It all started on a seemingly ordinary day when George, my husband with a suspiciously strong interest in genetic mysteries, decided it was time to decode my DNA. Last year, he had taken a test himself, hoping, perhaps, to discover that he had royal blood or at least a famous relative. It wasn’t to be, but instead he became addicted to genealogy and rare genes.

So one morning, he shows up with a smile that foreshadows something dubious and says, “I got you a DNA test. I want to know what genetic secrets you’re hiding.” 😮

I blinked twice. I didn’t know whether to laugh or run away. But curiosity got the better of me.

No sooner said than done. I spat into a tube (with more grace than the process would suggest), sent it to the lab, and began the wait. Three months later, I received an email with the subject line: “Your results are ready.” My heart was pounding. What would I find out? What if I found out I had a gene that made me dance badly but with confidence?

And then… surprise! It turns out I carry a combination of genes from corners of the world I never dreamed of. A little bit of the Balkans—meaning passion, drama, and the ability to cook something delicious out of nothing, a teaspoon of Central and Eastern Europe—complete with homesickness and a practical mind and an amazing ability to adapt, a slice of German Europe—German organization, an obsession with rules, but without the obsession for beer, a dash of Ashkenazi Jew – intelligent humor and a memory that remembers everything, including what you said in 2014, and a touch of Southern Italy and the Eastern Mediterranean – vivid emotions, a genuine joy of living, and an aesthetic sense that leaps at the sound of a mandolin or the smell of a well-cooked meal.

Basically, I’m an international genetic mix – like a travel app that got stuck between continents.

George looked at the results, nodded and said, “That explains why you cook like a Balkan grandmother, have lines like an Eastern European novel and live your stories like a character in an Italian film – without waving your hands, but with all your heart.”

Then he started Googling whether “predisposition to sarcasm” is an inherited trait. 😀

And the most “glorious” part? It turns out I’ve been equipped with a set of traits that qualify me for a low-rated genetic reality show: lactose intolerance (thanks, Ashkenazi heritage—cheese is a fond memory), an optimism that makes me believe that “today is going to be a productive day,” and a mysterious gene that makes me fall asleep within three minutes if I start a movie after 8 p.m.

But the good part? I like to wake up early. So while others are dragging themselves to coffee, I’m already on my second cup of tea, with my to-do list started and an energy that disappears, admittedly, right when the evening movie starts.

So, if you’re thinking about testing your DNA, here’s one piece of advice: prepare yourself for revelations. Some will make you laugh, others will leave you with your eyebrows raised, but they are all 100% yours—complete with unexpected genetic inheritance and explanations for seemingly inexplicable habits.

And if you have a husband, wife, or friend like my Georges, who pushes you into such experiments… keep him/her. Or, at worst, excuse him/her when he/she turns you into a pedigreed lab rat with PDF results.