My Life Journey Part 3 by Scarlet Jay*

This is part 3 of Scarlet Jay's* story, you can find the other parts at the bottom of the blog.

Welcome back to another blog! If you are new here then welcome, but if you have been following this blog closely then you would know that in this section, we have been covering what it’s like to be a foster kid.

Lately I’ve been talking about how hard it is to be a foster child but I’ve come to realise I’ve probably been sounding a bit negative. You see, although being a foster kid may come with a few negatives, behind the negative, come along the positives. There are a million foster kids that have changed from who they were to who they are now, all because of their foster carer.

When we are in a place of negativity we often forget the positives. You see when I first became a foster child, I was getting D’s and E’s in school because, one I hated it there, and two I was being badly bullied. However, my foster carer noticed my bad grades and how my mental health was being affected by the bullying, so we decided to move to a new school. In the end, I came out of high school achieving A’s and B’s and all of this was because my foster carer took the time and effort to help me study and learn, and she did all this because she cared.

And that's what makes a healthy placement, a foster carer that cares for the foster kids that have been placed there, and shows them what true love looks like and what it feels like to be loved. Life’s not all bad.

Think of it this way, it’s better to be in a loving and nurturing placement, than being in a negative or unhealthy environment.

My story, part 3.

Hate. That’s the only feeling I could feel. There is no room for any positive emotion anymore. I couldn’t be happy, not truly, not fully. Of Course I put on a fake smile for my siblings, I had to. They thought this was it, this was going to be their happy life, here with our aunt and uncle. But how could it be happy, we were living with almost complete strangers who think they know who we are and how we feel.

The first few weeks were overwhelming. They gave the kids everything, they gave me everything. If the kids wanted something they would get it, it was a shock to them, as before I couldn’t give them everything, how could I, I was a 11 year old girl who had to tend for her siblings. The kids were well behaved, of course they would be, they were getting everything they wanted.

Until that famous word appeared. The word “No” started to appear, and it started to appear a lot. But that's not all, rules were suddenly put in place, they came out of nowhere, they weren’t put in place at the start, nothing was. And they weren’t even simple rules. Nothing was simple anymore.

With these new changes came the change of behaviour. Screaming, shouting, crying. Every other day when the kids couldn't get what they wanted, they had been treated like spoilt brats. So they became one. Our aunt and uncle soon realised what they were like, and when they did, well lets just say i went back to being the parent.

Our aunty locked herself in her room crying because she didn’t know how to discipline the children, but if the kids wanted something she would shout at them when they entered the bedroom or told them to go away and watch tv. Our uncle kept going to work overtime, he was never home and when he was home, he slept or did his own thing.

Everything changed back to how it was, me, being the adult again. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle them, no one could. Only me, a small 11 year old girl who had to learn at a very early age how to be an adult. It wasn’t fair, not for me and not for them, I was their older sister for god sake not their mother.

But yet again, I’ve found myself shouting at them, cooking for them, cleaning up after them. And it didn’t help that I was stuck in a small box room with them, 1 bunk bed and 1 single bed, a chest of draws and a flimsy wardrobe shared between us all.

And that was just the beginning.

All this had happened over the summer, but the summer didn’t last forever. Before I knew it, the 6th of September was here and I was sat in the car being driven to school. My stomach ached, my head spun. I wasn’t ready, how could I be. I left the car as quick as I could, no goodbye, no hug. I couldn’t face my aunt, all puffy eyed from crying so much, I couldn’t face the questions, I couldn’t face her with the anger I felt.

I've never walked so fast in my life, I don't know why, you’d think I’d walk slowly so I’d be late, but then when your late you still have everyone's eyes on you anyways. I felt nauseous, my head ached. My hands ached, I looked down and I saw that they were formed into fists, I needed to control myself, I couldn’t show emotions, showing emotions means showing people I'm weak. and I can’t have that. I pushed open the double door that led into the main corridor and froze, my breath caught in my throat, all eyes were on me and my heartbeat quickened. They all know...

Could you welcome a young person like Scarlet Jay* into your home? 

Speak to us about fostering

* Name changed to protect the identity of the young person.