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When I was five years old, my mother remarried. The man was respectable. He adopted me and legally became my father. The government even changed my birth certificate to erase the existence of my biological father, but my brother and I still say we are ‘half bastard’. My mother is a graceful athlete, a talented musician, a learned scientist, a good housewife, and a lot of other things. She believed that every middle-class girl must take ballet lessons. My mom loves ballet and she hoped that it might help me to not be such a clutz. My new step-father would pick