Mornings like this make me want to run away and not come back.
I generally keep our difficulties as private as possible and only share with those guaranteed to understand and support me and to not judge me.
But today I am fed up of hiding the truths of our life, as though I’m a suffer of domestic abuse not ready yet to confront in the open what a partner is doing to me in private.
These are my daughters, I love them deeply, I would do anything to help them. But life with them is hard, beyond what you can imagine. To the onlooker they are perfect, polite, caring, loving and happy-go-lucky. In private I experience a different reality, one that daily crushes me till I’m dust, bruises me till I’m a dark shadow and beats me until I submit wholly to their will.
My girls, like many of their care-experienced friends, are a product of their past and their present. They did not cause this, and they don’t choose this to be their truth but it is. So I can’t blame them, I can’t say this is their fault because it isn’t.
There is no easy answer to any of this, other than to try to use the time when they are in school to decompress, to regulate myself and to prepare for their return to home which may well be, indeed is guaranteed to be, as stormy as their departure.
If you have a friend like me tell them you believe them and tell them today. Because it is a lonely journey we foster carers and adopters are on and not having to hide our truth is the most valuable thing you can give us.