Met as Care Leavers, Left as Family


Can you picture this for a moment? 

You’re standing alone, heart racing, on a stage in a foreign country, 5574km away from home. Around you, over 200 faces of strangers from across the world watching, waiting to hear your story. 

Who are you? Just one of many care leavers, with a life story too often overlooked. But here you are, holding our attention. They want to hear about our struggles, our dreams, our journeys. 

How would you feel, picturing yourself in that moment? How many of us get this rare chance to be seen, to be truly heard?

But reaching that stage wasn’t easy. It started with a whisper, a possibility, a dream of representing care leavers at the FICE International Congress. Every step on the way was a challenge, testing patience, resilience, and hope. I remember hearing about the Congress for the first time. The idea of standing as a voice for care leavers worldwide felt surreal, almost daunting. 

Could I do it? Was I enough?

The journey was humbling. It began with fundraising when every single penny had to be raised from scratch. Asking for support wasn’t just about money; it was about asking people to trust me, to believe in me. It was nerve-wracking. But then, something beautiful happened. Strangers,  people whom I have never met stepped forward. They believed in me enough to contribute what they could. Some even gave up their special days, their birthdays to make my dream a reality. The gratitude I feel is beyond words.

Then came the visa process, another mountain to climb. Endless forms, interviews, and waiting. Each step reminded me that I didn’t belong to this world of easy access and privilege. There were moments of doubt and frustration, moments when I questioned whether I’d ever make it. Yet, each hurdle taught me something valuable patience, resilience, and the power of hope. Finally, the day arrived. I boarded the plane, carrying with me the voices and dreams of care leavers from around the world. Landing in Croatia, Split, surrounded by unfamiliar languages and faces, I was nervous. But deep down, I felt a strange sense of belonging. I wasn’t alone I carried the weight of so many care leavers who deserved to be seen and heard.

At the Congress, I met people from all walks of life: social workers, care-experienced individuals, policymakers. They were strangers, but I felt an unspoken connection with each of them. One moment that will forever stay with me was a conversation with another care leaver, Sofia, from a small European country. She spoke about her years in care, how she often felt invisible, even in spaces meant to amplify our voices. “It’s like we're expected to be grateful just for surviving” she said. Her words struck a chord. She wasn’t just sharing her story she was sharing mine, too.

That conversation reminded me why we were there. It wasn’t just about sharing stories; it was about building bridges, creating change, and demanding that care leavers be seen as equals not as charity cases. But here’s the truth: the support and connection I felt at that Congress shouldn’t be a privilege for a lucky few. Every care leaver deserves to feel heard, to find a family beyond borders, and to realize their potential in a world that so often overlooks them. We are more than survivors. We are fighters, dreamers, and changemakers. Yet, despite our strength, we’re still kept on the outside, relying on the kindness of strangers for a seat at the table.

Why? Why can’t every care leaver have this chance? Why is it too much to ask for the world to not just listen but to truly see us?

I stood on that stage because of the belief of so many. Now, my call is simple: Will you stand with us? Not as an obligation, not as charity, but as a commitment to equality and justice. Let’s create a world where no care leaver has to wonder if they’ll ever be seen or heard. As I said goodbye to Sofia at the Congress, she hugged me and whispered, “we might not have grown up with families- but here, we have found one.” That moment is what it’s all about finding belonging, building hope, and fighting for a future where every care leaver feels at home in the world.

Will you join us? 

"Sometimes, the loudest voices are the ones that were silenced for too long. Let’s make sure those voices are never silenced again."

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