From early childhood i was helped out by counselors, judges, and foster parents. I was strong but also weak. Strong in situations like letting go, weak in the fact that i was an abused child. This is no sob story; it’s the story of my life.
Being abused is tough, rough, and just is not right. Abuse can come in several different ways, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Why do people get abused? Why do the abusers abuse? These questions i have no answer for; one can only wonder. One day was the last day that i would ever be abused. Beaten with a table leg, i was trying to call for help, but i was five (too little to reach the phone on the wall). Someone stepped in, someone named Max. He was a nice guy, but too good for my mother. I was taken away, this time for good.
When i arrived at my new “home” i had nothing but what i was wearing. I walked through a gate and said “I am going to live here forever” and i still am there today. THe first dinner there was great;chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn, something wonderful to my eyes. I made my own food at the age of four and five. My abusive mother thought i could fend for myself, while she was getting drunk. I won’t deny it i had a rough childhood, but now i look back and i am thankful. I am thankful for my foster parents who took me in, not knowing what the situation was, but mostly i am thankful for them adopting me as their child. I grew up with a wonderful family, learned right from wrong, and grew stronger along the way.
I want to help people like they have helped me. I want to change people’s lives. So because my childhood was the way it was, it had made me who i am today; a strong-willed, determined person. I have hopes and dreams and i will make them happen just to prove to some kida that their rough childhood can change for the better. I believe that people deserve to be happy!
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