Please take the time to read all of this,
I am a brat and hugely proud. Never will I feel like a Civvie.

The way I see it, I didn’t choose …. I was made this way (sorry about the length..lol)

It’s been hard it’s been twisted and so full of strife, the path we have walked through this abstracted life.
Without roots or firm purchase we could not become trees, travelling the world like a killer disease.
I say like a killer ….for dangerous we were , only the foolish chose our wrath to incur.
It made us all solid when faced with a threat , it’s one of those things I’ll never forget .

We all had our moments, I’m sure we’ll remember … the tears when you hear “We move in September”,
For some in those moments they were tears of joy , “..finally, away from that girl(or that boy )”
A new house, fresh adventures and places to find , but always you know in the back of your mind…
You love it here. you have friends …. so much fun ,“…but I wanna stay here!” you scream at your mum.

But you’re just a small cog, not even a wheel, the forces …the world, doesn’t care how you feel,
So following your duty just doing as you’re told, with toys and your ski suit your pj’s you fold.
Packed up in your room box, no secrets could hide.. for mum and dad packing would sure look inside.
So to meaningless objects, and to those who you know you’d say your good byes … then bin as you go.

We all know it’s hard we all had to do it, some more than others .. yet some hardly knew it.
And then we met civvies.. that unusual breed, so varied and random like chickens at feed.
They crow and they bluster and scratch at the floor, and think that you’re weak when you walk out the door.
For they know not the fury.. we all hold inside, held back with respect in a mental divide.

See life didn’t just train us to be self assured , as singles we’re dangerous ,more random ,more bored.
We see civvie street’s broken in so many places, chocked full of people with all the same faces.
We see them all day wherever we live, bent cops and the dealers ,the chavs and the divs.
If you are like me and have developed the same… It’s like being a camera.. watching a game….

So like a French movie’s crap, and predictable ending… our way of life we’ve no way of defending,
For scattered we were when the Forces were finished , their argument over.. the threat was diminished.
So sentenced to England for our crime of pride , like sleepers we spread thru the civvies to hide.
Our struggles ignored we adapted like normal , except this place had snobs.. who treat things so formal.

Don’t know about you ,but I find I must say , “ask” me for anything… and I’ll help you all day.
But get yourself lordy .. give me a command.. then problems you’ll find you have on your hands,
For orders I took when I was so little, have left me quite delicate.. in fact… fairly brittle ..
Now I’m a big kid, you have no more hold, and really… I’m through.. with doing as I’m told.

For I am a pads brat a thing known to few, and if you’re reading this far… I’ll presume you’re one too.
So if in your day you come up against shite, or that little twat in the dead of the night.
Your manager , your workmate ,whoever annoys .. Take just one small moment ,to remember your toys.
Cos going thru our lives we just got to know it , annoy me enough ……and here.??… “I‘ll just throw it”.

For that is our way .. of change we‘re not frightened , sometimes it’s better when problems are lightened,
So if you’re like me and you are proud of your past ,then may this group help you, and long may it last.
Over this season when out drinking beer, raise your glass up and let out a cheer
Do it when drunk… in well crowded places, then watch for reactions on all others faces ..

Most will just stare .. Others will blink… but the ones that we want… will smile, toast and wink ..

So raise up those glass’s and chant it out loud ,… we are best of British… “PADS BRAT AND PROUD!!!”



A question for you…. 

How the hell does someone begin to repair 28 years of mental abuse? And how do you learn to accept new people in your life?

Because I’d be damned if I knew. From previous blog posts you will already know about the relationship I had with my real mother so I wont bore you with any of that. I think I may have also touched on the state of the relationship that I had with my ex (not one for reading these back. So in case I haven’t said it already it was also as equally mentally and emotionally abusive) This isn’t about reminiscing about shit that’s happened before. I done that already so I don’t need to do it again. This is more about trying to work out how I’ve become so closed minded to any potential new relationship.

Ending those relationships were huge, and I do mean really huge. I was this 28 year old ADULT with two children, no idea of how to survive on my own, look after two children on my own, run a house on my own, get a job on my own and I was pretty much a shell of nothing. No sense of purpose or any idea of who I really was as a person, in my own right. 

