Learning I’m a product of rape has shattered me. My mother was sick thinking she would die. Told me my father was her stepfather, who raped her repeatedly until she got pregnant at 17. Her mother disowned her, leaving her homeless. That’s when she met my stepdad’s family, the man I call father. She admitted contemplating killing me after birth, but motherly love stopped her. I’m 31, a lawyer, and my life feels like a dark movie. I’m heartbroken, crying, grappling with being the child of a monster. I don’t understand why she told me now. The truth has upended my world, leaving me lost in pain and confusion, questioning my identity and existence.