I remember the first time someone told me I had a "special
calling." I was young and naive and beamed with pride as I
imagined all of the super exciting things God had in store for
me. At the time, I was certain it had something to do with the
CIA, or maybe I would make a career out of traveling, alleviate
poverty, or write a bestselling book. As each of those things
fell through and the words of the people who spoke them over me
fell flat, I began to question -- my life, my goals, my purpose.
Law career? Gone. Husband? Gone. Security? Gone. Hopes, dreams,
aspirations? Gone. My blog? Have you noticed how long it has been
since I've sent an email to this list or written a legit blog
post? Maybe there's a reason for that. It could be that I've
stumbled upon my calling -- or it found me. As you're reading
this, I am sitting in a court room waiting to be ambushed once
again by DFS. You may know them as "Child Protective Services."
Yes, you read right. For the past 16 months these people have put
me through what I can only describe as a literal hell. I was
targeted ... and no amount of conspiracy theory can go against
the weight of that reality. Two of my children were intentionally
put into foster care for the sole purpose of adopting them out to
a family who was friends with a caseworker. (The kids have since
been removed from their home.) I have been lied to, lied about,
threatened, harrassed, interrogated, forced to take a psych
evaluation, alienated from two of my children who have been
alienated from their siblings, false-hotlined (thankfully the
investigator here did her job properly), accused of abandonment
and abuse (because apparently they found out you actually have to
have grounds to take and/or unlawfully withold someone's children
and they didn't have them), and when their far-fetched desperate
attempts to circumvent my constitutional rights didn't pan out,
they just started making stuff up -- though that would imply that
at some point they weren't. I can't describe how hard this has
been for me. I'm pretty sure I'm perminantly tattood with PTSD.
At one point, I was chastized on the stand by the guardian ad
litem (who is supposedly representing my children) for not
leaving them in their country (which would have resulted in
death) and for refusing to enable the discrimination they
experienced by their father (who, by the way ... has no case
against him). Do you know what they call discrimination between
your black and white children? Racism ... and I won't apologize
for taking no part of it. I can't fault her too much though, she
made it clear her objective from the start was to illegally adopt
my kids out, and my goodness her zeal in following through has
been nothing short of impressive. My guess is that they realized
they couldn't take me down, so they enlisted the help of the man
they thought could. I could be mad, but if I choose to remain in
that state, then I might miss my calling. I don't believe it's
coincidence that I'm sitting in this court room right now.
They're used to railroading people with questionable pasts and a
lack of resources to fight back ... and then they got me. I am
their worst nightmare and they know it. I am the catalyst for
change within a system that has been allowed to function for far
too long without accountability. I would encourage you to find
your own calling, but my guess is that it will find you and it
might be dressed up in a really ugly package you're going to wish
for a hot minute you didn't open. My advice? Open it anyway.
Love, Megan

You can read more about my battle with DFS here and here. If
you're waiting for the trilogy to parts 1 (
[link removed] ) and 2 ( [link removed]
), don't worry ... it's coming, and so is my new wellness course
and supplement line. More details to come!

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