arabia, it is illegal for any woman to drive a car. Right now, it’s illegal for them to vote too. Apparently it will become legal in 2015 (how sweet).8. In Dubai, extramarital sex is against the law and could result in jail sentences for over a year. Which means that in rape cases, both the victim and the perpetrator could end up being charged with the same crime.9. In Saudi Arabia, there is no minimum age for marriage. In 2008, a Saudi court refused an 8-year-old girl, who asked for a divorce from her 58-year-old husband.10. In 29 states in the US it is legal to fire someone for being gay.11. In Greece, police are allowed to arrest anyone suspected of having HIV. Police are also allowed to force HIV testing, to publicize the names of HIV-positive people and to have them evicted from their homes.12. In the Philippines you can be charged with the crime of “unjust vexation” for doing just that, vexing someone. And yes, it is as vague and arbitrary as it sounds.13. The only two states where divorce is illegal are the Philippines and The Vatican.14. In Thailand it is illegal to step on money.15. In Singapore, selling non-medical chewing gum or chewing normal gum is a fine of $1000. A second offense costs $2000 and being forced to clean a public area of the city for a day. If a person litters three times, they must clean the streets wearing a bib that reads “I’m a litterer.” Even pharmacists who sell the medical gum and forget to ID get two years in jail. Spitting is also illegal and can result in arrest.16. In July 2013 a law was passed in China that states it is illegal for adult children to not visit their parents “often” in China. They are also required to attend to their parent’s spiritual needs.17. There is a law in South Carolina called the no “mock proposal” law, which states that anybody above the age of 16-years-old is not allowed to perform a proposal if they do not mean it.18. In Montana, “proxy weddings” are allowed for those serving in the military, which means a friend can pretend to be the groom or the bride and the union will still be considered valid. In some cases both the bride and the groom are absent.19. In Arkansas there still exists a law that was instated in the 1800s that states a husband is allowed to beat his wife, but only once a month.20. In Rhode Island, a union can be considered invalid under the grounds that the party is deemed to be, collectively, an idiot or a lunatic.21. In Arizona, having more than two vibrators in your home is illegal. If you own more than two in your house, you can be subject to criminal possession.22. In Iowa, it is illegal for a man with a mustache to kiss a woman in public.23. In Massachusetts it is deemed illegal for a woman to be on top during sex.24. It is also apparently illegal in Massachusetts for a man and a woman who rent a room for the night to sleep in the nude.25. In Virginia, it is illegal for a man to kick a woman out of bed.26. In Britain it is illegal to handle a salmon in suspicious circumstances.27. In Vermont, a wife needs the husband’s permission to wear false teeth.28. In North Carolina couples must have sex in the missionary position and with the curtains pulled.29. In Britain, it is illegal to import potatoes into England or Wales if you have reasonable cause to believe that they are Polish.30. In Oregon, talking dirty while having sex is illegal. Even though they don’t really specify what qualifies as dirty talk.31. In Utah you can marry your cousin, but only if you are both over the age of 65. Because, you know, when you turn 65 you’re known to have impeccable judgment.32. In Britain you are not allowed to let your pet mate with any pet form the royal house.33. In Utah, a husband is responsible for his wife’s actions as long as he is with her at the time of her “actions.”34. In Kentucky, a woman cannot remarry the same man more than three times.35. In parts of India, a man who is in debt can offer up his wife until the debt is paid.36. In Greece, if anyone wants to get married, the law requires those to publish their wedding notice in a newspaper (written in Greek) or on the City Hall notice board.37. In France, it is stated as illegal to marry a dead person.38. In Britain, it is illegal to carry a plank along the pavement.39. In Hong Kong, there’s a law that allows a wife to kill her husband if she finds him cheating. However, she must kill him with her bare hands.40. In Britain it is illegal to operate a cow while intoxicated.41. In Pennsylvania, it is illegal to tie a dollar bill to a string on the ground and pull it away when someone tries to pick it up.42. In New York City it is illegal to honk your horn. If you do, you’re at risk of paying $350 fine.43. In Florida, it’s illegal to fart in a public place after 6pm on a Thursday.44. In England it is illegal to die in the House Of Parliament, but something tells me that if someone did do this, they wouldn’t face many repercussions?45. By law, any whale or great Sturgeon caught in the UK is the property of the Queen.46. In Samoa it is illegal to forget your wife’s birthday.47. In Britain, oddly enough it is illegal to be drunk in the pub.48. In Missouri it is illegal to drive with an uncaged bear49. In Turin, Italy, dog owners must take their dogs on a walk at least three times a day.50. In Honolulu, Hawaii it is illegal