Now to anyone reading that it probably sounds really over dramatic. It does to me, I deleted that paragraph three times before I decided I had the confidence to go with it. It really is how I felt though, everything up until that point was either done for me or I was told I could never do it myself properly. (Ex still tries it now at times but I have learnt not to rise to it and just ignore. He’s no longer my problem in that sense.) I had become a product of them so I’ve spent the last two and a half years learning everything all about me. My confidence has grown, my sense of self awareness is excellent, I’m strong minded, I’m aware of all of my faults and I have pushed myself so much further than I ever dreamed I would. I’m happy and settled within myself mostly.

So why, when I am asked time and time again “What are you looking for?” do I completely draw a blank? Why do I find that question so hard to answer? I know I want a relationship with someone, I want to share the new me with someone who loves me for all who I am. It surely isn’t that difficult! Seems that I make it difficult, I make it really hard for anyone to even try to get close. I become so possessed in this fear that I pretty much give them every tiny reason to walk (or run, more likely run so fast they’d break the land speed record) away.

A recent example is how I totally freaked out over someone I know in real life being on my twitter. Over the years Twitter became a hugely personally aid in everything. Bringing up Children, broken relationships, heartache and loneliness. It was my inner most thoughts shared to a community of people who wouldn’t judge me, the support I get during certain events is immense and a lot of lighthearted fun. It’s built into this bizarre collective of people, most of whom I have no clue who they even are but each of them are instrumental in helping me be who I am.

But that’s it though isn’t it, on there I am very much myself. So letting someone I meet in real life into that inner circle probably wasn’t a wise move. Or at the very least my behaviour since hasn’t been one of my most prized moments. I completely and utterly freaked out, then freaked out about freaking out. It’s certainly given me a lot to think about.

How did I think I was ready to let someone in when I am evidently not?

How do I change that pattern of behaviour of trying to push people away?

Is it just me that needs to do something? I mean, will it be easier if the right person was helping me? Maybe I’m over thinking it all but what is very real is the fear. It’s really quite overpowering, I have no idea where to even begin when it comes to not expecting people to walk away or how to not feel like I have to prove myself worthy to them. So obviously the easiest thing to do is to go in self sabotage mode (or self protection, whichever way you wish to see it) and probably save everyone from all the hurt. 

Shooting Star

Pretty if the sun won’t shine
I’ll be coming out to meet you
I’ll be there to make you mine

You’re pretty if the rain will pour
I’ll be knocking at your window
I’ll be begging you for more

It is as if you’ve come along too soon
and I’m trying to fit you in
but I can’t seem to follow

You’re a cutie if it all falls through
We can piece it back together
I can learn to trust you too

You’re just too good to lose
and I can’t refuse
so don’t make me choose
between the two
I’m fed up in here
in my atmosphere
Don’t you know who you are
You’re my shooting star

Your pretty teach me wrong from right
’cause in love there are no answers
and in life there is no lie
You’re pretty if the sun won’t shine
Now you’ve come this far to meet me
and I know, I know you’re mine

You’re just too good to lose
and I can’t refuse
so don’t make me choose
between the two
I’m fed up in here
in my atmosphere
Don’t you know who you are
You’re my shooting star

Don’t you know who you are
You’re my shooting star

Lyrics of the song Shooting Star By Air Traffic





Everyone is born with the right of the undivided love and affection from their Mother, Or so I thought.

That was a thought I had for the most part of my life. For a huge part of that time I even thought I really had that love, I mean, how could she not love me when every year I 20+ presents on my birthday or lavishes me with constant shopping trips for ‘quality’ Mother/Daughter time and other such luxuries.

All that though is (or was should i say) a smokescreen. A play to the outside world that masks the real nature of what mine & Mothers relationship really was.

The moment I realised the true nature of it was as enlightening as it was devastating. In one evening I had realised a lot, something a few could see many years before. I could finally see that my Mother didn’t love me, not in the way a Mother was expected to love a child. Of course this was heartbreaking, difficult to understand and just really very sad. Especially as I was expecting my second child at the time.

The events that led to this December night, a week before Christmas began in the September before. I was 22 years old, four years into a relationship, Mother of a two-year old and two months pregnant. Life was almost perfect in my mind. I had everything I had always wanted. Of course the moment you start to think that it all goes tits up. And tits up it did, In a tragic way.

