Born summer 1975 in Fife, Scotland.
Mother unmarried and only 21, boyfriend left on finding out mum was pregnant.
Taken home from hospital to a busy household, 1 x Italian/Scottish Grandmother, 1 x French/Scottish Grandfather, 6 x Aunties and 2 x Uncles the youngest being 8 years old.
Noted that I am an articulate and bright child from an early age, having to battle for attention and hold my own. I caused many an adult to stop and think and interact with me.
Aged 18 months, Mum meets my to be step-father.
1977, Mum marries step father (will now refer to him as dad, I know no different) and we move into a council flat.
Aged 3 my little sister is born, she was very poorly and born with a serious heart defect.
Mum & Dad are wrapped up with little sister, as told she will die (sister is 30 this year!).
Aged 4 1/2 we leave Scotland to live just outside Bath, for my dad.
I could read, write and tie my own shoe-laces before school, I had a reading age of 9 at 5.
I was an intense and bright child, obsessed with cleanliness. I wouldn’t eat carrots because I had seen them come out of the dirty earth, I would pick the seeds out of tomatoes and raspberry jam sandwiches.
School is not much fun, I am bullied for having a Scottish accent in a very posh English area
Headteacher tells my Mum that I should be a Sargent Major as I am overly organised and bossy.
Bullying starts, I get stabbed with a pencil in my face aged 6, luckily I turned my head and it missed my eye and hit me near my ear and I have a lead mark there still now.
1982 we all move back to Scotland, for dad’s work again, different area.
School stinks, I have a “posh” English accent now and we’re in a strained area, meaning I’m physically bullied. Spat at, chewing gum in my long hair, school books ripped up. Mum storms the school and ends up sorting out the bully herself.
This isn’t a fun time, Mum is really bad tempered, shouting at me a lot, even threatens to put me in care. My sister is bargaining on my behalf, she carries this on for months. I can’t understand why, I’m not unruly!
Aged 8, my Mum has a sit down serious conversation with me. She tells me that my “dad” is not my real Dad, I have one elsewhere that I don’t know about. I’m not sure what prompted this conversation, but I can tell you that it blew my world up, all of my identity is a lie.
Apparently the change in me is immediate, social services are involved and I am in counselling for over a year. I become uncommunicative and I can’t use the toilet properly for a long time.
Aged 9 1/2 we move to a town close to my family, I see my Great Granddad just after he died and kiss him goodbye.
My dad has an affair, leaves the home for a year. I think this is my fault and become very introverted, start smoking with my friend and lighting fires in the local woods after school.
I
can’t deal with the emotion of the family home, my Mum is so upset and I hear her crying at night. Don’t want to be with grandparents, don’t want them to take my mum away from us too.
Dad comes back after a year and they both go on holiday to Spain, sister and I contract Gastroenteritis in their absence. We’re both very poorly, sister ends up losing a lot of weight and is in hospital for a few weeks.
It’s decided to move us back to England, for the final time in 1986 for Dad’s work again. We move to Bath for almost a year, I am enrolled into a girls only school that is overly pretentious. Again, Scottish accent, again bullied and bored of the whole experience by now.
Living in a Victorian building just off the royal crescent, top flat. Start thrill seeking, by climbing onto the roof and watching tourists in the city and running along the flashings.
A year of no friends, horrid school and roof running, we find a house. It’s 20 miles away from Bath, it’s in the middle of nowhere and it means another upheaval.
We move to a village in the middle of nowhere, with kids who have grown up together from birth, they hate newcomers.
New school, 40 minutes away on the school bus. Bullied mercilessly for various things, including being “Gay”, “Scottish Witch” , no friends, middle of nowhere and alienated parents.
Spent my time trying to survive in the family unit, can’t relate to anyone I’m living with. My habits are eccentric and irritating to them, I feel that they’re angry and push me aside. Don’t tell them about bullying, what’s the point.
Concentration at school deteriorates, don’t bother in school. They can’t reach through to me with the copying from one exercise book to another, I survive through sports.
Have breakdowns in front of my Mum, when I say things like I’m afraid of growing up, have panic attacks, scared of being on my own. She dismisses them, tells me I’m a horrible child and that I’m hell to live with.
Switch off completely, get hell at home and at school. I’m a tall awkward teenager, shy and withdrawn, grow up without friends or without family.
Aged 16, turn up for GCSE’s ater giving them no effort, not sure why. Inevitably, fail all but one, French (random)
Finally have enough of poor relations at home, too many arguements, too many threats. I walk out one evening, never go back.
Spend a number of months sleeping rough and on friends sofa’s. Start college and relish being treated as an adult, I’m learning on my own basis and doing well.
A homeless charity for young people learn about me, offer me a bedsit. Sounds crap but trust me, it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I move into a tiny tiny room, with a bed, a fridge two hob rings and a chair, home sweet home.
I realise finally, that when looking at my friends and their lives, I am indeed gay, I always have been, but I don;t feel the need to be open about it yet. Well my sister tells me that I’m gay, I don’t put up a fight, she’s 13 for christ’s sake, says she’ll love me regardless.
I notice a pattern with college and with life, I’m doing well at times, flying high. Then things get too fast, too many assignments, too much to think about, I crash out of most subjects and re-enrol for another year, new direction, trying to keep it in check.
I’m not in any relationships, I’m getting quite a bit of interest, but I’m a little too introverted for all that. I get voted the LBGT mascot ha ha!
After two years in the homeless hostel, learning to cook, do laundry and a major house-fire, I move out to a flat in the same town as my college.
The flat is a hell-hole, smashed window in the front door, no heating, old furniture donated to me, no washing machine, old pull flush toilet. It’s my hell hole though and I love my independence, 18 years old and sustaining myself (kind of).
I am the coolest girl in college having a flat of my own, little do I know that my judgements are poor, only the wrong kind of college associates want to hang out with me. It’s a dry place to do drugs, which means I get mine free.
