What I had missed out on was being displayed in front of me and it began to nag at the triggers of loss, sadness and grief.
We can choose to stay captive to what life throws at us, or take steps towards freedom.
Timeouts were there to remind me I was unlovable, to tell me I deserved rejection and prove that I was unwanted.
We need to talk about it: share your story, your questions, and your thoughts. Raise awareness. Spread knowledge. And maybe, just maybe, one day we can see a change.
My real parents are the ones who fed me a warm meal, who tucked me in at night, who brought me to dance class.
Somehow I was supposed to fit into this web of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents that had already been well woven.