Thankfulness

I am 27 years old. I have been alive for 26 Thanksgiving's, going on my 27th. I can remember certain years were Thanksgiving was just another day in my household. My parents were poor. My parents were drug addicts. My parents could not provide for our daily needs. I remember a few good times with my parents, but the truth of the matter is they were few and far in between.

We lived in a motel on Union Ave, across the street was a gas station, Texaco at the time. The owners and workers knew me and my siblings very well. They felt bad for us, a few times I had gone in to their store and taken a gallon of milk, and a loaf of bread, without paying for it. I was caught by the owner once, and instead of calling the cops, or yelling at me, or condeming me for what I was doing, he gave me some cereal and snacks on top of what I had. I was overwhelmingly thankful to him, not because I didn't get in to trouble, but because this would allow me to feed my siblings for atleast a few days. Since that day, he would set out different things on the back step of his store for me or my siblings to come by and get and take home, somteimes the food would be expired or going stale but we didn't care food was food to us at the time, and we were grateful for anything we could get.  I will never forget that man at that gas station, he saved  us in a way, he provided for our needs on days when we didn't know when or how we were going to eat. I actually went back to that gas station when I was about 21 years old, and it was not a Texaco anymore, but the same owner was still there. He recognized me instantly and I thanked him profusely for what he had done for me and my siblings so many years ago. His face will for ever be etched into my mind and heart. Thankfulness.

I remember a certain Thanksgiving when I was about seven years old. We had a lady in our life that we called Aunt Wanda. Often times we would run away from our parents home to her home. It was quiet a treck from our motel to her house. We would cross over a railroad track, walk through a vacant field, walk along a canal, and her house was next door to a church we would go to sometimes when we were at her house. Any who, Aunt wanda had a little yellow car and this particular Thanksgiving she had come to our motel to pick us up and take us to her house for dinner. We all climbed in (nine of us at the time) and went to her house. I will never forget the overwhelming smell of food when I walked into her house, it had been a few days since I had eaten much.  When I went into the kitchen, there was so much food I didn't know what to do. We sat down that afternoon, and we feasted. We told jokes and laughed and loved the day away, and I will never forget Thanksgiving at Aunt Wanda's. Last year during Thanksgiving I heard Aunt Wanda wasn't doing so well health wise, so I boxed up a couple of to-go boxes of my own Thanksgiving feast at my house, and I delivered it to her motel room where she was staying, and despite her health, she still got up and made a thanksgiving meal for her family, because that is what Aunt Wanda does.  Thankfulness

I got into the foster care system at the age of eight. When I was about ten I was living in a home with my twin sister, and the family we were living with had their own set of twin girls. I remember this family very well. They taught me about God. They taught me how to ride a horse. They taught me how to figure skate, but most of all they taught me what the love of a family really felt like, even if it was only for a short time. I remember Thanksgiving that year living in their home. Lisa had gone out and bought all of us girls matching outfits of different colors, she spent time doing our hair up nice and pretty, big bows and all. I remember going with them to their various family members homes, and not feeling awkward or out of place. Sometimes, growing up in foster care is really hard, you don't feel loved, or wanted, and often times you feel like an outsider. But here at Lisa's it was different, her entire family welcomed us with open arms. I had a temporary grandma, and cousins, and aunts, and uncles. It was something I will never forget nor ever take for granted. That was the first time I ever had that.  Thankfulness

I have a twin sister. I can't begin to explain how thankful I am that God hand picked my very best friend, the other half to my whole. My twin sister and I went through everything together. Every foster home, almost every school, friends, boyfriends it didn't matter. She knows more about me than I know myself. Having a twin is something that is really hard to explain. When she hurts I hurt, when she is happy I'm happy, I feel her pain on a deep level. When she gave birth to my nephew I had sympathy pain, and I felt something the minute he was earth side. There is no one I am closer to than her, my wombmate. I will always cherish the relationship we have with each other, and I will never take for granted the fact that God deemed us worthy of this special unbreakable bond. I see myself when I look at her. I love her more than I love myself. The bond twins share is such a bond that if you are not a twin you would not understand, or be able to feel what we feel on the same level. What a gift. Thankfulness

