What do you do when your family tells you one version of who you are, but your heart and history say something different?
You trace the truth.
For decades, I lived with unanswered questions about my ancestry. I was told conflicting stories about my roots, my relatives, and even my place in the family. I was expected to accept these stories without question. But something inside me said: no. This doesn’t add up.
So, I turned to genealogy.
What started with a family tree sketched on scraps of paper became a 40-year global investigation. I traveled from India to the UK, from dusty archives to digital DNA platforms. I used every tool available: ancestry websites, birth records, death certificates, newspaper archives, and eventually DNA testing.
And what I found both amazed and saddened me.
I discovered ancestors from 15 global regions. I found records of adventurers, orphans, misfiled identities, and colonial immigrants who had shaped our family story in ways no one had ever acknowledged. I verified relationships that had been denied. I corrected names that had been hidden. I uncovered truths that had been buried, sometimes maliciously, sometimes simply out of shame.
One of the most eye-opening parts of my journey came through DNA.
A simple saliva test revealed connections I could never have confirmed otherwise. I matched with relatives across Ireland, Cornwall, Devon, and even Northern India. Some were delighted to discover me. Others, not so much. But what mattered most was this: I had evidence.
I had proof that my version of events wasn’t delusion; it was fact.
This research didn’t just change my understanding of my family. It changed my relationship with myself. I stopped seeing myself as an outsider and began seeing myself as a historian, a documentarian, and a living record of truth.
Of course, not everyone was thrilled by my findings. Some relatives pushed back. Some still do. But truth isn’t about comfort but rather about clarity. And clarity sets you free.
If you’re starting your own genealogical journey, here’s what I’ve learned:
- Start with oral history—but question everything.
- Document every source.
- Expect resistance.
- Be kind to yourself when the truth hurts.
- And never underestimate the power of DNA.
In writing “I Am My Own Ancestor,” I combined history, science, and memoir to preserve a legacy that might’ve otherwise been erased. Not a legacy of wealth or fame, but one of truth. Of survival. Of belonging.
You have the right to know where you come from even if others want to keep it secret.
Curious about your own lineage? This memoir might be the push you need. Explore the book today.