Tag: Love

What is home?

“Home is where the heart is.” Is it?

What does the word ‘home’ mean to me? To those who know me? Those I don’t know? And those who have the power to deny my family a home?

In December 2017, my family and I were stripped of our home. We were told we’re to be made homeless, with nowhere to go. With Christmas right around the corner, we weren’t planning on having one this year. Why? Wait until you hear this…

My older sister, Chloe, had finished college that year which meant my Mum had to change our ‘circumstances’ for benefits. She didn’t know this at the time. The way she found out that she had to ‘change circumstances’ was when we received a letter from our Landlord giving us a date to move out by. The 10thDecember. We were heartbroken. No warning letter or email? Nothing.

Something similar to this happened to us before. In April 2014, we were settled in an old cottage – we had lived there for almost seven years and just finished decorating the whole house – new carpets, new coats of paint – you name it, it was totally refurbished.

A housing inspection was coming up and it was the nicest it had ever looked. It looked so nice that our Landlord’s daughter wanted to live there. We were given a notice to move out within three months. We hadn’t done anything wrong; the law is the law. We managed to find somewhere that accepted us, two days before the moving date.

Straight after receiving the letter to move out by the 10th, we sent off all evidence to show that Chloe had finished college and that I was still in education. As well as my Mum studying in University. We sent off evidence to show that circumstances had changed. We did as we were told.

What happened next? We were given the option to be split as a family in two different bed and breakfasts because there were too many of us for the same room. It’s better than being on the streets – that was the other option, but still not ideal. Can you imagine the impact of this on our family? What if it were yours? It was as if the world in front of us ruptured in two.

On top of this news there were ridiculous curfews which meant we had to be out by half eight in the morning, and we weren’t allowed back until half six in the evening. Our home was no longer our home; we were bounded by the narrow fences of life. We aren’t the only ones to go through this, thousands of families have gone through similar situations and it is still happening.

Who is the heart of the home? My mum is the pillar of strength whilst being physically weakened by MS (Multiple Sclerosis) – she was diagnosed in 2014 – which meant she needed somewhere to stay warm and somewhere to sleep when she was tired. With the stressful events going on, this caused her to have a relapse.

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(me left, my mum, my older sister)

A relapse is where she progressively gets worse, so she is more ill than usual. Her vision became blurry, her legs were throbbing, her head pounding, hands shaking, back tingling, always sleeping, unable to stop; stop all the agony that they had caused. It was painful to see the power people had over my family, and families all over the country.

The last time she was like this was when she lost her best friend to cancer. Heather had been there for our family for so many years through all our difficult times but in 2015 she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She beat it quite quickly which everyone was overjoyed with. However, it wasn’t over.

She was diagnosed again a year later with four weeks left to live – the cancer had spread. We took in her four children – the youngest was three – for six weeks as their dad had died two years previous to that (also from cancer) – until their Auntie dropped everything to live with them. Their family were coming apart at the seams, but we stitched them back together as best we could – like Heather had done many times for us.

My Mum was in contact with our Landlord’s agency. They were texting back and forth trying to figure out what had happened. They said they couldn’t do anything so as a ‘nice gesture’ she gave us a little longer and pushed the date to the 16th December. Right before Christmas. When it’s even more difficult to be rehoused. Brilliant. Thanks for that.

To top it all off, the Council claimed that we had made ourselves purposely homeless, so they had no right to house us in a Council house, or a bed and breakfast. WHAT? WHO MAKES THEMSELVES DELIBERATELY HOMELESS? We were a family picnicking on train tracks. The potential for disaster hadn’t stopped hurtling towards us.

My younger brother had not long started high school; he was petrified about what bus he was going to have to go on; my younger sister was doing her GCSE’s and that alone was stressful enough; my older brother and sister didn’t want to be torn apart from the family in a different part of town: the ‘rough’ side. As for me? I was studying A levels; I had to put a pause on that. I had to do something. Anything. As long as I tried.

On the 13th December, my Mum and I went to visit a house in Erwarton (a very small village in the middle of nowhere); not getting our hopes up because we never got accepted just like that. (The last time we moved to a new house we were turned down by sixty-eight Landlords. Sixty-eight bruises to our confidence, our sense of wellbeing; our hearts. Just because there’s five of us kids, we’re on benefits and my Mum is a single parent.)

