My name is Bobby and I am 12 years old. I was 8 years old when I went into foster care and I was 12 when I was adopted.

I’m about to tell you part of my life story.

It all started with my dad. I think someone must have hurt him when he was a little boy because he hurt me. I lived with him until age 8. During that time, my dad hit me and abused me. But I still loved him.

He would leave me home by myself when he went to the bars. When my dad would hurt me, I would pack up my little suitcase and tell him I was going to live with my mom. But I really didn’t know where my mom was.

My mom left me when I was really little. So I would hide under my bed and cry.

Sometimes my mom would come and visit me and my dad. I’d be mad at her when she came over because she wasn’t there for me all the time. My dad would hit her and call her names in front of me. It was scary to hear that. I would hide under my bed during those times too.

I remember my second grade teacher being very nice to me when I was living with my dad. She made me feel good about myself. I told my teacher that my dad was hurting me a lot.

I was glad someone believed me and that someone was going to help me. DCFS came to my school. When people tried to get my dad to come to the school to talk, he wouldn’t come because he was at a bar.

When I first went into foster care I was sad, lonely and mad. I was mad at my parents for leaving me. I had visits every week and would always be worried they wouldn’t show up. When I got worried, I got in trouble at home and school because I acted bad. One day my dad stopped coming to my visits. He never told me why.

My caseworker told me he didn’t go to treatment. I started to act just horrible. I was sad all the time. I didn’t understand why my dad stopped visiting me. He never told me goodbye.

Months later my dad signed surrenders. That meant to me that he didn’t want me anymore. I was told I couldn’t see him until I was 18. But I really didn’t understand.

One day I went to court and the Judge sat next to me and talked to me about it. I asked her if she could rip up the papers my dad signed and give my dad another chance. She told me no, and I cried a lot. I understood it a little better, but I was still very sad.

My mom then moved back to Illinois and started visiting me again. She had problems with drugs too. Then she moved away again so she could get better. But then I was alone again. I felt like everyone was leaving me. My grandfather died. My other relatives didn’t want me. I kept on moving to different foster homes.

I’ve lived in 7 different places and have gone to 9 different schools. In one of my first foster homes, I would go to bed with all of my clothes on. I was afraid the foster family would leave in the middle of the night. If they left, I thought I’d be all ready to go with them, and no one would leave me behind. I was afraid they might leave me all alone. No one has left me alone since I’ve been in foster care, but I was always worried that it still might happen again.

I used to think family was just a bunch of people who lived with you. Foster care taught me what a real family is and what love means. I still feel sad some days but I have lots more happy ones.

My mom who adopted me loves me very much and takes care of me. I’m the most important thing in her life. I know she won’t abandon me because she loves me very much. Now I feel like a regular kid.

I get to have birthday parties, which I never had before, and go on family vacations. I have good friends, pets, new grandparents and an aunt who are very nice and kind and love me very much. I like my school, Von Steuben, play on a soccer team, get to take music lessons, and go to church.

I now know that it wasn’t my fault I got taken away. I can trust people better and I know no one will ever leave me again. Alcohol and drugs messed up my parents’ lives. I’m not going to let drugs or my past destroy my life anymore.