When I was about twelve years old, I was seeing a Dr. for sexual abuse trauma. He had an assistant working there, an angel by the name of Annette Lyday. From the very first time I met her I knew there was something special about her, we had an instant connection. One I don't ever remember having with anyone else before. I fell in love with her, EVERY time I went to my Dr.s appointments the doctor had to almost literally pry me out of her office. I felt such a connection to her that at night I prayed and dreamed that she was my mother. I know kind of wierd but it's the truth, and that is how much she had an impact on me. When I stopped going to that Dr when I was about fourteen or fifteen, I lost contact with her. She was never too far out of my mind though. Well a few years later, I was living with a new foster family, and my second week at their church, I ran in to this angel again. Oh I was so happy to have her back in my life. It was as if no time had gone by at all. Today she is known as my Auntie Annette. If ever I was to look back on my life and think of the one person who has impacted my life the most it would be her. She has taught me so much in all the years that I have known her. She has taught me the love of a mother, a love I have never experienced but one I have desperately wanted. She has encouraged and pushed me to succeed far more than I ever would have thought possible. She shows me what unconditional, unfaltering love is, and I am truly blessed to have her in my life. She has taught me what true strength and beauty are, and how they come from the inside and shine out. She is a light in my life. She has won battles, some others don't know about. She has fought and won her battle with breast cancer, a true warrior she is. I will forever be changed by her, and by the love and grace, and kindness she has showed me. I wouldn't be the woman I am today without her teachings. I love you Auntie Annette. Thank you. Thankfulness

Sometimes you have a friend and that friend eventually turns in to family. I have one of those. Her name is Angie. I honestly would be completely lost without my best friend beside me. She knows everything there is to know about me, and she gets me. She has seen me at my best and seen me at my worst. Through love and lost, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. She has seen me win so many battles, and has pushed me to overcome so much of my life trials and tribulations. She has given me words of wisdom, of encouragement, times of trouble when I don't think I can go on, she is there to hold my hand, wipe my tears, and pick me back up off the ground. I love how she loves. I am so grateful to have someone to call my best friend. We have known eachother since seventh grade, but in the last six years or so our friendship has really blossomed into something to be jelous of. Everyone should have a best friend like Angie in their lives. But, you can't have mine! I love you Angie so very much, and you have had such a great impact on my life and who I am today. Thankfulness

When I was twenty two years old, I found myself completely lost. My heart was lost, my soul was lost, and my mind was lost. I felt completely empty and unimportant. Why would God let me go through everything that I had gone through and why did my life have to be so hard all the time. Little did I know he was preparing a table of so much more before me, as I was struggling to keep afloat. I was living with my biological dad at the time, (and it was not the ideal situation at all.) I knew that if I didn't change my living sitaution I was going to end up either dead, on drugs, or something to that degree. My dad's girlfriend Dawn was going to a church down the street from where we lived. A little church on S. Chester Ave close to Ming Ave. She invited me to go to church with her, at first I was very hesitant. I hadn't been to church in probably about three or four years. I had some pretty bad experiences with churches and I was put off by them. But, I decided to take her up on her offer. I will never ever ever regret that decision, as long as I live. It was one of the best decisons I have ever made in my life, such a decision that it was life changing for me. I have now been coming to this church for almost five years, and they have been the most rewarding, hardest, vulnerable, strengthening five years of my life. I have gained so much more in the short amount of time that I have been coming here then I ever did my entire life. I not only found a church that loves God, and loves People but I found the family I had always wanted and had been looking for. To feel loved, and welcomed and encouraged by my church family is really an understatement. Each and every person here at CACC has made an impact on my life in their own way, and I am forever blessed and changed by them. I am currently the Secetary of the church, and this has allowed me to continue my schooling full-time. I never would have gone back to school if it weren't for my Pastor's encourageing, and supporting, and guiding me along the way to continue and finish my education. What a true gift it is for someone to believe in you, and to see that you are full of so much more potential than you yourself see. What a valueable treasure this church has become. Thankfulness

Being Thankful, and I mean really truly whole heartedly thankful is a blessing. I know the struggles, I've survived the unimaginable. I am thankful for each and every experience I have had. It has made me value my life, and the things I have, and the people I have. I don't take anything for granted because I know what it is like to have nothing, to be a nobody, and to feel empty. 

