How TPR Affected Me and My Life Going Forward

My Mom and I, 2015

My entire life revolved around my mom for as far back as I can remember. I can recall nightmares I had as young as four-years-old that all centered around losing my mom – this was my biggest fear for most of my childhood. When that nightmare became a reality, I was inconsolable and had only one thought, goal, and obsession going forward – doing whatever I could to be back with my mom. When the courts eventually decided to terminate my mom’s parental rights, to say that I was lost would be a gross understatement. 

My mom assured me every time we spoke that she was going to get me back. Sometimes I would start crying and ask her to promise me, I was so desperate. I would tell her “I promise I’ll be better.” I always thought I was a bad daughter. We argued a lot when I lived with her, and she often would tell people I was difficult. The reality of the situation, though, was that I was a little girl who needed her parents but was on her own. Of course I was going to act out and challenge her – children need attention, and when they feel that they’re not properly getting it, they do what they think they need to do to get it. That’s just children in general, but especially when you add abuse and neglect into the mix. When you’re a young child who’s being abused, you latch onto what is supposed to be your safety net – your parents. For me, it was specifically my mom. Even though we argued, we were still as close as two people could be. At least, that’s how I felt.

I had three half siblings who lived in Michigan, two sisters and a brother. I asked my mom once when I was in my third foster home who she thought her favorite was, if she had to pick. I don’t know why I asked this to be honest – I probably was feeling unimportant and just wanted reassurance. I didn’t get it though. She said “probably your sister.” I said “Oh, okay, I get that. She’s pretty great.” I dropped it afterwards. It hurt, though, and made me wonder “does she really want me back?” She told me she did, but I don’t know if she wanted it more than she wanted to do drugs. I know she loved me, but when it comes to addiction, it takes control and starts to make decisions for you without asking. I feel like this may have been one of those decisions. 

The judge gave my mom an extra six months more than what she was originally supposed to have to try to get me back. She needed to do drug tests, parenting classes, therapy, and prove income and a stable living situation. My social worker told me “I told your mom that even if she were to go to a homeless shelter, I’d let you go back with her. I’m not asking her to move mountains.” At the last court date, she didn’t show up, and they terminated her parental rights. 

Apparently, my mom was in jail at this time for possession of drugs. I moved to my fourth foster home while she was there, and when she got out she went back to the empty promises – “I promise I’m going to get you back, I’ll make it happen, don’t you worry! I’m going to get you back!” I remember being silent, staring at the carpet in my room. “No you’re not, mom.” I replied. “The last court date was the final one.” She continued on and on about how it didn’t matter, and how she was still going to make it happen. I felt tears swell up in my eyes, and I decided to break my own heart and tell the biggest lie I’ve ever told in my life. “Mom, I don’t want to go back with you.” Silence. “What?” She exclaimed. When I tried to speak again, she began sobbing. “You just ripped my heart out!” She said, “they’ve brainwashed you!” She continued to cry. My heart was shattered into the tiniest, sharpest little pieces of defeat and all I could do was feel the hole inside of me getting bigger and deeper, filling itself with more despair and heartache. I let her cry, vent, yell, and then we ended the call with the usual I love yous. It was one of the worst moments of my life, I can say that with full confidence to this very day.

Fast forward to adulthood. My mom was about to be homeless again when I was 19, and asked to move in with me. I was in such a hard position because it was like I was finally the one who had the power to make the decision to reunite myself and my mom. I remembered all the pain, though, and didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle that dynamic with my mom, having spent 7 years away from her at that point. I was different, but she was the same. So, I said no. It broke my heart because even after I didn’t get to go back with my mom when I was 14, every single day since then I still craved it more than anything in the world. Of course I wanted to “be back with my mom” when she asked me if we could live together. I really, desperately wanted my own life though. I just knew deep down that it wouldn’t have been a good situation. I still feel guilty to this day about saying no to her, though. 

My mom has lived in Michigan since then, for about 8 years now. I haven’t seen her in 3 years, and before that I had only been able to afford to go see her maybe once a year or every other year. I miss her every day, almost to the same extent that I missed her when I was in foster care. I have Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, and a Panic Disorder, and when I have a breakdown, a phrase that I’ve noticed I begin to cry out is always “I want my mom.” I’m 27-years-old. I don’t know when this feeling of wanting to be “back” with my mom will end, but I can tell you that even after 15 or so years, the pain of not being able to go back to my mom when I was younger is still at large within my heart. 

Ultimately, TPR did two big things for me – it permanently left a hole in my heart that I still have yet to heal from, and it gave me resilience and the opportunity to finally think about myself instead of obsessing over my mom as I aged into adulthood. At the end of the day, though I feel guilty admitting this, I know TPR was for the best and I appreciate the life I have today because of the judge’s decision. I was adopted at 16, and even though they kicked me out at 17, I was still able to be involved in so many things while living with this family, such as show choir, bible camps, etc. I loved school, my friends, all of it. Even when I was 18 and today at 27, I wouldn’t change anything that has happened to me or the decision the judge made, because who knows how things would have looked if I had gone back with my mom. I like to think it would have been rainbows and sunshine, but deep down, I know better.