I have 6 half-siblings

Only one knows I exist. I think. I’m 36F. About 8 years ago, I found both my bio parents through Facebook. On the same day, while I was in a cubicle at my old office. The moment I saw my birthmother’s face, I burst into tears. In the months and years before that, I had been playing a game with the Tennessee state government, mailing letters and money and envelopes back and forth to get the sealed files from my adoption. With my BPs’ names and info finally in hand, I went to the public library to look at their yearbooks, just to see pictures of them, but for whatever reason, they weren’t there. Then, because this a long time ago and the world was a different place, I had to wait for them to join Facebook. But oh, one day, with the help of PeopleFinder, I figured it out: My birthmother goes by a nickname of her middle name, and her surname is from her second marriage. That was why she was so hard to find. The second I saw her, I knew. My whole life, I had told myself all I ever needed was to see her picture. But then I started clicking through her photos and posts. I was able to see her profile because was had a friend in common, just one. And she looked so nice. So friendly. So I decided I would reach out. Not knowing what to say, I consulted the Googles for some tips. All I could find was some antiquated advice about mailing actual paper letters that promised not to ask for money, as though I wasn’t reading these words on a computer screen. So instead I sent a Facebook message: I was born on my birthday to Your Name, born on Your Birthday at this hospital. I understand you may never respond. She wrote back in 10 minutes. “I’ve been wondering when I would hear from you. I hope your parents spoiled you rotten.” We began a correspondence. I was right - she is very nice. She let me set the pace. She filled me in on my history, and hers. She has three other kids, one daughter and two sons. All her kids have dark hair and dark eyes. I’m the only blonde one, like her. (Incidentally, my adoptive family all has dark hair.) My half-sister was born just 4 years after me, when she was 19. At that time, her youngest son was still in his early teens. She suggested we conspire keep my existence under wraps for his sake. She sent me some pictures of her - our, my - family, my uncle, my grandmother. She is estranged from her mother, which isn’t not surprising considering some of the dramatic language written in my adoption files. I live across the country in Southern California, but we arranged to meet when I was in town. I had to sneak away. My two best friends drove me. She was waiting inside. We hugged. I don’t remember much else. In the years since, our communication has dwindled. We are friends on Instagram and Like each other’s photos. Her daughter is now married with a little blonde son and lives a few hours north of me. They all, including my birthmother, make regular vacations to the place, but not to see me, of course. I stalk them all their photos, searching their faces for signs of myself. Occasionally, there will be an email, though I can’t remember when the last one was. I asked if she had reconsidered telling the kids about me. She said not yet, because her middle son, who is a heroin addict - that he had a brain tumor. He is OK now. I mean the brain tumor is OK. Unsure about the heroin. I’ll switch gears for a moment to my birthfather. I already mentioned I found him on Facebook that same day, but I didn’t contact him for nearly 5 years after that. The drive just wasn’t there. I wasn’t as curious. And as awful as this makes me feel, I will admit it anyway: from what I saw, he is not a person I want in my life. I eventually sent him the same message I sent my birthmother. I suppose I sent it because I felt guilty about not having done it. It seemed unfair to him. Either way, he didn’t respond for a very, very long time, so long that I had forgotten about it - so long that it was a completely shocking surprise when he finally did respond to tell me he was there if I “ever needed anything.” Then his wife sent me a Friend Request, which I have ignored. Later, he sent another message to say he contacted my birthmother. He has 3 daughters: a baby who just turned 1 (reminder that I am 36), one who is maybe 10, and one in her early 20s who mostly just posts mirror selfies of herself flicking off the camera while looking as high as possible. I’d like to think we could be pals, but I’m not sure now is the right time for us to connect. So for those of you who are still reading, bless u, my half-siblings are:1. Sister in California by mother 2. Brother heroin by mother 3. Sister selfie by father4. Brother by mother5. Sister 10 year old by father 6. Sister who is a baby by father And let’s cut to the past year. I’ve been doing a lot, a LOT of therapy. Maybe that’s why I’m here, now, posting this. I’ve been working on and through big things - everyday stuff in current life and old traumas from my past. Meanwhile, I joined 23andMe to get some, y’know, information. (My information is super bland and I would like a refund.) One day, it asked if I wanted to connect to relatives. Without thinking, I was like “sure; click.” Then, I nearly broke into a cold sweat when I saw, at the very top of my connections, my half-sister. (The one in California.) Well, I didn’t do anything. Obviously. I just said, “Oh, sh*t,” and told some friends what I had accidentally done and... waited. For what? I don’t know. Maybe she would never see it. Maybe no one would. Should I email my birthmother? Would she be furious? Had she already told the kids about me? Several weeks later, I got a message - “Looks like we’re related - by a lot!” with the zanyface emoji with the crack eyes and tongue hanging out. If you know, you know. Idk, I laughed. Sister, we are. I replied, “Yes, it’s me, the family secret” with the eyes. You know, the eyes. She said found she out about me through this (oops), had spoken to her mom and heard a little of the story. I told her I grew up where she did, was blonde like her son, and understood if this took time to process. I said I was happy to finally talk to her. And that was it. She hasn’t responded. Now I’m afraid I’ll never have a relationship with my half-sister. I’m afraid my birthmother has warned her away from me because I didn’t maintain steady contact with her. That I would break her heart. And what’s almost worse, I can almost feel her poking through my own social media picking out reasons not to pursue a relationship with me. I’m asking myself why I care so much about something I never had. There is that threat about reuniting with a biological parent that looms, “s/he can’t be your mother” - but that’s not really true for a sister, is it? Or if not a sister, why not just a friend? She’s only 4 years younger than I am. I grew up in a loving supportive family with a brother who was also adopted. We were close, but I always felt like an outsider. I’ve always felt guarded in every relationship I’ve ever been in, trading in vulnerability for boundaries. I’ve always felt misunderstood. I’ve always felt expendable. I’ve never felt truly bonded. I have an intense loneliness in the world. In my therapy, I’ve learned not only to move through and past the Things Done Unto Me by my adoptive parents (they were supportive, but god did they make so many mistakes), and also trying not to hold onto the shame my biological mother has passed onto me (it shouldn’t be hers either, but it’s definitely not mine), but I just cannot get the grasp of this connection thing. This rejection thing. Congratulations! you have made it to the end.