I Grew Up in Foster Care Feeling Alone

I Grew Up in Foster Care Feeling Alone …Then One Woman Returned With an Offer That Changed Everything

I was seven years old when my parents walked away from me.

I didn’t understand it then. I only remember sitting on a plastic chair in an office that smelled like old coffee, my feet dangling above the floor, staring at a door I kept hoping would open again. It never did. After that, life became a series of suitcases that never fully unpacked, names I learned too late, and houses that never felt like mine.

Foster care teaches you early how to be small. How not to ask for seconds. How to keep your feelings folded away, like clothes you’re not sure you’re allowed to wear. Some families were kind but distant. Others made it clear I was temporary. One foster dad liked to remind me, “Don’t get too comfortable. You won’t be here long.”

But one woman was different.

Her name was Margaret. She baked when she was sad and hummed when she was happy. The first night I stayed with her, she knelt in front of me and said, “You don’t have to be perfect here. Just be you.”

I didn’t know what to do with that kind of permission.