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But my alcohol abuse got worse and I also started using drugs such as cocaine, ecstasy and speed. Because I was young and living a glamorous life, it was easy to mask my addiction. But
inside I was hurting more than ever. A few of my friends noticed my unhappiness and started to worry. “You’re 22 and if you carry on living like this, you won’t see 23,” one close pal told
me. In the back of my mind I knew she was right and started going to 12-step meetings to tackle my drug and alcohol addiction. I quit being a backing singer and joined a band made up of
recovering alcoholics like me. However, I realised that if I was ever going to feel at peace, I needed to find my biological parents. At 23, when I was a year sober, I started trying to
track down my birth mother. In those days there was no internet so I got my biological mother’s name from the council and tracked her down using birth and marriage records. Eventually I
found an address for her in East Finchley, north London, just a few miles from where I’d grown up. I sent her a letter with a photo and she immediately called and said she would like to meet
me. I was over the moon and a few days later we met. The first thing I noticed was that our sense of style was exactly the same. She was wearing a beautiful dress and I’d bought the same
one just a few days earlier. We chatted about our lives and I found out she was just 17 when she discovered she was pregnant after a fling with an Italian man she met in a nightclub in
London. Nobody in her family was told she was having a baby and instead she was sent away to a home for pregnant teenagers. She had no choice but to give me up for adoption. But for now I
knew the trauma my biological mum Pat had gone through. Over the next few years we continued meeting up and I met my half-siblings too. Although I now live in New Jersey, we speak on the
phone and see each other as often as we can. I was so happy to be reunited with my birth mother but never thought I’d get to meet my biological dad, as Pat only ever knew his first name. But
in 2016, almost three decades after I began my search, I did a DNA test to find out whether I really did have Italian heritage. Not only did I find out that I’m part-Italian but the test
results matched me with a woman who was also living in America. I asked a DNA expert to look at the results and they told me I had a half-sister. I couldn’t believe it. We started messaging
and I found out that she had a similar story to mine: her biological mum and dad had a fling and her mum got pregnant. She was adopted but a few years ago she’d managed to track down her mum
and our shared biological father too. It was almost too good to be true. I was sceptical about whether this man would really be my dad but I asked her to call him and explain the story to
see if he would meet me. LONG LOST FAMILY LOOK BACK AT SOME OF THEIR REUNIONS Then a few weeks later, the three of us met up in a nearby cafe. He was an outgoing Italian man called Antonio
and he was in his 70s. He was shocked to hear about me, as Pat had never told him that she was pregnant. We took a paternity test to make sure he was my biological dad and it came back
positive. And that was that. In a few short months I went from thinking I’d never meet my dad to standing right in front of him. Now I’ve met Antonio’s wife too and she welcomed me into the
family with open arms. LOOSE WOMEN: DNA SHOCK THE PANEL WITH INCREDIBLE TRICK And the strangest thing is they live just 15 minutes away from me in New Jersey and have done for years. It may
have taken nearly 30 years but it feels good to finally piece together the puzzle of where I came from. And I’m glad my three children have met their biological grandparents. I still love my
adoptive parents as much as ever but tracking down my birth family has made me feel whole. ● To pre-order Somebody’s Daughter by Zara H Phillips, published on February 22 (£8.99, John Blake
Publishing) call the Express Bookshop on 01872 562 310 or visit expressbookshop.co.uk