Why I Write

Today’s word prompt: “Write”


Back when I was a little girl I was a scared little girl. I remember riding a school bus in a town I didn’t know to a school I didn’t know and I was all of five years old…in foster care and the world seemed so big. So scary. I didn’t understand the mean people around me. Even then I tried to hide my fear thinking if I showed I was afraid of this new place, this new world I was thrown into over night, that the fear would eat me up.

I got used to my new home on the farm. Collecting the chicken eggs and playing with all sorts of things a kid shouldn’t play with on the farm. I remember being yelled at a lot, even for things I never did. I just wanted someone to listen to my thoughts. I kept them bottled up. Years down the road, I’d find freedom in the mighty pen and write my thoughts down. I’d write and write. I wanted to write happy stories of happy “loved” kids…..happy little girls in happy places with happy mommies and daddies that loved her. I wrote the life I wanted so I could read it over and over again.

I was a daydreamer most of my childhood. I’d dream up entirely different worlds. Worlds so different than the one I lived in. Writing empowered me. I could write all the sad stuff out of my life.

In high school I wanted to write again, but this time I wanted to write my life story. I wanted the freedom to go to college and start my own life and write my own story and decide which way it would go. It would be happy.

I didn’t know I would end up residing in Flagstaff Arizona, getting a degree in Journalism, working for a TV station, and then trading it all in for full time motherhood….but I did. I still write, but its on here now, I “blog” here because I want my voice to be heard long after I’m dead. Maybe my kids will be able to pull up old posts and see who I am thru what I wrote. That I loved them beyond words and with every snap of the picture I took. That I wanted to give them everything I didn’t have. Every memory I didn’t have as a child that was happy, I wanted to make right for them. Memories of theme parks, camping trips, tickle fights and cuddling under warm blankets feeling safe in mommy or daddy’s arms. Writing is the only way I can live on in the thoughts of others…


Five Minute Friday Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

About Heather Jones

I'm a coffee addict wife, "work at home mom", mother to two boys, blogging about the latest life hacks, recipes, DIY Projects and crazy "momisodes".

Heartfully Heather


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Heather Jones

I'm a coffee addict wife, "work at home mom", mother to two boys, blogging about the latest life hacks, recipes, DIY Projects and crazy "momisodes".

4 thoughts on “Why I Write

  1. This post is so sweet. Years and years and years ago I used to think it was so wonderful for people to become foster parents or adopt because they must have such a loving, giving heart for kids. Now I’ve heard so many awful stories (some good, many not good) about one or the other & it breaks my heart. How anyone could ever want to do anything but nurture and love a child is far beyond me.

    I’m glad your story has a happy ending, and that your children know a much different life. The blog posts will be nice finds for them, I’m sure, but I’m also guessing they never ever wonder if you love them. 🙂

  2. Yeah Rosey, there are people, (I hope its very few) that foster kids for the huge tax break it gives them and less about helping a child out. My experience wasn’t the greatest. I do hope that 25 years later the foster care system has improved enough to equip those that want to foster kids with the emotional burdens kids carry with them. I do not think the foster parents I had back then had any clue or cared much about the emotional difficulties I was going thru or had the education to help me thru it psychologically. There was no counselling of kids back then. They were just driven somewhere and dropped off. It was scary.

What do you think?