At least, not unless I could somehow develop retrograde amnesia:
This doesn’t imply that I am a “mere” product of my family history (and the surrounding social/political/economic/cultural context). For example, I was subjected to (broadly) similar socioeconomic context as my idiot, heroin-addict half-brother. HE turned into a morbidly-obese, racist, chain-smoking heroin addict. I did not. If anything, I became the diametrical opposite of pretty much everything about my own relatives: extremely skinny, non-smoker, openly contemptuous of — particularly — opioid addicts, almost reflexively anti-racist, etc.
My idiot, heroin-addict half-brother is basically the fruition of everything else about my relatives/PA “dutch” country, distilled to brute essentials:
The vast majority of all of my other relatives were overweight/obese, racist, simultaneously ignorant of/bigoted against Jews, etc.
I find that…..worrisome. How much of my individual identity is authentic, and how much of it is a mere reaction to the fact that I was “raised” by fat, functionally-illiterate, racist, xenophobic scumbags?