My name is Boris. I am 16 years old. I never had a mum and dad like my friends. My grandparents took care of me my whole life. My grandfather is a great man. He has always been like a real father to me, he always helped me, and never scolded me, but neither he nor my grandmother could replace my real parents. I do not want to see my father. He was never interested in me. But I want to see my mother just one more time – I want it more than ever.

A couple of years ago I could not stop asking my grandfather Kalin my mother. Not because he and my grandmother are not good people and did not look after me well, but because I just wanted to know who the woman who gave me life was. I wanted to be like Bobby, the neighbor who I go to school with, he knows who his mother is. I have memories of a woman who hugged and kissed me, but whom I had never seen. At last my grandfather explained to me that I have a mother and her name is Violetta and that now she has a new family with a new husband and new children. I was really hurt that her life went on without me.

When my grandfather told me this I could not stop wondering what I had done to deserve that. Why had my mother decided to give birth to me if she knew that she would no longer have any need for me? Was I not worthy of becoming a part of her family and her heart? I pondered these questions a lot and sometimes I still feel sad. I started to look for reasons why my mother did not want me within myself, because if things had turned out this way it was probably my fault.

Grandfather Kalin convinced my mother to take me in in Burgas for a while so I could study there. I could not wait for the day to come. I had packed my luggage two weeks in advance and kept taking my things out of my bag and rearranging them. I could not stop telling my grandmother how grateful I was that she had taken care of me and that I would come back. The old woman was crying and saying that it was my happiness that mattered the most. When I took the train I felt an inexplicable sadness for my grandparents who were waving to me at the station. I went to my mother and her new family. At first everything was alright. We all lived together. I helped my mother and her new husband, sometimes I would take care for their children.

But one day something broke in me. I realized that no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to have a mother, Violetta was not my mother. I did not have the courage to ask her why she had left me with my grandparents. The thought that I would never be her son, a part of her heart began to eat away at me.

I was no longer hungry. I was no longer thirsty. I did not want to speak with anyone. And I became content with this way of existence. I knew that it was not normal not to eat or drink, but my soul was suffering and eating and drinking water was the least of my worries. It was enough for me to lie in bed staring vacantly. In the evening, when everybody was asleep my head became blank and the only thought left inside was that I was not wanted. During the entire night I would think only about what was missing for me to feel truly happy...I did not want to speak with anyone.

One day Grandpa Kalin came. I saw the pity and the fear in his eyes. I had lost weight, I was helpless... but nothing could compare to what I felt inside.

He drove me to the hospital. I had resigned myself. They put some balloons with liquids above my head. Through a small hose they were transfusing real blood...

Then he took me to Sofia. There one doctor started to talk to me like I was his son. In the beginning I did not want to talk, but he was so kind that there was no other way.

I feel better lately, because twice a week Silvia comes to our house. In the beginning I did not want to talk to her at all – she was a stranger who wanted to know many things about me, but then she started to talk about herself too. We would talk about different things and I realized that I could not wait to see her. I did not go to school and I would only speak to her.

Silvia taught me to describe what was in my head and to talk when I was sad. Despite my mother’s betrayal Silvia made me talk about her, about what I thought about her. I felt a bit better.   

Now I go to school. Again because of Silvia, because she told me that no matter what I was thinking, no matter what happened, I had to grow up strong so when I had my own child I would be able to take care for him or her the way I had wanted to be cared for.

Despite everything I still feel a little sad. The other children are not alone, but with their mothers. And me – with my grandparents. Sometimes I hide and cry because of this. No one can replace my mother, or my father. No matter how much they love me.

Boris is 16 years old, a Roma, and now he is recovering from the serious illness Anorexia nervosa. He lives with his grandparents in a village near Vidin. They lead a poor life, but they are from the part of the Roma community for whom integration in society is of great importance. Bobby is 170 cm tall. When the disease was unleashed his weight was barely 40 kg. After the visits of the psychologist from the UNICEF Complex for Social Services Silvia Slavcheva and the intensive work with him, the boy started to recover. Now he weighs 65 kg and studies in the village school with the help of a support teacher. Boris would have been an invisible child had it not been for his grandfather’s request for help from  UNICEF and his motivating the education system to help his grandson.

*Boris’ and his family members’ names have been changed. The psychologist’s name is authentic.