to sing loudly after sunset.51. In Sweden it is illegal to be found buying the services of a prostitute, even though prostitution is legal. Which means the prostitutes themselves would not be breaking the law. In the past few years Iceland and Norway have also adopted this law.52. In Victoria, Australia, it is illegal to change a light bulb unless you’re a licensed electrician.53. In the UK, a law still exists from the Middle Ages that requires all males over the age of 14 to be trained in shooting a long bow.54. Bangladeshi children of 15 and older can be sent to jail for cheating on their final exams.55. In Australia, men are free to cross-dress, just as long as their dresses are not strapless.56. In Florida it is illegal for a divorced or a widowed woman to skydive on a Sunday afternoon.57. In Switzerland, it is illegal to flush a toilet after 10pm. This one confounds me.58. In Canada, any comic book that portrays illegal activity is banned.59. In Argentina, there is a law that states that Argentine nightclubs must play the same amount of tango music as all other forms of music combined.60. In China, it is a law that a person must be intelligent to go to college.61. Married New Yorkers cannot get divorced on grounds of irreconcilable differences unless both marriage partners agree on those grounds.62. In Tennessee it is legal to carry a loaded firearm into a bar. Seems safe.63. In Norway, there is a law that protects all female dogs and cats from being spayed. Only male dogs and cats can be neutered. Also, an ancient Norwegian law still still exists that obliges all Norwegians to go out on expeditions to rape and plunder at least once every five years.64. In France, it is illegal to name a pig Napoleon. Apparently this is a slight to the great French general and emperor.65. In Britain it is an act of treason to place a postage stamp bearing the monarch’s head upside down on an envelope.66. In Russia, Vladimir Putin just recently made it illegal to tell kids that gay people exist.67. In Colorado it is illegal to collect rainwater. Apparently farmers and landowners are being punished for this.

I didn't expect to see a question like this on Quora, but this seems like a decent place to get some things off my chest.There could be what some would consider graphic content. This is also a trigger warning.I suppose there are many sadder stories, though my therapist has joked that I'd have a great movie plot.This story should begin with my mother, who had 3 children before I was born. She married a man twice her age when she was in her mid 20's. He fathered 2 children of hers, but from what I hear he was an alcoholic, and abusive man. He once managed to lock her and the children in their house in Texas before fleeing state from the police for some unknown charges. For some ungodly reason, she took him back, and they, with the children moved to Nebraska to be with some of my aunts and uncles.While in Nebraska, it was discovered that Ben, my mother's husband, was molesting a niece and possibly his own toddler daughter. Now, one would assume any woman in their right mind discovering their husband was molesting children would surely leave and press charges. My mother instead, packs up, picks up the 2 children from my uncle who was baby sitting, and hits the road with her husband who is once again on the run from the law.The next bit of contact from my mother to them is while they are in Wyoming. It wasn't uncommon for my mother to go long periods of time without contacting the family. This time when they heard from her, Ben was in jail and she had a new boyfriend. There was another period of no contact soon after.This un-named man fathered the 3rd child of hers, and they moved from Wyoming to Las Vegas shortly after. My aunt is contacted and caught up to date. Her new (ex)boyfriend has left her and the 3 children living in a car.Sometime after this - and yet another period of no contact - my mother meets my biological father, Phillip, and I was born. Though before I was even old enough to have any memory, my 3 siblings were taken into custody by Child Protective Services. Apparently the case had been ongoing while I was in utero, and didn't encompass me. Things worked a little different 25 years ago, I guess.Sometime while I was in pre-k was the last contact any of the family got from my mother. I lived with my mom as a single child, without any knowledge of my other siblings, or even my aunt's or uncles for quite some time. I had heard my mother mention her siblings in passing, but when asked about them, she said her family were all blonde haired - blue eyed racists who'd disowned her for being the only brunette child. I asked no further questions.When I was 6, my mother met a man via the “phone chat lines". It was ‘Tindr'- the 90's version, on a landline phone! I remember speaking on the phone with him once before meeting, and he seemed nice. Things moved pretty quickly from that phone call from what I remember. Not too long after, I came home from school and he was sitting in our living room. According to my mother the first things out of my mouth were, “Who are you? Where'd you come from? And how did you get here?” My concern probably wasn't unwarranted…John — this new man my mother had just met, did in fact have 2 children. Through marriage. And he