What Was I Thinking

I've been trying to piece together my past, and remember what led me to my decision to leave my birth family and go with my adoptive parents. My memories of certain times in my life are fuzzy. I feel like this is a memory that should not be fuzzy as it was such a monumental decision that I deeply regret. I was in the demented Christian group home, and she was my therapist. The last time I ever saw my birth mom was during a family therapy session. I don't even remember the session to be honest. At this point I was nearing the end of my stay. This group home had steps or some other insane thing and when you completed all the steps, you were saved and ready to go home. Or, unfortunately for some of the girls back to foster care, or someplace equally depressing. If I remember correctly I was one of the few girls who had an actual home. Strange right? Anyway, my next session I remember "D" telling me that she had determined that while I had grown, and made some positive changes, it was obvious my mom hadn't, and they(the powers that be at the group home)feared for me to go home. So, "D" mentioned how much she cared for me, and how much she wanted me to have a better life. That's when she suggested that I come live with her and her husband. You have to understand that as a sad and lonely teenager, I was immediately tempted by this idea. She was a great therapist, or so I thought. She was kind, and understanding, and she always said nice things about me, told me I was pretty which I craved sooooo badly. I remember I went and spent a weekend with them. It was weird, and I felt super awkward. But they were both so nice, and kind. I desperately craved that. And, there's something about a therapist that makes them feel really safe emotionally. You feel like they would be the BEST person to be around, so supportive and non judgmental. I remember the next week I made my decision and that was that. I left the group home, went to their house and that was that. I never saw anyone from my family again, and I never got any of my things, that was it. About a month or so after I had moved in with them, they approached me about adoption. They gave me a million and one reasons why it was the smart thing to do. I don't remember their words, but I remember feeling overwhelmed with information, and just agreeing to it. Not understanding the finality of that decision.