By Heather

My best friend set me up with the topic of finding yourself and establishing who you are in a situation where you didn’t have your biological parents to help you identify with who you are and the process. This is going to be a bit personal to give you the rawest answer that I can while still trying not to offend specific people since other families and people are involved as well. I am going to offend so many people if they read this… At the end of the day, this is from my point of view and how I felt when growing up. Not many people actually know exactly how I felt back then or even now about many things.

For those who don’t know me personally, I will give you a back story. I grew up in foster care. Along with some of my siblings, I was taken from my biological mother when I was extremely young. We lived in a group home for almost a full year. One of my cousin’s went to the class to get her license to become a foster parent. We moved in with her family. There were three adult men, two children were males, and one adult female. I stayed there for roughly four and a half years before moving to another home. While I was there, I learned how to cook, clean, and care for new born children. That sounds all good except for the fact that I was around the age of 4 when I moved in with them; caring after people over three times my age back then was not healthy. I was not allowed to do anything except chores while I watched all the guys have fun. The excuse back then (which followed me) was that I was a female. Looking at the situation now, I was a child. I understand cleaning after myself, but I should’ve been allowed to play and have fun.

So fast forward to moving in with this older couple. Of course your first impression when meeting someone is usually good, but the longer I stayed there, the longer I wanted to leave. I was miserable. I felt alone. I was bullied a lot at school because I developed faster than other kids my age. The sad thing was I wanted to go to school to get out of the house. I hated being in that house with a passion. I was eventually allowed to join the cheerleading team when I was in middle school, but without the help of the coach I would’ve gotten kicked off the team. It got to the point where they didn’t want to pick me up from practice or take me to games. My coach took on that responsibility to help me. Cheerleading was my home. It was the one thing that took me away from all my problems. It was where my real family was. Cheerleading was one of the only things I was allowed to do. While my brother was allowed to go to school parties and places with his friends, I wasn’t. I stayed home and cleaned. At this point I enjoyed cooking a little more. I taught myself to make a good amount of food and expanded from what I learned from living with my cousins. I was able to go to one of their niece’s house and her other niece’s hair salon. Be mindful that they were a lot older than me. (I loved them though so it use to make me happy.) I will say one thing I hated was that for whatever reason, the wife felt the need to throw my past in my face to make me feel like shit. I learned a lot of things about my biological parents this way. I use to hide in my room and just cry. I didn’t want to be alive a lot of times. I’m in middle school thinking about taking my own life. I was miserable, and I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Yea foster care made me go to therapy, but that was a joke. If anything, it made me hate therapists.

I stayed there for another four to four and a half years before having to leave again. I’m choosing not to mention the reason why we moved only because it involves someone I love and I don’t think he would want me to share that. This is about me at the end of the day.

We moved in with my mom. I love her with all my heart. She is one of the main people I look up to. At this point I was a teenager, so I had a lot more freedom. I made mistakes but what teenagers don’t? Even though I was a lot happier living with my mom, I was still depressed. I still felt alone. I still was scared to talk to anyone about how I felt. I still didn’t want to live at times. I still cried to myself. There were things that has happened to me as a teenager, and even before that to cause me to have so many insecurities about myself.

Now, that you have an idea about my background… I don’t think I can give advice on how to find yourself and how to establish yourself in a situation where you don’t have your biological parents to help you find out who you are. I still don’t know who I am myself. And now that I am finding myself writing about it, it breaks my heart to admit it. I question God all the time about why I am on this earth. What was his purpose for making me? I still cry. And while I am crying, I ask him why am I here. I ask him why I have to go through the things that I go through. Why do I have to feel so empty and like no one understands where I come from? Why do I feel like everyone is always against me? Why do I keep being told in many different ways that I am going to fail? I question my life all the time. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m constantly trying to please everyone. I constantly try and make everyone else happy, but when am I going to be genuinely happy? When does Heather matter?

How can I have an opinion on something when I don’t have no idea or clue of who I am? I think not having my biological parents is why I am so lost, but I also feel like if they were still in my life I would be dead or on the streets strung out.

There is no right answer to this, but I honestly cannot bring myself to even form an opinion about this. I wouldn’t know what to say…

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