Story From A Former Foster Child

Story From A Former Foster Child

You ask, 'would you want you as mommy and why? YES! Speaking from the child's perspective..... because that's my mommy and she loves me! I believe you're arriving at certain conclusions predicated on her displayed frustration w/the morally decadent establishment. Worse yet are those believing they possess the intellectual faculty to decide who's fit or unfit. How dare you! God appointed unto the womb the heir of the estate... but this stinkin' society would rather make the determination instead. She's a whore, she's unemployed, she has fifty kids already, she had three boyfriends last week, she's at the bar again.... whatever. It sickens me that there exist those in this country believing in freedom for themselves but somehow find the excuse to regulate, manipulate, restrict, impede and impose upon another of equal status.
Unless one has been forced to endure the crippling effects of the foster system they have no room to speak. I've been through it... made a ward of the court at age three and forced into some eighteen different homes by the age of eighteen. Every one of those families were foster parents for one reason and one reason only...... MONEY! And yet they had the audacity to claim their love for me was far greater than the love of my own mother. What HOGWASH! From day one they begin the brainwashing... "your mother is a whore"... "your mamma's no good".... "your mom is trash"... "your momma doesn't work"... blah blah blah .... all done to create a prejudice against her... and it worked.
Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night every week to indoctrinate me with their perception of truth. How many times did I hear "spare the rod spoil the child"?..... as they beat, slapped, punched, kicked using belts, sticks, screwdriver's, hammers, an axe ..... literally sent to the hospital on three separate occasions because the beatings were so severe, but, ya know, "tell grandma you fell off of the swing." What explanation reasons the shredding of my sister's picture? My only attachment.... 'They're not your family --- WE ARE!!! A hair brush used against my legs until the blood ran down and pooled on the floor. My brother was put in a bathtub with running cold water and beaten with a bread pin until the thing finally broke....(lied in court and produced evidence of a brand new rolling pin) and I as his brother was forced to watch and listen to the beatings. I'm now 47 and beginning to feel the effects of this abuse as my right elbow has bothered me the entirety of my adult life. Deprived and denied meals to the point that at eighteen (when I finally got to leave) I weighed a whole whopping 130 pounds. My self confidence and self esteem wane and to this day ... never married, no children (NO WAY), never bought a home and a job affording a mere survivability until I die. Because of this system I regretted birth, life and family but instead begged for death, mercy and peace. And I might add, mission accomplished! I had an absolute hatred of all men, women, authority and most especially this thing you called 'God'.... teaching parents to assert authority by whatever violent means necessary. You think I want to bring a child into this world? Think again! (And below is a mother whose child has been ripped from her arms and you mock her.) She obviously is what I'm not just by the sheer desire to procreate and bring forth new fruit/seed/heirs. I feel for her!
The so-called parents administrate a particular perception of truth.... The old law was nailed to the cross, eternal torment in a lake of fire for noncompliance to their will and authority, a soul separate from the body, a child shall obey his mother and father and a myriad of other half baked concoctions as they forced me to memorize biblical passages. Problem ... it wasn't MY ( that's MY) mommy or daddy telling me to do whatever! From where in the blankety blank does the authority originate for these imposters to impose their will upon another's child? Commie freakin' morons... in my opinion! As a child what choice in resistance do I have against Satan the foster dad? Or the love of Venus? Get real!!!

Fortunately I had the opportunity to embrace my natural mother one year before she passed... but I'm the exception. And how sad that anyone would have to go through life distinguishing between natural and foster! The words alone leave a bitter taste.
Regards,

Ken
Permission given to post this story.
Thank you for your story Ken.