There’s a saying that goes, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.” This isn’t entirely true: At age 34, I was legally adopted by my stepdad, Tim. That summer, my husband and I adopted a four-day-old baby girl.

We usually adjust to the family were born into–it’s not a choice. But sometimes we’re thrown into a tumultuous situation, and we have to find a way to deal with it. This is what happened to me when I was 11 and my parents divorced. Soon after, they both remarried and I found myself with two new homes, four new siblings, and two new parents.

My biological father was never really committed to our family. When my stepdad entered the picture, I realized that I could choose not to have a relationship with my biological father. It’s difficult to come to terms with the fact that your father is simply not a good person. You want to believe that, in sharing the same genes, you share an undeniable bond. Ultimately, I had to admit that this wasn’t true.

My second choice was easier to make. My stepdad is a great guy, and he loved me as his own from the start. He raised me to be the person I am today, and I am fortunate that he came into my life.

Our relationship has made me believe that nurture can trump nature. My stepdad and I are both environmentally conscious, we’re both boisterous and verbose, and we both enjoy the challenge when someone says we can’t do something. I have no doubt that these characteristics came from him, as my biological father has none of them.

Still, I never expected anything to change with my stepdad other than for our relationship to continue to grow. I considered him my father, and always introduced him and my mother as my parents. But last year, when it was just the two of us out for dinner, he set some papers on the table. “How would you feel about me legally adopting you?” he asked.

He said he had been thinking about it for a while, but started to consider it more seriously when his niece got married. I, as a stepdaughter, had not been invited to the wedding. He hadn’t realized that some people, including some in his own family, didn’t think of me as his daughter. That was all the motivation he needed to formalize the decision he’d made long ago: that I was his daughter.

Two months later my husband and I brought home our daughter, Ava. Since becoming parents, we often find ourselves wondering what type of person she’ll grow into. Although we know Ava won’t look like us, I firmly believe she will have many of our traits, just as I’ve picked up several from my stepdad. And someday, when my daughter is older, I will share my birth certificate with her, and the fact that we were both adopted in the same year.