Thankfulness.

                                             Be Blessed,

                                                  Rebecca Martin 

The Life I was Dealt.

Growing up, I never really cared about my looks, or ANYTHING. You see all I knew then was, what I was use to. Eating out of dumpsters, living under a railroad track (at one point) and scavengering for food or my next meal or partial meal. I wore clothes that were either too small or too big for me. I don't remember ever owning a brush, or even a tooth brush, those just were not important. I grew up in a sort of survival mode. Taking care of myself, and my younger siblings. Mom and dad, didn't and couldn't the drugs, sex, and alcohol got the best of them. 

Going into the foster care system at eight years old, I weighed about 40 pounds, I was mal nourished, dirty, covered in lice. The firt few years in the system were pretty crucial. I ended up developing a very bad eating habit, due to the lack of food growing up, and the inconsistency of my home life, and not knowing when my next meal would be. I became a food hoarder, not only that I would gorge myself until I made myself sick. My reasonging was because I honestly didn't know if there would be a next meal so I better eat all that I can get now. I would hide food in my room, at a lot of my foster homes, sometimes getting up in the middle of the night to eat it, just in case there wasn't going to be breakfast. It got better as the years passed by, I was able to break the habits to an extent. But, as time wore on, I noticed patterns developing, that I seemed to not be able to control. If I was upset, scared, nervous, depressed I ATE. My coping mechanism was to eat. Food never let me down. In elementary It wasn't so bad to be the odd ball, the "foster child" the child who didn't fit in or belong, or the new kid at school. It was my normal, something I had grown accustomed to. That is what happens when you bounce from home to home, and end up spending your elementary years at 13 different schools. Making friends? that was hard, I made a few, but mostly aquaintences. Once I got close to someone, it was time to move on to a new home and a new school, so I built a shell. I was at school to learn all that I could, not to make friends, besides, everyone already had their groups of friends, no room for new people. No room for the girl with the clothes from good will, and the old sneakers she wore last year. My weight started to be a problem for me when I was in Jr. High. I knew I wasn't "fat" but I also wasn't the skinny cheerleader type. My body was awkward, while most girls were just developing breasts, I had already had them for years. While some girls were just getting their periods, mine had come at the age of nine. I had been sexually abused at a very young age, and growing up as a sexual abuse victim, I often times turned the other way when a boy was walking towards me. I didn't really take interest in boys until late into my high school years, because I had no self esteem what so ever. I hated my entire being, everything about me, so who in their right mind would even look at this in a postive or loving or attractive way. This mind set stuck with me well in to high school. I shyed away from big groups of guys. Fast forward to graduating high achool and starting my life as an adult. I was out on my own by the time I graduated high school. No real family, no one to really teach me the ends and outs of living on my own, money wise, food wise, home essentials. All the good things most kids/ teens take for grantite being able to do, being taught from the time they were little so that when they do grow up and move out on their own they are PREPARED. I mean don't get me wrong, I knew some of the basics, I knew how to cook some things, I knew how to do my own laundry, I knew how to clean, I knew some things. I didn't know how to balance a check book, or anything about credit cards, or money management or budgeting, or buying my first car, or getting a job (which I did right away) or what I would do when somene broke in to my home (which happened when I was 19, and in my VERY first apartment.) I didn't know how scary it would be to live alone, how frightening every little noise was, how terriefied I was that something bad would happen to me, and how convinced I was that if it did, no one would even care or notice.  Imagine going from being surrounded by people your entire life, from foster home to foster home, to being by yourself for the first time in your life. Pretty intimidating, I didn't have a mom or dads house to run to or a grandma and grandpa's house to run to when things weren't going right or when I felt home sick. I felt home sick all the time but home sick for what? Which home? Who? I spent many years just skating through life, doing the necessity to survive.  By the time I was about 26, I knew things needed to change. This was NOT going to be my life. I was NOT going to just live in the shadows of this world, I was not going to just let life slip through my clutched fists. I needed to take a stand not only against the world but against myself. I need to change my mindset, and how I viewed myself. I needed to stop hating the person looking back at me in the mirror. If I didn't learn to love me how could I possibly think someone else could. So that is what I did.

