1987 is my birth year, so know your history. My birth mother had some issues with substances, but do not judge the lady that gave birth to me. I have surpassed all of the expectations of a little girl born into the “system”. Foster care made me weak, foster care made me headstrong. My baby brother lost his life at eighteen before we could see each others face, just another causality of a separated family. I thank God for choosing me to be saved from the environment that I was born into. Can we not grasp that history repeat themselves? Patterns should be broken. I broke the cycle of teen pregnancy, and drug abuse for the little girl or boy that I may give birth to. I will not be perfect, but I will be coherent. Anger in my heart for her not being able to take care of us, but joy in my heart for God keeping her safe. It does not matter where you come from. Twenty-years ago, two little girls said a prayer, alone in their bedrooms while they should have been sleep. They wanted to be adopted into a beautiful home and experience real love. My sister lived the happiest times of her life after our adoptions, only to lose her life to muscular dystrophy at age thirteen. Her memory lives in me. I was given the gift of a beautiful mother, who still guides me with love and wisdom. I think of the past, but I think more of my future. The past hurts, but I must think of where I am going. Let’s go!