was still married.In the blur of events that happened since meeting him, my mother had decided she was going to enter a relationship with this man and his wife. Within a month of meeting, my mother and I were moving from our 3 bedroom trailer, into a 1 bedroom studio apartment with John, his wife, and their 2 children. They're 4, and 5 years older than me, respectively. There were 6 of us in this this small apartment!I later learned that John's wife at the time didn't know my mother well at all and was sympathetic because she was being evicted from the trailer and had me. She and john hadnt been married long, but he was quite convincing, and she wanted to make him happy.We later moved into a larger apartment, we all got settled, and everyone became more comfortable with each other. I’m still friends with John’s and his ex wife's children, I even still call them my step siblings. They would call my mother ‘mom', and I treated their mother the same. It wasn't long before I called John ‘dad' as well.Up until this point in time I had never had a father figure, so I didn't know what to expect. But he was the one who dealt with punishments as opposed to our moms. I was never a ‘bad’ kid in the sense of being disobedient. Though I realize now that this was probably all a part of the grooming process, 7 year old me thought it was perfectly normal for all the siblings to be punished when one acted out.Eventually my older step sister discovered that if she went in the bedroom and “played nice” to dad she could get us all off the hook. During this time though was when she started acting out more. She was entering her teens and our parents chalked it up to a “phase".She would sneak put at night, and run away from home. She was soon the “What not to be” to our parents. Any minor transgretion my step brother or I would make was met with, “you're going down the same road as your sister”, or, “you're going to be just like her when you grow up”. These statement were not positive in any way. They meant we would be ‘hanging with the wrong people’ or going to a juvenile detention center because “if she doesn't want to be home that's where she'll stay”. She was presented to us as some rebellious jerk, merely for the sake of being a rebellious jerk.Things got rough between John and his wife. Whether it was my sister routinely running away, or other aspects of their love triangle, they divorced. My step siblings moved out with their mother and it was just my mom and I with John.Through this time things were much the same. My sister was used as cannon fodder against any small transgretion I might make. My life got much more restricted. I wasn't to be a single minute late home from school, regardless of if the city bus was late, or any freak accident. 60 seconds past the time I should be coming thought the door, I was standing in the corner for an hour each. 5 minutes late home from school? Standing in a corner 5 hours. 3 minutes late out of the shower? 3 hours in the corner.It got to where I could do nothing perfectly the way I was wanted to. My numbers grew and grew…. On weekends I'd be standing for 17 hours straight. I didn't have to wake up for school, but my alarm was set to wake up and go stand in the corner. Regardless of if my parents were awake or not. I feared what would happen if I even tried to sit and was caught.I was to wear my hair in a plain ponytail every day of school. No I couldn't just brush it and leave it hang. I spent “too much time in the mirror” getting ready. But doesn't a ponytail take longer than just brushing? “I'm the adult, you're the child.” I feared what would happen if they ever showed up at my school unannounced and saw it down, so I just did it.My step father was not what most people would probably consider physically abusive. Though when he spanked, he hit hard. He yelled quite often, and when your truthful answer was not what he wanted to hear, you were then called a liar, and praised when you lied to “admit” the truth.All of this was, of course, because he loved me and didn't want me to turn out like my step sister…. This leads somewhere, I promise.My step father never worked. My mom's SSI supported all of us in another one bedroom apartment. His ex wife was working and supporting him before us. He had a grandiose story for it though!Allegedly (I use this here because ‘supposedly’ this information could get me killed, and it's also unfalsifiable because the government would never give up such information for substantial proof), John was some high ranking official doing super secretive stuff for the government. Only he didn't get paid to do it because his patriotism was so strong, doing something good for his country was enough of a payment.This may seem dismissable when hearing someone mention this in a conversation. Most would quickly discredit it as a lie. John took it farther than just a white lie to a random person though. He led the people closest to him to believe they were being watched anytime out of the house. He had a cell phone, (and in the early 2000's not many people had cells), he would use to make “calls" to “senators”, “air force bases”, “the president”and other people. -I use quotations because I think we've all faked a phone call by now!This went on for years. He would do ‘field work' and occasionally be gone a