When I adopted five siblings from foster care, I went from being a teacher to being a mom of kids who had already lived entire lifetimes before they came home. I knew love would be central, but I quickly realized that love alone didn’t erase trauma—or my own insecurities. I often questioned my role. I wasn’t their first mom, and I wasn’t sure if I ever could be. Walking through Walmart and having strangers ask, “Where are their real parents?” only deepened that ache. I’m a white woman raising Black children, and the way the world sees us doesn’t always match the way we feel like a family. In those early days, I didn’t have a roadmap. I struggled with depression and anxiety, and with the weight of parenting kids from hard places while carrying questions I didn’t know how to answer. But I sought support, learned the power of trauma-informed care, and became a TBRI Practitioner. Today, I work in advocacy and get to speak, train, and walk with others navigating this space.