A friend called us early one Saturday morning. So early my Son was still sleeping. Another friends three-year old Son had died that night. It was one of those gut wrenching, life will never be the same again moments. In more way than I realised at that time. The whole group of friends had gathered at one house waiting together for news. It was all very emotional and difficult, but we were all there together, supporting each other. Unfortunately I had to fess up about my pregnancy. A difficult time calls for a lot of alcohol consumption, I am normally one of the heaviest drinkers so it was noticed immediately. Anyway, to cut a long story short everyone apart from me got drunk. I headed to bed only to wake in the early hours to find my boyfriend wasn’t in bed. See, we had stayed at his friend’s house. His best friend no less, only to find him still downstairs with his mates Wife. To put it nicely, they were up to no good. Too many years have passed now to even care. Saddest part of it all is that a 30 year friendship was destroyed in a moment and two relationships broken. It really was a dark time for a lot of people, all while we were grieving for a little boy. I had my children to give me strength. I had to stay strong for them right? Keep it all together for them as best I could.

I wish I could look back and say I had the support from my mother. She said all the right things at first, that she was there for me no matter what and she just wants me to be happy. But the more I spoke to my boyfriend the quieter she became. After a few weeks of intense talks I had decided to forgive and move on from the whole sorry mess. That’s when the silence from my Mother started.

The main part of my relationship with my Mother was her setting a standard that I had to meet. whether it was having a spotless bedroom or washing up the dishes perfectly as a child or decisions I’ve made about my life as a young adult. I’ve written them as a pretty vague thing purely because that’s what it always was, vague. I never really knew the standards were. Being grown up now though I thought we were past that. I thought that she respected me as an adult, respected the decisions I make for the good of my little family, my children. But no, the standards had moved again and by forgiving I had made the wrong choice it seemed. I had shamed her apparently. Shown myself to be weak and I was letting him walk all over me. It was late September when I last heard from her. I tried so hard to get into contact with her, it was bordering on harassment at one point. All to no avail. She didn’t want to know,no explanation, nothing. My Son was missing her hugely. How do you explain to a two-year old boy that his much-loved Nanny just doesn’t want to see us? I felt guilt, confusion and hurt. This went on for what felt like forever. My bump was growing, Christmas was impending and I was becoming more and more worried about the lack of contact.

Then that night came, a week before Christmas. That night changed me forever. I’ll never forget it, it still fells like it was yesterday.

I put my little boy to bed, it had been a long day. We were both on edge for most of the day. I was all anxious, he must have felt it from me. It was like I knew what was coming. I ran myself a bath. I needed to relax, aware that the stress was no good for the baby. And that’s when it came, the text message that signified the ultimate rejection. I wish I could remember it word for word but that memory is long gone now. The general gist was that I am a disgrace as a Mother and Daughter. I was winded just by reading it, which quickly became a panic attack. My boyfriend calmed me down and reassured me that he will get this sorted once and for all. He called her, even from where I was sat sobbing I could hear she was drunk again, ranting down the phone full of spite and pure nastiness. Saying disgusting things about Him, his family, my family, and me. The last straw came when she started slagging of my Son. I had enough, lost it. I let myself loose with her down the phone. She got a few home truths from me. Everything, right back to  when I was 6 years old and I was rejected by her for the very first time. It all came spilling out, 16 years of pain and rejection. It all started to become clear.

Not one little thing was ever my fault.

That was the moment I was done with it all. I was never going to put myself through it again.

I’ve said it before, when I was still young. the seeds have always been there in my head. But the sudden fear that the same was happening to my Son was the final nail in the coffin. How someone could do that to their adult child was one thing, But to do it to a two-year old grandson is just heartbreaking. I’d sooner sell my soul to the devil if I would ever let her do it to him again.

So that was that, my boyfriend took my phone away, hung up on her while she was mid rant and we turned our phones off. That moment I knew I was never going to hear her voice again, never be hurt by her and that I didn’t have a single regret.

The next day I got a new phone with a new number. Just as she did to me when I was 15. I never looked back.

The next day I got new phone with a new number, just as she did to me when I was 15 years old and I never looked back.

All of that was 7 years ago, a lot has happened in that time. Of course I went on to have the baby, a daughter. My and my boyfriend went through some very hard times and we split a couple of years ago. I wont go into it now, That’s a whole story in its self. And I’ve most recently turned thirty. All landmarks in my life that I have should have shared with my Mother, all I had gotten though with out her.

I’ve been very lucky that i have had the most wonderful stepmum, who I now call my Mum. She has that true unconditional love for me as her child, which blows my mind quite regularly. I mean how does someone do that? I’d never felt it from my real Mother but it’s so strong and real from her.