couple days. My mother never questioned it and to me it was ‘super important adult stuff '. I didn't question it. I absolutely did not have reason to!My parents were, unsurprisingly, just as strict about my grades. They'd check my backpack while I was asleep since I slept in the living room on the couch. Any incomplete work — due later, or not was punishable. Don't even think about there being anything in there NOT school related! They'd go through every page.Sometime in 7th grade on the way home from school, I had a progress report that we were able to get signed by our parents for a few extra credit points. It was by most standards good, but I had a couple assingnments I knew my step dad would yell at me about. “It’s just extra credit, who cares?” I thought — gliding it out the door of the CAT Bus as we left one of it's stops.A couple weeks later that paper would revisit me in a nightmare that I was not asleep for. Somehow my step father got a hold of that progress report — in the exact form l had folded it before tossing it off the bus!These were the strange occurrences that kept my mother and I wrapped up in this story. You can choose to believe it or not, I, however still question if I'm being watched at times. My therapist calls it ‘PTSD’!Onto the reason for the therapist, and where this tall tale serves it's place…For a moment, I need — want? — you to believe this story of his. My mother and I believed it. From the time I was 6, he fed this story to us by the spoonfull with evidence! After 5 years of hearing this story, and 5 years of trying to meet his inconceivable perfection, he asks me the obvious; do I want to be like him when I grow up? Do I want to do the super secret adult stuff as a career? He can train me to be a special agent too. I naively accepted the offer at the ripe old age of 11.It started innocently enough, but it was super secret so I wasn't supposed to talk to my mom about it. We'd hang out in the bedroom and play memory games, he’d give me numbers to recite back a week later, and he'd tell me about how he trained with the marines. I don't remember most of those things now, as they were overshadowed by the flurry of events that took place in that room for the next 4 years.He told me to learn to be an agent, I had to learn to be an adult. And that adult agents sometimes did adult things to get information. In a nutshell, I was sexually assaulted through my preteen years.Of course, the world is not so kind sometimes, and blesses you with an easily agreeable, equally naive mother.If we learned anything from the previously mentioned exploits with 2 of my siblings’ father, it's that my mother is somewhat used to men fondling children. I later learned that her father, too, molested her as a teen.I don't know if that makes this next part of the story any better to bear.John apparently forgot after some time that this was all supposed to be “training” for me to be some field agent, or perhaps he remembered and simply didn't care. He offered to discuss with my mother, what we were doing — and of course I had no qualms over it! I was afraid to tell my mother before because of the secrecy and I didn't quite feel right about things. I breathed a sigh of relief that she would probably not agree, and this would all be behind me! That's not exactly how things worked out.My mother was given an invitation and blindly accepted in subjecting me to molestation, and further more, participating in the abuse. This went on until I was 15, and John became too ill to take part.During these years I hardly had any friends, I wasn't allowed in anyone's home, nor could I accept rides home from their parents. I wasnt allowed boyfriends even at 14 and 15, heaven forbid i even talk about having a crush on someone. John considered it cheating, as he saw me in the same way he saw his ex wife; we had a ‘love triangle’ with my own mother. School was no haven as I smelled like cigarettes, had a dorky hairdo, and was above all else, a nerd.The first time I thought of a plan to kill myself, I was 13. I did all the chores in the house from the time i was capable. My place was the bedroom and kitchen frankly… One night while doing dishes I thought of how convenient it would look to drop a sharp knife out of my soapy hands. Even if I ended up in the hospital insted of dead, I wouldn't stand in the corner for attempting suicide. It would be an accident!I never had the nerve.Surprisingly, I was allowed to have a girlfriend in 9th grade (Whether it was learned or not, I do swing both ways)! We were very close for some years, had a falling out in college, and are now on civil terms once again. I do feel terribly sorry for never having admitted to her what I was going through while she and I were together.In 10th grade, John was diagnosed with lung cancer. He was adamant about never seeing doctors and he went downhill quickly. Within a couple months he was placed in hospice care in our living room. The nightly “sessions” had dwindled and eventually stopped as he became too weak. There was a hospice bed and an oxygen system taking up our living room so I spent those last nights sleeping in my mothers bedroom. He did nothing but smoke cigarettes in that hospice bed, on oxygen, for 3 days.He died January 9th, 2009.My mother picked up a cigarette the next day. She also