I found my birth parents in college after holding the secret of discovering I was adopted in 5th grade, a secret that my adoptive parents lied to me about my entire childhood. Most would classify me as mixed race by my skin, but I identify as part of the human race first because I wasn't raised in a racial culture. I've always looked for somewhere and someone to belong to. My teen daughter's dad asked for a divorce after almost 20 years together—the more I became who I told him I was in the beginning (not straight and open to loving more than one human), the less he wanted to be married to me. While we get along, I am still grieving the family I thought I had built. I found the love of my life on an audio app. I was excited to explore polyamory, but it's been 3 years on and off, but he is still my best friend, even though he gave notice to move out of the room we rented, but he is still my best friend. I've moved to a place I know no one at the start of building my business. I'm tired.