My Mum kicked my Dad out in 2011 for drinking too much. He was an alcoholic who couldn’t change his ways – he didn’t want to change his ways. He lives with the bottle, that’s the way it is. Over the years, beer after beer, he drunk more till he became ill. His body’s too old for working; he looked fagged and sallow – like his future. Though he does still work, works hard too when he wants to, but is always in agony. His joints stiffened more each night he drunk his life away. We tried everything to help him, but he didn’t believe he had a problem with it. He traded everything for suffering. Eventually, Mum gave him an ultimatum: ‘me and the kids, or your drink.’

If you hadn’t guessed, he chose the drink.

After being diagnosed with a long-term illness, losing a best friend, a husband and father to her children, a home, all we wanted was some peace and happiness in our lives. For something to go right, just once.

After all this, here we were: looking around the immense rooms, we fell in love. The garden was large – big enough for a family our size. It had three large bedrooms, a quaint livingroom and plenty of cupboard space. In the peaceful countryside like our cottage, it seemed like faith bringing us back. And it had banisters up the stairs (we had asked our Landlord for these for three years to help my Mum, but he said they look ugly). It was perfect! But did the Landlady think we were perfect for the house?

“You can have the keys this Friday.” The best Christmas present we could have ever asked for. Relief washed over us; the battle wasn’t over yet. Could we get the council on our side to pay for a deposit? Or to continue paying rent? Could we do so much in so little time? We had one day to tell our current Landlord. Two days to sort the Council out. Three days to move out of the old house.

16th December rolled around quickly. After being up all night and day, packing and unpacking, at 12:00pm, we handed the keys over to our Landlord, for the Landlord to then question why we were leaving. Are you confused? We were too. ‘It was all just a threat, so the Council would continue paying the rest of the rent.’ They couldn’t have sent a text or email to say that’s what they were planning? Instead they said nothing except that we had to move out.

All of a sudden, they changed their minds, probably because they would now be missing out on money coming in and no one would want to move in. Why? The house had many flaws that the Landlord claimed that he couldn’t afford. For instance, we had no bathroom for six months, no cooker tops the whole time we lived there, an electrical fire in the livingroom because of dodgy electrics. The house was dissolving like some unsubstantial vision faded.

“Home is where life happens.”

And now we are blessed with this view in the evenings (when I’m not at uni)…

view

How we met (part 2)

After a lot of thought, I realised I should probably cut all cords with this guy as I was falling for him. I felt awful and didn’t really want to do this, but it was for the best. I didn’t say anything more to him; I’d smile at him in corridors, nothing more than that. He never asked why we stopped talking; I think he thought it was because of my boyfriend though. It felt like a piece of me was missing. I felt lost. I was empty inside.

Happy never-ending

Attending a party with my boyfriend, lo and behold, who should show up? Of course he had to be there with all my other closest mates.

As the night went on, most people were dancing, drinking, and having the time of their lives. I, however, was trying to find my difficult to deal with boyfriend. I gave up on him and did my own thing. People were dropping off to sleep as fast as the speed of light towards the end of the night. I was still wide awake; I set off to find him. I went into the kitchen and he was there. Girls chatting him up and flirting, he looked over to me and smiled.

I sat down at the dining table to join them. After a few drinks, he and I had a proper chat again, like we did before. My mood instantly changed after we started talking. It’s like nothing had changed between us.

Summer goodbyes

Summer was looking bright and cheerful, until one day. (This day was the worst of them all.) I was going on holiday with my boyfriend and his family.  We were about to leave, but then he pulled me aside and said he had something to tell me. He told me to sit down. My heart was beating so fast you probably could’ve seen it come out of my chest. I had a gut feeling I knew what he was going to say. “I cheated.” Just the words I thought were going to come out of his mouth. I wasn’t shocked; this was the second time he had done it. Tears came flooding, I had been shut down. Was I not good enough?

Cheating is a choice, not a mistake. I broke up with him there and then. He said nothing, not even an apology. The only thing he said to me was, “I thought about you the whole time.” I thought I was going to throw up. I phoned my mum to pick me up; she didn’t ask why, she knew already. I had no one.

Bring it back 

Summer was soon coming to an end.