completely withdrew from my in any motherly sense. She ccompletely ignored my needs — emotional or otherwise. I was 15 and capable of feeding myself so I guess the important part was done.Thought things aren't so simple when you have my luck, so shortly afterwards, I would break my glasses in P.E. diminishing my sight to 6 inches in front of me, then tear a ligament in my right foot going down some steps later that day — putting me in a leg brace for the next 3 months. Right after the brace came off I just so happened to contract scabies!My grades started slipping (what a surprise) when my mother just stopped caring all together. My glasses had continued breaking into smaller pieces and I couldn't continue using them in class. Scabies, for some reason are more active at night, which meant I was up all night itching these little bumps! I was falling asleep in class, itching maniacally, I couldn't see 6 inches in front of my face and my mother was just too lazy to take me to a doctor for what I thought was a persistent rash, or an optometrist for being almost blind!Our relationship withered ever thinner, but we chatted occasionally. Sometimes she would just volunteer information, and around this time was when I first learned of my siblings. I half didn't believe it. It was too far fetched. Way more far fetched than John being an agent…Most of the time she would sit in her bedroom on the phone with her new boyfriends, oblivious, while I cried, out in the living room, carving my wrists… I should mention I’ve been self harm free for a few years now.At my wit's end, I called child protective services. After John died my mother allowed me to have a $20 prepaid cell phone. I sat in the bathroom with the door locked while I called. I didn't know if my mom would be mad if she overheard but surely they can do something about my mother ignoring my medical needs! And somehow their phone attendant got me onto the topic of John, and the sexual abuse...He was dead and it was over so I didn't think anything could be done about it. I just assumed the operator was being as thorough as possible, and I wasn't going to lie to any of the questions she asked. I must've been on the phone with her for about an hour before she asked for my school and said there would be officers there tomorrow to speak with me.I hung up and went on about my business, watching tv in the living room and not but maybe a half hour later there were two police officers at my door! It was 9 or 10 at night! They were supposed to show up at my school the next day to ask me more questions! My heart turned into a lump in my throat. I didn't know what to say. The younger officer perhaps noticed the look of angst I was wearing and asked me to come out and talk to him in the patrol car. It was October by this point, so it was getting chilly.All the memories of John telling me that I wasn't supposed to talk about what he did for a living, how my mother would be in trouble and I'd be shuttled around group homes for the next 3 years whirled in my head. if I was in trouble, was I going to juvie — like my step sister? The officer let's me sit in the passenger seat and asks what station I listen to as he flips on the radio. He listens to it to! I feel a sense of easiness settle over me and he explains that they're here because of my call, and the other officer is inside speaking with my mother.It was a flash. Like that - I'm gone from my mothers apartment. That night, before sitting in the patrol car was the last I saw of the inside of those walls. They wouldn't even let me back in to grab a teddy bear.It's all the same questions — this officer, the older one, the lady at Childhaven, the nurse there, the lawyer, the case worker, some other lady, my CAP attorney, the psychologist. I begin to fear that my answers are sounding too rehearsed. Not that they are, but I've had to answer them all so many times. ‘Nobody is going to believe this,’ I keep telling myself.There's court, and therapy appointments, I'm living with a brand new family, I'm going back to school, but its all a blur. I thought I was fine, I only realize now that it was such a blur.All those hours in the corner gave me a really bad perception of time. I could be sitting in a room for 2 hours or 6 and it would feel the same, so I'm even worse when it comes to longer spans.While I was in foster care, I became pregnant. It seems like just months ago, but my son is 7 now and lives with his father. My life didn't really get less hectic leaving my mother.I had my son at 17, his father 18. His mother was never fond of me, in fact i remember her once screaming me out of her house calling me a hood rat. I was only about 16 at the time. She was quite mature for a woman with kids of her own - not! To show even more of her distaste for me, when she found out I was pregnant she sent my son's father out of state to live with relatives and tried convincing him the child wasn't his. (I say she tried because he later got a paternity test.)Right before my son was born, there was an incident in my foster home with another child. The case worker had all of us removed and I was placed with my second foster parent. My next foster mother was paranoid, posesive, and controlling, and to this day still contacts me on Facebook saying ‘I owe her’.Once my son's father was ready