Growing up when my parents should have loved and cared for me they blamed me. For their divorce, their debt, their depression and addictions. Drugs, bailiffs and abuse were all normal in our house. I developed ways of coping and staying strong for my younger siblings but this involved ignoring my feelings, pushing them down and pretending everything was ok.
Midway through my 20s I cracked. I could no longer contain everything and all the emotions came pouring out. Confronting how I felt, reliving it all in therapy and actually feeling the feelings was the hardest thing I have ever done. Healing is a long road I’m still on, but therapy and my support network including my friends and husband have been so important.
In the last few years, having come to terms with my own childhood, I felt ready to have a child of my own. Motherhood has been a rollercoaster with massive ups and downs but everyday I make the choice to be nothing like my own parents and that spurs me on when times are tough.
My birthday is always a hard time of year for me as it’s a reminder of what I lack in terms of family but when I turned 30 last week I took my daughter to the beach for the first time. After everything I’ve overcome making traditions with my own little family felt so incredibly special. It meant so much to me that it’s difficult to put it into words but it was definitely more than just a trip to the seaside.