Growing up, my father lived just two floors above us with my godmother, Rachel. My parents were never a couple, only interacting as friends about my needs. For years, I was frustrated by this unusual arrangement and my mother’s refusal to explain it.

My confusion turned to resentment after a friend’s parents divorced. I began to blame Rachel for keeping my father from us and started to avoid her, seeing her as the obstacle to a normal family.

The truth emerged years later when I found documents in my father’s drawer while cleaning. I discovered my dad and Rachel had been married long before I was born, which meant my mother was the other woman.

I confronted my father, and he revealed the entire story. He had cheated on Rachel with my mother, who was also her close friend. My mother became pregnant with me, causing a huge betrayal.

Despite her pain, Rachel forgave them. My father explained she chose to stay in my life because she loved me as her own daughter from the moment I was born.

Hearing this, I was overwhelmed with love and respect for Rachel’s incredible forgiveness and kindness. I realized I was lucky to have two mothers who cared for me deeply, and our unique family was built on love, not just tradition.