Jessica's story - a story about a stolen child

Hi. My name is Jess and this is some of my story.

I am one of the 500,000 lost, stolen or forgotten Australians thanks to DOCS. I firmly believe it will be us, the adult survivors of the foster care system who will blow the lid off Pandora's box and all the evil and corruption they constantly cover-up. This is my purpose in life. I was quite literally born for this!

I was placed in a "private" foster care arrangement at 6 weeks old. My parents thought they were doing the right thing, my father passed when I was around 1. They agreed to give me to a woman my biological mother trusted. Both mum and dad's family trusted her and were completely manipulated by her.

She cut my families off and turned me against them with shame and lies. She kept them from me, and me from them. Isolating me, denying me my family, gaslighting, abuse, threats to keep me silent. Calling a child disloyal and ungrateful for wanting to know who she was, where she came from, who my people are.

I didn't ask for this and I didn't ask to be part of their cesspool of a family.

I was a baby!

A "sweet" little old lady... an angel on paper who is really pure evil.

A woman who positioned herself in society to have access to the most vulnerable children in the community, by running a not for profit "childcare" for underprivileged and migrant families through the local church.

She was heralded in the local papers as a saint when in reality, she is nothing short of a predator and a criminal. Acts of depravity disguised as Christian charity! Hiding behind the church, using her position and false reputation to pilfer children. She got her hands on my sister, and I... and others. My mother was placed on birth watch. She got my sister before she even entered this world before she was even born it was a done deal. I can’t even imagine my mother's pain. I know it killed her.

I ran away, 16 and pregnant, homeless, bounced from refuge to refuge. Battling homelessness, substance abuse issues, mental illness. I ended up in prison myself. Only further edifying this predator and enforcing that I was the problem! I became exactly what I was told I'd be, worthless trash and a junkie like my mother... from the very people who should've never had me in the first place.

Projection at its finest.

I carried being the "problem child" like a badge most of my life. When really, I was not the problem, and the badge did not belong to me.

My mother was an easy scapegoat for them, not sure who she can blame for her own children turning out to be monsters and drug addicts too. 3 out of 5 children struggling with substance abuse issues is no mistake... heaven forbid they look at themselves!

I even moved overseas at one point to escape them.

I've spent most of my life running thinking I could escape the pain and misery they inflicted, I couldn't so I'm not running anymore! I had no contact for nearly a decade, went back for a few years only to realise they are eviler than ever.

I now haven't had any contact with them for 3 solid years, but my sister is still being held captive. Disabled, 27 with mental comprehension of an 8-year-old being forced to work 9-5 for nothing, has no freedom, no life outside "work", the church and this predator who everyone thinks is a saint. What my sister and I were placed in is nothing short of modern-day slavery! Stripped of our identity. Bullied and abused into silence, into loyalty, like we were dogs!

It’s taken me all my life not to be afraid of them and use my voice.

I refuse to stay silent any longer.


My biological mother figured out we were being abused by this predator and started fighting for us in family court. A marginalised mentally ill woman with substance abuse issues and chronic illness up against a family with a "prestigious" reputation and enough money to afford this, she didn't stand a chance. 

Neither did I.

My mother died during court proceedings trying to fight for me. I was 12. Instead of the courts investigating my mother's claims, they handed me over in a "private court settlement" In other words, I was sold into illegal adoption. There is absolutely zero records of this, of course. As if the government would document this evil.

This predator managed to keep DOCS out of the entire thing, and they quite happily forgot about me and left us there.

Now I am fighting for the identity that was stolen from me.

Fighting for my sister.

Fighting for the 500,000.

No records.

No accountability. 

Constant excuses (there was a flood, documents were destroyed, your mother's records weren't accessed for 7 years so we destroyed them, you're adopted so you have no legal standing to access your mother's records, even though I wasn't really adopted) 


I am what is called "status unknown". Up against a "Saint", I do not exist in the foster care system even though I was a foster child from 6 weeks old. There is speculation I was sold into illegal adoption. DOCS and any other agency I've questioned have all called my situation "unusual" Ironic considering there's half a million of us.

I am a one-woman ARMY on a mission! I want to help people like me! I MUST use my story. I was stolen, lost, forgotten. In foster care. In an illegal adoption. How does the government lose 500,000 kids?! This is a rough estimate number. And only for adults of our generation. This is not factoring in children currently in care right now! I know the number is much much higher!


How can this happen?!!

Slowly I am building a case against the government and DOCS. I want a refund for my entire childhood. I want justice, not just for myself, but ALL OF US!

I can't be the only one? I need to make a difference! I need to make a change! I have to use my story to help others, to pave the way so they can get justice too but I can’t do it alone. I need help, I need others like me, I need connection, direction, so many things. The government don't care, and won't easily take accountable for their corruption or wrongdoings! I am powerful yes, but how powerful could we be if there were half a million of us?


This is bigger than me alone.