to be a part of his life, my foster mother made it hell — with court, child support, visitations — nothing went smoothly. I guess I appreciate her intentions in keeping me from being hurt again, but all she did was make things more difficult.I was keeping in contact with my step siblings via social media throughout this time. My case worker even tried to help me find my biological siblingd, though all we got was a wcase number. Around then is when I learned that John had been molesting my step sister, while we all lived together. Those times she would ‘make nice’ to get us out of trouble, he was abusing her. And when she would run away from home he would make her out to be just a rebellious teen who didn't want to be home. He spun everything around to make her out to be evil and used it every chance he got to make sure I didn't become as brave as my sister. He once justified putting his fist through the bathroom door and dragging her out by her hair after she had locked herself away from him. The scratches down his arm from her that were bleeding were apparently not warranted. I now doubt she caused that sort of harm unprovoked, but when I was younger I believed adults by default.I now understand not everyone has your best interest at heart.I never planned on going to college. In fact I was certain it was out of my price range! But since I was in foster care I was able to get grants. My foster mother pushed me through the admitions process and everything because it was it was “free money” and who wouldn't go to college if they could? Except, because I had no plans to, I had no idea what to major in and whimsically chose art.In what is still a bit of a blur, I slacked off, didn't care, cut classes, got black out drunk a great number of nights before being of the legal age to consume, and for the most part, hoped I died. I do regret not taking the time to think out college, but at the time I didn't think I'd live through it anyway.Since that first thought at 13, I only assumed it'd be a matter of time before I was taken out of this world one way or another. I didn't want my son to watch me self destruct so I sent him with his father when he was two. Part of me feels like a bad person for never having that motherly bond with him, another part knows he's berter off elsewhere.I didn't expect to make it this far in life. I didn't know how, but I thought I'd be dead before 25, yet I'll be there in 4 months.I dropped out of college after the first year. I owe my grant money back but I can't keep a job long enough to pay it off. I always told my self dead people aren't bothered by debt.The problem is now, at 24, on antidepressants for the first time, I look back on this road and wonder how I haven't died from an overdose or alcohol poisoning. And I realize that I could have. I could have ended everything at 13, or 15 or 18 or 20! I wanted to! I had no clue what the future held and I had some shitty luck, I didn't think my story was worth being written, much less lived out.What I have also seen though, is there are amazing people in this world who HAVE ended their lives. They will not get to write their story. There is no real ending. They dont get to see what cool crazy technology comes out tomorrow, they don't paint any more pictures, they don’t grow old or mature. Life keeps going at its pace and you’re a part of it or you’re not.These experiences of mine may not have been easy to deal with. But outside of all the pain, there were moments when I escaped, and was free. And without the pain who knows what that escape would be.I saw people smile, I had epiphanies, I felt raw emotion.My life has led me to believe there is no true purpose other than to just experience. It has made me into the unique, multifaceted individual I am today, and I feel I don't even know who that truly is. Many of my younger formative years were taken from me, when I should've been growing a ‘me’.I'm not sure if there's a “me” as I'm looking for, in here, but dammit I'm here to find out.I do know I'm more than this story. As you are, your's.Recently I have found my mom's siblings on Facebook. They knew only little of me with my mom's lack of communication, but have been ecstatic to hear from me. They are the only reason I even know of the life my mother had before I was born and they're helping me piece together information that will locate my biological siblings. They are the exact opposite of the blonde haired, blue eyed, racists my mother spoke of. In fact, they're all brunette!I also learned that my mother had cognitive delays from when my grandmother was pregnant with her. My grandmother's pelvis left a crease in the brain with the way my mother was potitioned. This left her developmentally delayed, compulsively lying through her childhood. Her father took advantage of my grandmother paying no mind to her claims for some time. When the police were eventually involved my mother recanted her statements and there was nothing that could be done by her mother. She divorced my grandfather and took the other kids, but my mother chose to continue living with him until shortly before she met Ben.I have yet to meet my biological siblings, and I'm unsure if they even know about me. But this year has been a treasure getting to know my aunts and uncles. And for that, I'm glad I'm still here.