I used to weigh myself every day at a certain time of day. Then I would write down the number and measure my body fat. It wasn’t a healthy way to live.
My mother is a realist, and she’s had biological and adoptive children, and she said it’s no different: No matter what, they’re putting a stranger into your arms. You don’t know them yet.
I spent so many years just saying what I felt without thinking about the ramifications, without understanding that I have this opinion but not everyone might share that opinion and now they don’t like me because of it.
I always assume I look better than I actually do. I’ll feel pretty good about myself when I leave the house, then I’ll see a picture and think, ‘Crap, I had no idea that’s what I was looking like.’
Kids are a huge sacrifice; they change everything – but I’m ready to work for things of greater importance than going out to meet someone for dinner at 10 o’clock at night.
A lot of children don’t find forever homes because they’re on that special-needs list, even if it’s because of something as simple as her mother smoked cigarettes for a month, not knowing she was pregnant.
