An authentic story about how change is the only constant thing about foster care. A raw perspective from an aged-out foster youth.
The Hard Road of a Child in Transition
Some of my earliest memories included hating school, playing with my two older sisters and falling in love with the horses we owned. My world changed when I was removed from my birth family. I bounced around in foster care until age 6 when I moved to North Carolina. A family there adopted my middle sister, Emma, and me.
My first impressions of this new family was that I had hit the jackpot of kind, caring folks. If I showed you the elaborate photo album my adoptive mom made, you might even be jealous. But I can tell you the sad reality for each of those fake photos. The smiles in the photos may have been real for a moment, but I learned to make the most of things when I could. Trying to be positive gave me a bit more control over my life. That hasn’t changed much, but my story’s constant theme is change.
At the end of 8th grade, the truth came out when my sister was kicked out of their home. She stood up for herself and shared about the abuse that was taking place. Being rescued out of that situation was a good thing, but then being dumped in a group home with my sister hit a new level of cruel. We only had to endure the complete loss of freedom for that summer. But the emotional scars of that season still haunt me.
My Teens Years Started with More Uncertainty
Thankfully, a single foster mom, Amber, stepped up to take a chance on both of us teens. We were now living in a house full of pets, fun outings, and a loving home. My previous adoptive mother passed away from cancer in the year after we moved in with Amber. It’s so hard to explain how confusing and painful it was to walk through that season of grief. I still have the little white Christmas tree she gave me. Love and grief are not always easy and straightforward in foster care. I lost a piece of my soul that never had the chance to be redeemed with her. It’s really hard to sit with the truth sometimes that she is actually gone. And those waves of grief are driven by the tension of pain and yet some relief that I am free to find real unconditional love.
My time at Amber’s was full of fun and making normal memories, so many little moments that make life meaningful. I knew I was cared for and thankful for all that she put up with having her first go at motherhood being two teen girls. If it wasn’t for the brokenness in the foster care system, I would probably still be living with her.
It’s a constant in foster care for things to change quickly and without much say. Not sure why the earth can’t stop spinning for just a moment to be still. It’s in the stability that we grow deep and then blossom. Without warning I was leaving Amber’s and separated from my sister for the first time in our lives, and into the home of another stranger. The only cause of my constant change was the fact that I was a teenager in foster care. There is not anything wrong with me. What is wrong, is a broken system that needs redemption too.
Never-Ending Change
A few more moves later and I found myself alone in another group home. My sister turned 18 and aged out of foster care, so I was on my own. My anxiety became the worst it’s ever been and the mounting fears of never leaving the group home left me hopeless. Anything felt like it would be better than having no freedom. It was like a punishment for not belonging. Even so, I was a good student, with decent behavior and loads of fun to offer a family. It felt like my social worker had abandoned me, just as most folks who made appearances in my story so far.
After months in the group home, a family stepped up that originally seemed to have good intentions. They did rescue me from that awful group home, so for that I am grateful. But as I moved in with them and started the process of adoption, it was clear that they did not have my best interest at heart. I felt even more alone and invisible to the biological children they obviously loved more. It was heartbreaking to see yet another season of my life pass where I didn’t feel home.
A previous foster parent whom I had for only a month the year before, rushed to purchase a home just so I could move in with her. She made space in her life so I could feel loved and wanted. She is only 10 years older than me but somehow I just knew I would be safe with her. Our adoption will soon be complete and the only moves I will make from now on are toward my dreams. While it’s still hard at times to embrace the idea that I am safe and wanted, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath. I now know that even while the earth keeps spinning my feet won’t be pulled out from underneath me again. I feel hope growing deep and that equally scares and inspires me.
Where am I now?
My 2020 consisted of training my own service dog. I named her Bella Rose and together we are creating the life I always wanted. I am a freshman in college and pursuing my dream of being a dog trainer to help others have access to the aid of a service dog. Living with C-PTSD is rough, and social anxiety is the worst, but I love the independence my service dog allows me. We make a great team! And that’s what I hope others will have too. The freedom to go create a beautiful life despite the hard things.
Good support is key! I am so thankful for Bella Rose, my sister, new adoptive mom and all the wonderful people around me who are encouraging me along this journey.
My hope is for you to find yourself in a life you love. You first have to learn how to love yourself and embrace everything that has lead you to this moment. You can do it, dogs help!
Letter from Inspiring Hope to you:
Dear Friend,
Your story broke my heart hearing it again. You coming alive despite the hardships and constant change in your life is astounding! I am so proud of where you are going in life. The joy you are choosing to walk in while you wait to get there is inspiring. I know it’s not always easy, so I am so thankful for the support you have.
I truly pray our community out there reading this is finding love for themselves like you mentioned. Walking that out can be so tricky and hard coming from such adversity, change and unknowns. Sofia Bush, an actress, said in an interview, “You are allowed to be a masterpiece and a work in progress”. We are all works of progress with mounds of hard stuff to work through. It makes us no less of a masterpiece! I am thankful for stories like yours, even though I wish it was different. You not only survived all of this, but now you are wanting to build a life giving other’s a chance of support through having a service dog too! Wish you the absolute best in your freshman year and beyond!
This collective is in partnership with the social enterprise hopeandvine.org; An employment and mentoring program for aged out young women in Wake Forrest, NC.