Always, 
Becka 

My Story from the beginning...

On June 11, 1988 Two twin girls were born. Weighing in at a whopping 2 lbs 4 ounces and 2 lbs 3 ounces. A couple of months early, but from the beginning they were survivors, they were fighters. Little did they know this was not going to be the biggest fight of their life. My name is Rebecca, I was the first born twin of the two. My twin sister is Pauline. We have one older brother who is thirteen months older then us his name is Joshua

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        Rebecca @ about 2 years old

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                                                          Pauline @ about 2 years old

We were born in California, but soon after our birth our family moved to Arkansas. We lived there until we were about four years old. In the process we welcomed a brother to the family, he was thirteen months younger then us, his name is Daniel. During the four years we lived in Arkansa, we were put in the foster care system from the age of 2-4.   We moved to Bakersfield, California right before our fifth birthday.

My parents, if you can call them that were not meant to be parents. They were abusive to us children; mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually abusive. The were also drug addicts and alcoholics. I remember a lot from my childhood. I remember, a few good times with my family, but mostly I remember the bad and the ugly. I remember the times we had nowhere to sleep at night, I remember the times we had to sleep in the tunnel under the rail road tracks. I remember the times we had to scrounge the garbage cans for food. It was hard but you know what, it is the very thing that made me strong and made me who I am today.

By 1997, I was seven going on eight years old, and there was now nine of us children. Joshua being the oldest, then Me, Pauline, Daniel, Billy, Samuel, Noah, Joseph, and Jessie. In September of 1997, the county came in and took all of us children away from our parents and placed us in the Foster Care system.

                                                 Rebecca & Pauline at about 8 years old

I remember the first night we spent in Jamison Center, formally known as the Shalimar Center. They took all nine of us there in various vehicles including cop cars. When we entered the building they had us all together in a little room, and I remember sitting there and watching one by one as they took each and everyone of my brothers out of there. Because they were so young they were not allowed to spend the night at the center. I remember them coming and taking my sister and I into the back where all the other children were housed, my older brother Joshua and my younger brother Daniel were there and we were reunited. Little did we know this would be our last night together for many many years to come. The boys left to separate foster homes the next day, and all that was left there was me and Pauline. We were terrified, we were sad, and we were lost. We were there for a little over a month before we were placed in our first foster home. It didn't last long and for the next two years we were bounced around fourteen different times. By 2000 we no longer had contact with any of our siblings or our parents. Most of my brothers had been adopted in the first year or so that we were placed in the system. By the age of ten we were placed in a long term foster home, We stayed there for six years, it was good in the beginning but we soon found out that it was going to be one of the worst places we had ever been. (More about that in a future blog) We moved around a few more times before we turned eighteen and then eventually graduated high school. It took us eleven years to get into contact with our older brother and it seemed that it was a battle for the next few years to find the rest, to this day there are still two out there that we have not found. By the way my mother gave birth to her tenth child a little boy in June of 2000. That makes a total of ten of us. All from the same mother and father. 

So that is just a little of my story, I didn't go into great detail because i'm not blogging this for sympathy I'm blogging this because I am a survivor and a fighter and I have seen, done, and been through the unthinkable, and I have come out on top. I want to be an inspiration, an encouragement and a person of motivation for someone who may have or is going through something similar to what I've gone through. If I reach one person, and change at least one person, then I know that there is a reason I am writing this.

Last but not least, I know in my heart and soul that I would not be where I am today if it weren't for my amazing and faithful God, watching, guiding, loving, and supporting me through this journey called life.

Jeremiah 29:11- For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.