The sun shines through the window, and as I write this, I find inspiration in the warmth of the beams coming from the celestial gathering above. Perhaps the energy flowing in me is a mistake, but moments like this reinforce my place in the universe, and I know I am here to tell my story.

I remember the first time I called a set of people "Mom" and "Dad". I remember the people after them, and I called them as such. I can tell you the different houses I have been in, and how much it hurt to walk out of those doors, especially when I didn't know where I was going next.The words 'mom' and 'dad' are more than just words.

When you can call somebody your mother or father, it implies an emotional connection, a bond that was created and a bond that should be cherished. Being a child, and calling more than five sets of parents mother and father - it is difficult. How is it that your mother or father can say, "I've had enough, they need to leave now" and they still expect to be honored with the title of "parent"?

You see, having been in numerous foster homes until I was almost ten years old proved that the people in my life during that time didn't deserve to be my mother and father. You don't leave your child in a house for multiple days and expect it to fend for itself.

You don't use violence in any manner towards a partner in front of your kids (or at all, for that matter), and especially not on the child. But the welts on my back I had growing up were a sign that some people seem to forget how to be human.

To be human means to be respected as a life. And the life of a baby, of an infant, of a toddler is no less than one of a ten, sixteen or twenty year old. You can't expect a seven-year-old child to know what to do when someone abandons them. You should not assume that a five-year-old knows how to scream when something isn't right.

There was no childhood. I was too busy trying to stay alive, trying to survive. But I am here telling you this story because I happened to escape.

More like I was rescued.

I was adopted when I was ten years old by two wonderful, fabulous souls who really cherished my life, sometimes I think more than their own. I don't think they signed up for the problems they encountered later on, but they took me in with open arms.

And I was too young to really be a child, and I was old enough to know I will never get those years back. But I learned to love the life I had, however long it took.

I grew up. I learned to love these people. I learned to trust. I learned to live. And all thanks to the people who proved that being a Mom and a Dad is much more than a title: their actions proved it.

I don't know about you, but when you've got those people who would stop the world and find you, to pick you up out of the downward spiral you've been in...keep them.

Tears are running down my face as I conclude this (rather long) piece...but these are tears of joy. The sun is still shining, and I am feeling the warmth of their love as I write this.

This is for you, Mom & Dad.