I'm not desirable in many people's eyes. Messed up kid. Trust issues. Oh, don't go near her- she might attack you. Very unpredictable. I wasn't always this way.
But then life dealt me a couple of bad cards so now I wear this cloak. Call it ignorance or hostility. Call it whatever you like. I wear this cloak not out of choice. I'm not ashamed of it. But they are ashamed of me.
You see, I'm a foster kid. Wow, big deal. Just don't break out the tissues. I'm lent to families until they don't want me. So basically, I'm like a library book. A tatty, old library book. They use, abuse and mark me- then they give me back.
And I move on.
Never have I been loved. My own parents didn't love me, so why should anyone else? They brought me into this world like a puppet- then they cut my strings. Snip, snip. Here's your book back.
Then, cracks appear in my exterior. Am I wanted? Am I deserving of love? These questions swirl around my mind daily, like a tsunami. No-one sees it. Or they choose not to.
They just see a hardened girl, ungrateful and rude to all the 'kindness they've showed me. I'm not ashamed, but no-one wants me.
... (This was a fictional story.) I've read many books and seen many movies about foster children. Did you know that in 2016, 687,000 children in the US spent time in a foster home? 687,000.
It's said that only 1 in 333 children are abused or maltreated. That figure means physically abused or neglected. I don't know about you, but I don't believe that's true.
Because neglect goes on behind closed doors. It runs deeper than scars on a body. What about scars on the mind? Don't they count too?
Children deserve to be loved and they should. Let's be ore caring to those who need it. So once again, spread the message. Thanks. That's Iqra.............. OUT.