The last few post have been heavy but in the big pictures it was such a small part of my life. There have been many more good experiences than bad, and definitely a lot of good people around me. In losing the relationship with my mother it sent my life on a completely different path, one that I am grateful for. Once I was apprehended and put into foster care I was surrounded by a lot of really amazing people who helped me along the way. Even while I still lived with my mother it wasn’t all bad, she was pretty good to me until the day she had to choose between me and him. Some of my family will tell stories of how she would constantly give me Tylenol to make me sleep and that she used to hit me a lot when I was little but I don’t remember any of that. It was my step father that was bad.
The day I was apprehended I was taken to a group home. I remember driving up to the colonial style house with its bright green lawn. I don’t remember what color the house is but I do remember that all the windows and the main entrance were framed in white. The main floor had a large living room, kitchen, and a dining room with a table that could seat at least 12 people. There was also a large staircase that went to the second floor. I can’t remember for sure but I think there were 4 bedrooms, each with two beds, two dressers, and two night stands. There was also the master bedroom where the overnight supervisor would sleep. This group home was run by a husband and wife, I can’t remember his name but hers was Tammy. They had both worked as social workers and could see the need for housing and decided to open a group home. I was in this house for about 4 months and it was good.
Next stop was Prince Rupert to live with my aunt who is my mother’s older sister. I had only met her once before but she was already a foster parent and so the move was approved because it is policy to try and keep kids with family if you can. I lived with her for about a year and she was my biggest advocate. While I was there I started to see a counselor and her name was Joan. This meeting was pivotal for me because this woman ended up being a huge part of my life. It was then decided that it would be better for me to move to Taylor for the start of my grade six school year. This is mainly because my dad’s family lived there and it was believed that being surrounded by family would give me extra love and support. So I was sent to live with my other aunt, my mother’s younger sister.
I don’t think I made it a week. I was defiant, and didn’t want to listen and she wanted me to do the dishes. I remember sitting on the bed looking at an Archie comic when she came in and she yelled at me for not helping out. I didn’t look up, so she grabbed the book and threw it on the floor, so I picked up another book and she threw it on the floor. “I can’t do this”, she yelled and walked down the hallway. Next thing I know I am sitting in a car with the lady who would become my mom.
It’s a crazy story really. My mother left my father when I was 3. She ran away with another man, got married and had my two little sisters. My new mom was that mans ex wife. Now read that again.
When she came to get me from my aunts that night, I was worried. I knew exactly who she was and my mother ruined her marriage. My mother stole her husband. So there I am sitting in the car across from her quiet and nervous. And she says “what’s wrong with you”. And I said something like, I know my mother took you husband. She laughed loudly and said “The best thing that ever happened to me was when that son of a bitch left.” In that moment I knew I was going to be just fine there.
She was a foster parent already and so moving in with her was approved instantly. She had a son and five daughters who became my sisters and brother and she became my mom. Until this blog came about I never talked about my real mother. Anyone who knows me knows that if I am talking about my mom, I talking about this woman. I am not talking about bonny. I do not call bonny my mom/mother anywhere other than this blog and that is simply for clarity.
One thing I learned from living in that house was that as much as I went through some stuff some people go through a lot more. There was the odd little boy that would come to stay but it was mostly girls. Some of these girls were little and suffered unbelievable abuse. It made what I went through look like nothing. My foster mom won foster parent of the year in BC once because she is just that amazing and helped so many kids. I was very lucky to end up there.
I was always safe, I was always loved, and I was always called on my shit. The sisters are not all fluffy. If they have something to say they will. And as teenagers I think it was a little rough at times but seriously put 4 to 6 teenage girls into a house and see how well that goes. I remember that last attempt at trying to kill myself it was made very clear to me by one sister in particular that I was super stupid. And if I did something like that again and lived she would kill me herself next time. Now I know that sounds harsh, and this method would be looked down upon now but inside I was ecstatic because she cared about me. One time I was getting bullied at school and when one of my sisters found out she called the bully and suggested she stop. And she did stop instantly. It was like all of a sudden I had this back up team and I loved it.
I have learned along the way that I get to choose my family, some are blood but most are not. I have also learned that I can love someone and not have a relationship with them, that I don’t have to make it work because we are family or because we have known each other for a long time. With this I am basically surrounded by a group of amazing friends and family that I am grateful for every single day.