Feeling down, I was just scrolling through my phone as bored as someone waiting for an Ipswich bus to turn up, wondering whether it actually will or whether they’re just wasting their time. Surfing through all the types of social media: Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter, Instagram etc. I receive a random snapchat from him. Him, with the gorgeous red beard and sweet-smelling scent. It was only a snapchat sent out to everybody about his car. Disappointing. I replied anyway and asked how he was.

A week later we met up on the 11thSeptember, seven months later than our first outing/date; we went on our first ‘official date’. It was as if nothing had even changed since we last started talking. We were the best of friends again. I had him back. Did he ever really leave?

Breakups hurt, but losing someone who doesn’t respect and appreciate you is a gain, not a loss. Never lose yourself while trying to hold on to someone who doesn’t care about losing you. One sided expectations can mentally destroy you. Don’t change so others will like you, be yourself and the right people will love the real you.

Two years later, and him and I are still together, and we couldn’t be happier. I’ve never been happier. Those feelings that came back never went away.

True love has a habit of coming back.IMG_8208

How we met (part 1)

shoes

About this time 3 years ago I was in Colchester Sixth Form, not really liking many of my subjects, which caused me to: bunk off any lessons I didn’t like; not concentrate in the lessons I actually went to and sleep often in school.

I tried dropping German as I took three other subjects anyway. But no, the college wouldn’t allow me to. So instead, I would bunk some of my lessons to do something more productive with my time. And believe me; I can now definitely say one of the days I did bunk, was certainly productive indeed. I just didn’t know it at the time.

No idea

Break was close to finishing and I was about to set off for German. Everyone had left the Student Pavilion, which was a social room where you can do work or talk, except one person. I had seen this guy around before but had never got the chance to talk to him. We started speaking – we had most of the same friends – and got to know each other a bit better. He was tall, auburn-haired, had electric blue eyes and a gorgeous ginger bushy beard. There was also something about the way he spoke, his voice, I could’ve listened to him talk all day. One thing that I noticed most of all was the rich, enticing essence of him. I can still remember it now. We spoke all week, at the same time when I was supposed to be going to boring German.

I had one problem: I was already in a relationship. The guy I was with was a bit of a dick to put it bluntly. I wasn’t so sure that he was the right one for me; he was too bossy and controlling, but I stayed with him anyway. I liked the idea of being in a relationship more than I liked him. Stupid, right?

Just an Outing

The week after meeting the guy I had grown to adore, he and I spent every free lesson and lunchtime we could together. We would go to the park and sit on the swing together in the pouring rain not having a care in the world talking about our future. ‘How many kids do you want? What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?’ Etc. We would play together like kids on a Sunday morning.

I would never normally even think about getting close to another guy whilst I’m in a relationship. I consider myself to be loyal and trustworthy. There was something that wasn’t right about the relationship I was in. I just couldn’t figure out what; I didn’t trust him. I had a gut feeling that he just wasn’t the right one for me. I knew I would never stay with him for the long run. Don’t marry someone you don’t want your children to be.

Marry someone that brings out the best in you, not the stress in you. When you know they’re the right person, you just know. There’s no easy way explaining it. I would never again get close to someone else whilst in a relationship. I’m happy now, there is no need to.

He asked me if I wanted to go out to the cinema and for a meal with him; he never classified it as a date so that was fine, right?

After a busy day at college, we met up and went to the park whilst we waited for the film. It was Thursday 11thFebruary the day after Deadpool – which we went to see – came out. We were in a world of our own: listening to music; gazing at each other; laughing at everything for no apparent reason, simply just because we could.

Six o’clock came around faster than we expected. The skies were soon nothing at all. It was like a child began to draw on it with a pencil and then erased it in a way that smudged and spread the grey. Meanwhile, the rain streaked down – invisible until it hit the sodden ground. Drenched, we sat at the back of the cinema as barely anyone was even in our screen room, which was odd considering the movie had just come out. It sure didn’t bother us though. We were so hyped up we crawled around behind all the seats trying not to get caught. We giggled like toddlers as if we had been caught doing something naughty. We talked and talked as if we hadn’t spoken for over 100 years. I don’t think we watched even half of the film as we were just too distracted by each other’s company. I never felt so alive when I was with him.