Adam’s Story Part 1: ‘I’m sorry, you’re not going home today…’

Adam, now in his early twenties, was fostered when he was 14. He has shared his story to help people understand the experience of young people who are fostered and to help challenge the stigma that they can face.  

Read Part 1 of Adam's three-part story..


‘Will you come into my office?’

Those hallowed words that terrified me the most when I was around Ms Smith. She was a giant of a women. She must have stood 8ft tall, without high heels of course. My friends and I believed she hunted hobbits in her spare time because she caused fear in the mind of every child. Even more so to me. Therefore, being invited into the dragon’s layer was not something I wanted to do, even now I would run away.

I reluctantly and hesitantly and cautiously and tentatively dragged my legs into her den of detention; her class of confinement; her office of misery and despair. I stood in a militaristic fashion – those six months in the cadets paid off after all. I stood: head high, shoulders straight, legs locked, knees weak and slight tremble.

She said the most shocking phrase.  A phrase unheard in the halls of this high school. A phrase even some of my friends still do not believe. Words that still shock me today. However, this phrase would echo throughout my life:

‘My dear.’  She pulled the seat out and asked me to sit down.

I was confused, why was the dragon doing this, treating me like a pet? Was it part of her evil plan? I realise how ridiculous that thought process was. Nonetheless she continued with these ‘strange’ phrases: “Are you comfy?”, “Do you need a drink? How are you feeling?”  I was confused, where was the giant, the dragon, the incarcerator?

I had heard these phrases in in children’s stories. I never believed the stories. They were only a creation of Hollywood. I was fantastically wrong. Someone cared about me. Just like the BFG, in the Roald Dahl book, Ms Smith was blowing dreams into my mind. Dreams of someone looking after me. Even if it was this terrifying women. This giant was friendly and caring and gentle and loving and thoughtful and considerate and interested. Interested in me.

She bought my lunch, from the school canteen, and even bought me a little cake – empire biscuit (my favourite). I was beginning to like the dragon.

I now realise and understand her actions. She wanted to ease my mind, and not worry me about the news she had for me. The bad news. The really bad news. The horrible, terrible news!  Or was it?

It was the best news of my life!

‘I’m sorry, but you’re not going to go home today, you’re going to go stay with different people.’

Where was I going? Who would look after me? How would they look after me? I had a numbness to situation, no thinking, no concern, nothing really.

This was going to change my life. I just had no idea how much. I did not speak; I did not move. I did not think. Ms Smith knew this was going to be difficult for me. She wanted me to return to class. To take my mind off this ‘horrible’ day. I do not remember much after being told I was not going back ‘home’. I have never figured out why I forgot. I only recognise being in a state of shock and anxiety.

I spent the entire day in her lair, reading and doing lots of school work. I needed to take my mind of what had happened. Ms Smith asked me simple questions like: what were my hobbies, what did I do at home, favourite holidays. but these simple questions could not be answered. I had no answer I had no hobbies. I had no life.

I still contemplate how I lived. Surviving and living are very different and I don’t think I lived. It was hard, having no potential to achieve, nothing to show-off for 14 years of life and no one to pick you up when you felt down. We all take our lives for granted, however I underestimate my life, it was an extremely difficult life but it got easier.  A lot easier. I was about to take the road less travelled.

The road was the escape from no-man’s land. I had lived in the trenches all my life. A constant bullet of hurt. I was used and abused. Uncared and unloved. It was manipulating me like a pawn on a chess board. If the knight captured me then they were not concerned. I now care about how appalling these people were as a family. They were meant to provide love and care.

Foster care was going to change my entire being. The shy, timid, scared, talentless boy was to become a confident, happy, out-going individual (with an amazing sense of humour!).

[Some names have been changed to protect privacy.]

Read Part 2 of Adam’s story:  ‘What family means to me’