16 years old being taken from my mom.
”what did I do mom?”
moving from place to place.
asking my caseworker if I’ll ever be happy again,
never getting an answer.
some places I would have to stay at,
I would get my life ripped from me.
even times where,
they would hurt me.
but every caseworker I ever had,
if I told them I would be told,
”you’re just looking for attention.”
but I wasn’t.
when I turned 18 they couldn’t find me a placement.
so they told me
we are probably gonna leave you,
to live on the streets.
that terrified me thinking, am I that horrible?
I decided I would go get a job.
if they won’t help me, I’ll help myself.
but right as I got a job
my caseworker told me I’m apparently
not allowed to get a job.
I told them I understood but kept the job behind their backs.
eventually they found a place for me.
so I packed my one bag together and went with them there.
right from the start I had my guard up.
I went to independent living apartments so I was stuck with workers still.
at least I have my own little apartment.
continuing to push myself in work and school.
learning to count on myself instead of others for help.
starting in my free time writing.
reflecting on what has all happened.
”I still don’t understand why I was treated like this.”
”this is why I wanna be a caseworker”
”show kids more respect and what kindness feels like”
now 19 years old starting college late September
moved into an adult foster home with lovely folks who I consider family.
starting to experience what happiness and love actually feels like.
loving myself for who I am.
knowing nobody needs to change for others.