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Breaking the cycle
At nine years old my sisters and I were taken away from our mother and placed into foster care for the fourth and final time. When the police showed up at our house and told us to pack what we could into our trash bags, this was not new. We knew the drill and the dreadful feeling that came with leaving what we were used to. I think the two of them were just as comfortable in the chaos as I was. We were comfortable with stealing dinner from the corner grocery store to eat and rummaging through the neighborhood dumpsters when we wore holes in our shoes. We knew…
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Mirror, mirror, on the wall
“Meet me at the park in twenty minutes.” My heart skipped every single time he would text this to me. The thrill of sneaking out of my office, meeting up with him, and disappearing to our secret spot to participate in my very favorite nonsexual physical activity, making out, was always a welcome surprise. It always had to be on his terms, because, well he was a busy man. Both with his respectable career and with his longtime girlfriend. So, when he could get a few free minutes in his day I happily obliged in filling that time. (I know, I know… trust me, there is nothing that you could…
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The Beauty In Rock Bottom
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800-273-8255
“There is some allergy medicine in the bathroom cabinet, you can take one.” My new foster mother, Deanna, told me as I sneezed seventeen times in a row. Wiping my nose on the sleeve of my shirt I walked into the front bathroom that I shared with both of my sisters, Deanna’s biological daughter, and two other foster children that lived in the home. I was the newest foster child here. My sisters had lived here for a while but I was recently sent back from an adoptive placement that didn’t quite work out after I was sat down and told that I’d never see my sisters again because they…
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The Beauty In Rock Bottom
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The Beauty In Rock Bottom
“I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!” “I FUCKING HATE YOU, FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. WITH EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE. I SWEAR TO YOU, I FUCKING HAAAAAATE YOU!!” I yelled through gritted teeth and salty tears, slinging my arms around with balled fists in a dramatic display of hatred. All of the words, that up until this point, had been unsaid. All the tears left uncried. All the emotions that I had not allowed my heart to feel…OH I felt them now. It was as if someone had finally lifted the lid off of a pressure cooker. All of it. Years of it. What felt like lifetimes of pain, bubbling up…