Yesterday a woman asked about bras and it made me cry

Yesterday, as the New England Patriots were pretty much destroying the Chargers, I drifted into Facebook land and mindlessly began scrolling through my news feed. Profile pic comparisons. Memes. Food. Babies. More memes. More profile pic comparisons.

Then I read this:

“Anyone else have teen girls? My fd14 (fd=foster daughter) really needs a few new bras. While doing the laundry I seen hers were in bad shape. She's only been with us a few weeks. I asked her what size she wore and she had no idea. All the bras she has range from b to dd. She's never been sized for one or how one properly fits. How do I get a correct size for her ? I've heard good and bad reviews from Victoria's secret. I don't know how to approach this ?

Thanks from a struggling new teen Mom”

I was immediately touched so deeply by what this foster mom was trying to do for her foster daughter. And, what followed this woman’s post, inspired me even more. Dozens of women chimed in; each of them sharing a tip, a website, a store that would provide a good fitting. Some were funny. Every one of them was encouraging. This mama got what she needed and then some. Nearly 100 supportive responses rallying around her and her teen.

I loved every second of it. It even made me cry a bit.

Because growing up is tough. Growing up a girl is really tough. And growing up a girl in foster care, well, I can’t even imagine how tough that must be. So much about your body, and your mind, is changing. It’s hard to explain and even harder to understand when you’re going through it. On top of that you are not home, you are not surrounded by what is familiar. You may be separated from your siblings and school friends. And what usually helps is having someone close to you to guide you, to talk you through some of the awkwardness and answer those questions that you’re sort of embarrassed to ask.

I have two daughters of my own; both beginning the path towards womanhood, and we’ve talked, pretty openly, about all of it. It’s been awkward at times, but we’ve powered (and giggled) through it. I’ve been so relieved knowing we have each other at a time that can be so confusing and uncomfortable and even a little scary.

My heart aches for the young girls who are going through this time in their life without a person like this woman. A woman who cared so much about getting this right that she was brave enough to admit she didn’t know the answer and needed help. She didn’t share her daughter’s name. She was discreet and sincere.

I want this for every girl. I want each of them to know that there is a fiercely protective and incredibly knowledgeable and genuine team of warrior women out there who would love to help them navigate the waters of growing up a girl.

I hope more people like this awesome foster mama feel brave enough to ask these kinds of questions. I hope they all get their answers.

And, I hope that every girl in foster care that could use One Simple Wish to help ease them into whatever transition they are facing, knows that they can count on us - anytime. We’ll be sending this foster mama and her teen on a shopping & lunch date. We hope it helps them bond and mark an important moment in their relationship.

If you know of a teen in foster care that could use One Simple Wish, please contact me ANYTIME.

Here’s to the village it takes to raise a child. I’m so proud and honored to be part of it.

-D

Photo Credit: Photo by Brad Lloyd on Unsplash

A Girl No One Would Adopt

Originally published July 10, 2014

She is 15 years old and she’s angry. Her nose is self-pierced; her hair is pink and black and very long and ratty. She curses too much and she has very little respect for authority. Her legs are covered in thin lines, some scars and some fresh, jagged cuts made from a razor blade.

She cares way more about her abusive boyfriend than her schoolwork and she’s very close to failing out. She is on three different medications to treat depression. She has tried to commit suicide twice already. Currently, she lives in a treatment facility with other kids who have all but given up on themselves.

I didn’t meet this young girl touring the country meeting children who are waiting to be adopted. I’ve known her all my life. This little girl was me in 1993.

Fast forward 21 years and I am a proud wife of nearly 10 years, a doting mom of 2 beautiful 6 year-old girls and I run a fast-growing, million-dollar nonprofit. I’ve been featured on NBC Nightly News, Katie Couric and I was a 2013 Top 10 CNN Hero. (Anderson Cooper even told me he was a fan!) I’ve given a talk at TEDx and I’ve traveled more than 20,000 miles granting wishes to thousands of kids in foster care. People from all over the world write to me to tell me that my work, my life, inspires them to do more, to do better.

But I am still medicated — down from three to one. I still suffer daily from bouts of anxiety and occasionally deep depression. Sometimes I turn to alcohol to get through a tough day. When times are really hard I still have to remind myself that cutting my legs is not going to solve anything. But still, I am thriving. I am successful, smart, fulfilled and helpful.

So how come no one gave up on me all those years ago? How did I get here?

This summer as I’m traveling all over this beautiful and diverse country of ours, I am meeting kids who are a lot like me. They are scared, they are a little lost and they are unsure of who they are or why things have happened to them. They don’t know how to process their rage or their insecurities. They don’t trust people.

But unlike me they don’t have a loving mother who sits up with them throughout the night when the pain is unbearable and unexplainable, a mother who will just hold them while they cry and tell them the pain will go away. They don’t have parents vetting countless doctors and pushing back on excessive medications or treatments that aren’t making things better.

Instead they have a file. These children are labeled; identified by disorders that would scare anyone, especially someone looking to bring a child into their home. They are fire starters and sexually inappropriate and chronically depressed and hyperactive. They are profiles on paper or computer screens.

What if that had been me? What if I hadn’t had a mother and a father who told me daily that I was beautiful and bigger than my illness? What if I hadn’t had my sisters to laugh with every day and to grow up with and look up to and to mentor? No one gave up on me then and they still haven’t.

The children I am meeting are so much more than you can read about in a therapist or caseworker’s report. They are more than what has happened to them in the past. They are more than their behaviors and their illnesses and their diagnoses. They can be the next mothers, fathers, business owners, doctors, teachers, scholars and soldiers. These children are me...they are just waiting for their someone to believe in them enough to support them and advocate for them and most importantly, they need someone they can trust won’t ever give up on them.

No person is easily explained. No photo or bio can tell you who someone really is. So I want to challenge all of you who have decided that children in foster care are “broken” or “needy” or “too much to handle” to look beyond what you can read on our website or any other adoption or foster care website.

Get to know a foster child. Look into becoming a foster parent. Look into becoming a Court Appointed Special Advocate. Look into adopting.

Imagine how much progress the children could make if we gave each of them the voice, the shoulder and the hope that I had. Love is a powerful thing. It heals, it empowers and it truly saves. And I know there are plenty of you reading this that have lots of extra love to share.