Foster Care.. where my story begins

One topic that I find that is not spoken about much, or hardly at all is about those of us that grew up in the Foster Care system. Foster care is something that people rarely talk about once the child grows up. We all hear about the children entering the system, yet, not about what happens afterwards. What these children carry into their adulthood. The relationships, fears, self-doubt, masking, and survival habits that follow them long after their time in the system, and well into their adult life.

My parents had me at a young age, my mother was 17, my father was 21 (I think I was conceived on his 21st birthday). They got married and then when I was about 18 months old, my father came back from work as a truck driver, to find my mother in bed with another man. This man would later become my first step father, and the biggest driving force as to why I was put in the system. After my mothers infidelity was discovered, my father took me and moved to his mothers place. 

When I was 3, my mother came to apparently take my shopping for a baptism dress, however, she ended up kidnapping me and moving to a different state. By the time I was 4, she had had another child with this man, who ended up being very violent, mainly due to undiagnosed mental health issues and attempted to end my life multiple times. It was here, where I was in kindergarten and my mother and a lady picked me up and placed me in my first foster home. It was one day I won't forget, as I remember when they put me in the car, the kinder assistant was standing at the door watching and not being able to do anything. 

I don't remember what month I was put into my first foster home, or much about it. I remember I had about two foster families before January of the following year. I remember a foster father teaching me how to play checkers and his wife not liking me. Their son ran over my fingers with a lawn mower, and to this day I still have a scar on one of my fingers. It was also when this happened that I remember a nurse telling me not to look at the needle because it would hurt more. I also remember at Christmas I put a hole in nearly all the presents as I wanted to see what everyone was getting. I learnt that if I was to fit in, I would have to change who I was and be what the family wanted me to be, like a chameleon fitting into their surroundings. 

In January that is when I moved to a foster family that would play a huge part in my life. Remember how I mentioned the Kinder Assistant, well, her and her husband got into foster care to take me in. I moved in with them and their family. Their 4 children were a lot older than myself, I mean, they were adults and I was 5 years old. I lived here for about 9 months when the state decided to put me back with my family. I moved to my grandmother’s, with her husband and youngest son, and with my great grandparents living on the same property. Within 18 months someone decided to take me for a holiday to see my mother and so I could spend some time with here. Well, she never gave me back and within a year or so, I was put back into the foster system, where I stayed in a Cottage home till they could place me with a family. 

I don't recall how long I was with this family, however I do have various memories. And, I remember the day that I got the call to say they had found me a family. My kinder assistant, who remained in contact with me over these 3 years, her family took me back in where I stayed till I was 15. It was at this time I was rebelling and my foster father had been diagnosed with cancer and my foster mother was diagnosed with her own health conditions. So looking after a rebellious 15 year old was too much and they put me back into the system. I was placed with another family however, after about 6 months, I ended up getting in contact with my father and ended up moving in with him, his wife and 3 kids. Let’s just say, when I was 16, I was living in a youth refuge.

My life was far from easy, from moving homes and having to fit in, to moving schools and attempting to make new friends, all while trying to deal with rejection, and all the negative thing that were going through my head. All while thinking, “if my parents cant love me, how can anyone else”, “what is wrong with me if my own parents didn't want me”. 

This is where my rebellious stage came from, more so with the first, to me it was simple, if my parents cant love me, then how can anyone else. So I pushed my foster parents till they felt like they had no other choice but to put me back into the foster system. Of course, to me that proved my theory right, they didn't love me. When in actual fact they had, they had chosen me and fought to keep me and have me move back with them when I as 8. 

Growing up in foster care was not easy, and to this day, I see the effects it has on me. From trouble making friends and keeping them, to my self doubt, that I have no one in my life I can turn too, and the decisions that I have made, like my ex husband who was abusive. But also the wanting to be loved and wanted. 

The biggest struggle that  I have faced is not having to be a chameleon, or mask.  I have found that throughout my life, till 2023, I was constantly changing who I was to fit in, so I could be accepted. I was drawing in all the wrong people, the people that would use me, abuse me and treat me like crap. 

By the end of 2022, beginning on 2023, I stopped masking, I stopped trying to change to fit in, I have learnt to be me. Doing this, I learnt a lot about myself, like I am 99% sure I have ADHD, and that I have some serious quirks. I am also very quiet around people and rather observe that interact, actually, I don't like being around people.

The one positive thing that has come out of this, is that everyday, my sons know that they are loved and wanted. I have tried my hardest to not let them go through what I have gone through, despite my own demon’s and childhood trauma’s, my kids are turning out to be well mannered, respectful young men.