28 FACEBOOK.COM/BESTMAGAZINEI
was eight years old
when I first went
into care, and all
I remember is being
upset. I didn’t know why
my parents couldn’t take
care of me, but I didn’t
want to leave them.
My younger brother
and sister moved with me,
while my older siblings
went to stay with another
foster family, but I was
grateful some of us
stayed together.
Our foster mum was
lovely – she cuddled us all
the time, organised movie
nights and made us laugh. I
felt safe there. At school, I was
assigned a ‘play specialist’ for
extra support, to talk to me
about how I felt – a kind of
therapy to help me cope with
the change. No other kids at
school knew, but I’d get upsetwhen I heard my friends talk
about their families. Why
couldn’t I be with mine?
We saw our parents eight
times a year during supervised
visits, which I loved, but it was
always hard to say goodbye.
I knew they hated it, too.
But, after two years, a judge
finally decided Mum and Dad
could look after us all. I was
happy, but I knew I’d miss my
foster parents, too – they’d
been so kind to us.
Sadly, we only stayed with
our biological parents for 11
months before social workers
decided they weren’t fit to care
for us. My younger siblings
and I stayed together and
went back to the family we’d
been with previously, while
my older sisters moved in with
gay foster parents nearby.
I remember Mum and
Dad crying as they hugged usMy foster dads saved
my life
Elizabeth Smith*
didn’t have an
easy start to life
but now, with the
help of her two
incredible foster
fathers, she’s
achieving all
her dreams...
goodbye, saying they’d still
see us as much as possible.
I cried, too, wondering what
was going to happen to them
and to me this time. Yet,
somehow, we made it work.
I loved going to visit my
sisters. Gary and Colin, their
foster parents, had a fun
house full of animals and a
cinema room. They were so
thoughtful and kind – my
sisters raved about them.
My little brother and sister
were much younger than me
and, at 10 years old, I felt
I had more in common with
my big sisters. I wanted to go
shopping with them rather
than going to the park. It got
me thinking...
So, I asked my social
worker if I could move
in with Gary and Colin.
They said they’d love to
have me and, thankfully,the move was approved.
I haven’t looked back since.
Gary and Colin’s place was
a brilliant mix of chaotic fun
and structure – it was exactly
what I needed. They had dogs,
chickens, guinea pigs and
rabbits, and Colin had two
older daughters from his first
marriage who’d drop in for
big, noisy lunches. Gary would
cook amazing Spanish food,
while Colin always helped
us with our homework.
If I had a school project,
Colin would drop everything
to help me out. Gary
encouraged us kids to help
look after the animals and,
if I was ever down, I knew
I could talk to them. They’d
listen, reassure me and give
me a hug.
I didn’t tell any school
friends about my gay foster
dads, I just said I was livingElizabeth with Colin,
left, and Gary, right,
who took her into
their family and
changed her life