Meet Addy

I have always been a burden. A burden on my family, my friends, “the system,” as they say. I’m the forgotten. The person who falls through the cracks. A few months back, they found me on the streets. I was looking for a place to nap because I had been up all night, feeling unsafe and this person walks up to me and starts talking about having a home for me.

I was scared, overwhelmed. I was excited too though. It had been a rough night and the thought of getting some rest somewhere warm sure was nice. I thought they were just offering me a shelter bed for a little while, and that the cycle would repeat again. They said it was going to be an apartment in a brand new building and it was all for me. That doesn’t sound possible for someone like me though, does it? Someone, who’s been in and out of every shelter in the region. Someone who’s been treated like dirt for all her life. It couldn’t be true. I have long accepted that I simply wasn’t meant to have a home.

So I didn’t believe them at all when they kept talking about having a “home” for me. My life has been a series of disappointments. It didn’t sound like this one was going to be any different. I’ve given up on hope a long time ago.

And yet, my friend… my life has changed since that day on the streets in a way lives only change in the movies. And that is because of donors like you. I still can’t quite believe it, but against all odds, it wasn’t some cruel joke, it wasn’t another letdown. I have my own apartment! With my own kitchen, my own bathroom… I mean, it wasn’t easy at first. I kept waiting for someone to kick me out again. And it’s so quiet in here. When you sleep in the streets, it’s never quiet. Those first few nights, I slept on the floor. I was just too overwhelmed. I tested them a little, too, to see if they would just give up on me. But they didn’t. They still haven’t. Josie, my Intensive Case Worker, checks in with me and we talk, and my anxiety gets a little bit better every day. It’s been three months now since I’ve moved in, and it’s starting to feel real and right.

I have a home! I love saying those four words. They feel foreign, but they feel right. In the mornings, when the sunlight comes pouring into my room, and my head is resting on a soft pillow, I still sometimes have to pinch myself. I don’t know how I deserve this, or even IF I deserve this at all. But I am glad that I am safe. I am glad that I am home. I am glad that I’ve been found.