My boring story in Foster Care

I know what you might think “ugh foster kids, trouble trouble trouble!” I swear I am normal.. well I’m not really sure..

I was taken out of my home on January 16, 2010 I was just 14 years old. Christmas was still fresh on me since I have just come back from Canada. My mom had sent me there to spend christmas with my aunt’s family. My father’s oldest sister. I had just started 9th grade and I sensed something was going to go terribly wrong. And it happened. ( I wont get into the reason why I was removed). My caseworker picked me up from basketball practice, brough me home and told me “grab a lot of clothes and put it in your bag”. I was taken back, I didnt know what was going on. I just did what I was told. That day it snowed at lot, the day was dark. The air brushed my skin for one second, disappeared and then did it again. My mom was in the kitchen when I was packing my stuff. I asked my caseworker where I was going and she told me “I’m taking you to another home because you told me your mom was not going to feed you”. I then realized the mistake I made. I told myself “stupid why did you say that”. My mother didnt let me starve she always fed me, she had dinner for me when I came from practice. But she had gotten upset the previous day and she said that I wont eat. I didnt think it was a big deal to be honest, because I know she would fed me anyways. I left the house and a couple of minutes later I arrived in a foster home. I was just a mile way from my mothers house and in the same town. I was very glad I was close. I cant explain how scared I felt. I was ripped from my mother, everything I knew. Here I am walking into a home, people I did not know. I did not know if they were good or bad, I didnt know anything. My heart sank, I remenber being so scared, my whole life changed in a matter of seconds. I never forget how I felt that night. It was a Puerto Rican couple, they had three biological kids and an African American girl, who was adopted. She was around four. There was two foster kids, a 19 year old girl with down syndrome and a three year old with Austism. And me. The husband grabbed my bag and then after a couple of minutes came the mother. I did not like them when I saw them. I had the ugliest look on my face when I was introdued. My caseworker looked around and just like me she was studying the place. I think she cared for me a lot, I sensed it. She told me call me if anything goes wrong, I’ll be back tommorow”. Mora, the foster mom took me to my room. There were two bunk beds. I hated it. I wanted to leave that place. The carpet was black like everything else in my life, the room was dark. I did not sleep that night. I was too disturbed. I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat. I just wanted to leave and go to back to my mom. I felt like a fish out of the sea.

The next day, a man came to speak to me. I asked him “how long would it be until I go back to my mom”. Everybody was trying to make it sound less harsh than what it was supposed to be. They all told me “a few days, maybe months” and this man said to me “it may takes months to probably years for you to go back”. My heart sank even more. Looking back I appreciated his honesty. My foster mother started to control me a lot. She controlled what I wore, ,my bras, my panties. She gave me used clothes and put away some of the clothes I had and I never saw it again. I couldnt wear shorts, I couldnt wear belts, I couldnt wear the bras I liked. On top of the fact that I did not have control of my life, she tried to control the little things that I could control. Like what I wore, something so small. It drove me nutss. She placed a lot of her emotional baggage on me. She stressed me out telling me her problems and she always wanted to talk. It was to much for me. I was always asked to share what I was feeling. It bothered me because I wanted to keep things to myself. She told me stuff about my case that I was not supposed to know and worried me even more. I remenber she once told me “your mom does not love you, otherwise you would be with her”. I though maybe she was right but now that I am older I realised that is the worse thing you could ever tell a 14 year old. I was accused of trying to incinuate myself to her husband and her son. She robbed the life out of me, she suffocated me. That life suffocated me. I thought I liked her but she was so bad. Very negative, selfish women. I cant say I hate her, but I dont ever want to be near her. She would complain about me to the caseworker. That used to hurt me because she would tell me that we were okay and I was not aware of what I was doing wrong. One day in particular, I sitting in the couch. Me, Mora, and her daughter. Me and her daughter who was at the time 19, was about to fight me and all she did was laugh her hold her back. Her daughter told me “ your mom doesnt love you, awee your gonna cry” and Mora giggled and said “Jen, dont say that” but laugh while saying it. I cried so much. They sued to treat the foster kids like trash. I couldnt stanf it. It was because of us you eat. I often starred out the window and wondered about my life. I always wispered to myself that I will be okay. She saved the money she recieved to get surgery. She got liposuction, breast aumentation all very expensive stuff. I then realised that certain foster parents take in kids for the money. She looked the same to me after surgery so I didnt care. I felt like a pinguien living with sharks. I was constantly arguing with them. I couldnt take living there. I lived there for two years. Now at the age of 20 I often have nightmares about that place. In my dreams I wake up in that bunk bed and I scream. I touch the walls and look around to see where I am and its that room. I cry out “no no I cant believe I still live here”. I pinch myself to convince my self that its a dream and that I am not there anymore. I wake up and see that Im free and its a relieve. I find myself waking up crying.

I ran away twice because I hared it there. I had a therapist for two years. I was really depressed and at one point I wanted to disappear from this world. I thouht why am I not loved? Back then I didnt see the trouble this would cause me, but now its in my face. Loneliness haunts me hard every other day. But I know I’ll be okay, and that everything will be fine. I arrived at another home in 2012. I have been lucky throughout all of this. I found a great single foster mother. She helped out so much, she let me make decesiions on my own, she didnt keep the money for herself. She still opens her home to me. I been so lucky! I never want to touch feet in that first foster home. But I can truly say I am blessed.

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