Saturday, May 8, 2021

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Leaving Home Part 10

Two weeks pass in a blink of an eye. I am now standing out in a hallway at Child and Family Court in Albany, New York. My parents are at one end of the hall, and I’m standing alone by myself at the other end. Donna and the lawyer have gone in search of the women’s bathroom.

My mother looks at me, her eyes all red from crying. It might be for real, but I’ve seen this before. She looks in my direction and shakes her head; her pain has come to the surface. I am not moved, but I wonder why she is playing this card. It is clear that she needs to look like a mother who has done everything, and look where it has gotten her.

Donna and the lawyer hurry back, Donna’s heels clicking on the marble floor. Seeing where I am standing, the lawyer takes my arm and pulls me out of the view of my mother. We enter the courtroom. The judge is a large man who stares down at me; his glasses sit at the end of his nose. He looks at me and smiles. “How are you doing today?” he asks. “Fine,” I answer, afraid to look at him, in fear that I will be sent to jail. Donna has explained to me a million times that this is a hearing so I can move into a group home. I need to be declared an Emancipated Minor in order to be granted custody of myself.

The whole hearing takes about twenty minutes. Through sobs and tears, my mom explains that she has done her best, but that I am a menace and turning her house into an emotional shambles. We both decide it is better that I don’t return. The judge shakes his head as my mother finishes. I’m sure that he has seen many an emotional parent standing in front of him and can tell what is really going on.

It has always seemed weird to me that I was adopted because they “wanted” me, and now I am being “thrown away” because it is not working out their way. So many things happened in that house and under that roof. I remember that one night when I came home, my mother sat me down to wait for my father to get home. When he did arrive they told me that they thought I was gay. 
It was going to be their job to take me to therapy to “fix me.” This led to oh, so many fights. Once, on the way to meet the therapist, I even jumped out of my father’s moving car and ran into the woods.


Standing in front of the judge got me to wondering where I would be going now. My life as I knew it would be changing. After the hearing Donna took me and the lawyer out for ice cream. I didn’t even watch my parents walk out of the courtroom.



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