Imagine opening a message on social media, finding it contains a wedding photo of people you don’t recognise and being told that one of the bridesmaids staring out in black and white splendour is your mother. This was my introduction to what my mother looked like just four years before I was born, an encounter with family dynamics that made me re-evaluate my sense of “belonging” and concept of what “family” means. 

My cousin came across the photo when she was clearing out her mother’s home and, knowing my mother had shrouded her early life in secrecy, took a snap and sent it to me. The photograph was of my aunt’s wedding day, a smiling couple in late 50s couture flanked by a beaming family. I barely recognised my grandparents, I’d known them when they were older and careworn, but which of

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