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- Story Listed as: True Life For Teens
- Theme: Survival / Success
- Subject: Childhood / Youth
- Published: 07/02/2023
My Journey
Born 2005, F, from Easton Pa, United StatesI was taken from my family at the age of 15 due to severe abuse that lasted for 8 years. I had already attempted to take my own life 4 times prior, and the day I was taken I overdosed on my medication. Luckily it wasn't enough to kill me. I came to this wonderful place that was like a group home. I was really quiet, and they often struggled to get me to say more than three or four words at a time. They found out that I liked Legos and asked me where mine were. They were shocked to find out that all I came with was a weeks' worth of clothes, my comfort blanket, and my school stuff. They found a box of Legos for me to entertain myself with. When dinner time came, they found me hiding under my bed wrapped in my comfort blanket. They told me to grab my mask (COVID-19 was still a thing then) and come to dinner. I proceeded to ask them, "We get food here?". The look on the staffs' faces when they heard that showed that they knew I wasn't being fed at home. They asked when the last time I ate was, and I told them it had been at least two days. They then said, "We will never starve you, you're safe here". At first I didn't trust them, as every time I was taken from home, I was always sent back. What I didn't know was that my parents would never be able to hurt me again.
You see, the state took custody of me, meaning they had all parental rights and authorities over me, meaning they wouldn't send me home if I told them that I didn't want to go back.
It took me several months to open up to them, and I was scared that if I mentioned the abuse, my parents would abuse me like they did before. Again, the home reassured me that my parents would never hurt me again, and that I was safe now. About 3 months later, they got me to open up to them, and I slowly became my happy self again. They gave me an outside resource, that they called a mentor, and to this day we still hang out with each other, every Thursday for more than two years. The home had shown me how to love myself again, and that I was safe. They made sure I knew that they cared about me, and they reminded me of that every day. They still do, more than two years later.
And this doesn't mean that I was entirely perfect, or that I didn't have bad days. I made many mistakes, and I did get into some trouble while I was there. I had mess ups of self-harming three times. But unlike other placements I had been to, instead of punishing me for my mess ups, they helped me develop a plan to get through rough days, and never bashed me for having flaws.
When I had been here for a little more than 1 year, they decided that I should begin the process to get into the independent living program on campus. I started the process, and I even got my first job in September of 2022. I was having issues in my unit, and they put me in the independent living building for a temporary break. They then noticed that I was doing much better, and that I was happier. I followed the program rules, and listened to everything that they told me to do. I had written a letter to get into the program just like every other resident that came had to, and they loved it. I had court on November 30th, 2022, and when I returned, I was greeted with the words "Welcome to the older youth program" by the president of the group home herself. I was elated. I had come so far, and my hard work was recognized. I went and got my phone that day. I followed my program. I still have bad days, but my two workers are always there for me and are some of my biggest cheerleaders. Two of my friends and some of the other older youth residents came to see me walk at my graduation. My current caseworker, her boss (and the director of the older youth program), and my former older youth caseworker all showed up.
And I did something they never saw coming.
In sign language, I signed, "Thank you for coming. You all mean a lot to me". After that, with the help of one of my teachers, I signed their names, one by one, and signed I love you after each name. At the end, I signed "The Children's Home of Easton is my family, and I love you all." I had to improvise, as some of those words weren't actual sign language words. But they didn't even realize what I was doing until a week later. When I told them, one of my friends started crying and my caseworker said, "I didn't know you knew sign language, but unfortunately I don't". My caseworker's boss was kind of amazed as I told her.
All this to say that family is not necessarily blood relationships, but family is the group of people who stick by you unconditionally. The amount of times I have cried to these people and instead of them telling me to suck it up, they listened, gave me advice, and were always there for me, is amazing.
I want to thank them for all that they did for me, and what they continue to do.
I love you all so much!
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