It’s mostly credit to her for how I’ve learnt to deal with rejection and the fear of it I had developed. Shes always there no matter what, as is my Dad.

One downside is that they live 6000 miles away and have done since I was 17. That’s sometimes hard. I used to feel abandoned by them but I soon realised that it was transference of feelings about my mother and it was easier to take it out on them.

But anyway I’m going of track, the main point of this is to talk about how I dealt with realising my own Mother doesn’t love me. well not in a natural way at least.

It’s something I’ve thought about over and over in the last 7 years. Although it’s still hard now it’s certainly something I’m at peace with now. See, I’ve come to realise that it’s not my fault, nor is it the fault of my Mother. We’re both victims of her mental health. Sadly she is incapable of truly loving anyone. The same has happened to my younger sister and I’m pretty certain it will also happen to our baby sister also. Once I had come to terms with this it became easier to deal with.

Do I still think I have the right to love? Of course, most days. I watch my children grow in the most fantastic way and see all that see is missing. I feel myself grow stronger as I get older and I achieve things, I grow a strong sense of ambition, plans of what I’m going to do with my life. All things she has no idea about, every little thing she has missed and will miss in the future. It makes me sad that my son doesn’t remember her and my Daughter has never met her. all that is in the back of my mind. Now that not saying for one moment that I regret anything, not one little bit but I’m not angry anymore. I’m filled with enough love, care and affection from my children, parents and family.

Not having her in my life anymore is something I have drawn strength form. I’m no longer living in fear of mental abuse, failure and hurt. As the years go on I’m getting stronger, becoming clearer on what I am doing with my life and who I want in it. I can see any kind of toxic behavior a mile off and I’m very good at protecting myself and my children from it.

Of course there are still people out there that will never understand why my life has to be this way and I know many people who have relationships like this that have been able to work in one way or another. For me though it’s a to big a risk to take. through all of this I have learnt a lot about myself and how my mind works. I know that when I’m around my mother I become mentally weak, easily manipulated. If I was to let her back into my life I think the old patterns of behaviors will soon reappear. I’ll slip back into the constant striving for acceptance and love and never really getting anywhere. I know full well she hasn’t changed at all. apart from push more people away and hurt them. The common trend is everyone is used until they have nothing left to offer her. It’s not exclusive to her children, but her brothers, sisters, husbands and friends. The whole thing just makes me sad for her.sadly the is nothing anyone can do apart from draw strength from the experience and use that strength to make their own lives something worth the hurt and pain in the first place. And that’s exactly what I’ve spent the last 7 years doing and I will continue to do. Most importantly I’ll put that strength into my own children. Push and encourage them to do amazing things with their lives without the fear that they are not good enough because those two are worth the world and more.

I’ll finish on these song lyrics. I feed from music, it’s like it runs through my blood. The band, Mumford and Sons (not everyone’s cup of tea i know) have been hugely instrumented in the events of my life in the past three years. The following lines are from their song The Cave.

‘But I will hold on hope,

And I won’t let you choke,

On the noose around your neck.

And I’ll find strength in pain,

And I will change my ways’

This song came on as I was writing this. Hit me like a ton of bricks to hear it today. The whole song is perfect to put with all of this but those works are the most powerful.

My last words are this…

Everyone has the right to love and be loved. By who is something everyone has the right of choice.

This is a follow on from my letter to my mother. A tribute to three women, who have all played a very special part in my life. Non of them are blood relatives but more than deserve to be. It just shows that when someone holding a vital role in your life turns their back on you, there is always those angels there just waiting to fill that role.

So here they are…


 This is my Step-mum, I moved in with Rosalyn and my dad at 15. Rosalyn was only 27,(the same age I am now). She had no children, and had only lived with my dad for 3 months.

So to have a troubled 15 year old turn up at your door late at night, for good, must be a very difficult thing to deal with. It wasn’t easy for either of us. I tested every boundary, emotion and limit. But amazingly enough, She is still there! Rosalyn is the first adult in my life to show me that not everyone leaves. No matter what I do. I the way a mother should be. Every achievement i have she will praise me, not pick a fault in it. She has all the time in the world for me.

She showed me true motherly love, something I hadnt seen since i was very young. A true Angel.

Aunty Denise 

This is Rosalyn’s sister. She is a fantastic mother of 4. And i know she was a huge source of support to Rosalyn when I was younger. But for me it’s been in the last 4 years Denise has been utterly fantastic for me.

Having Rosalyn live so far away (Oman) Denise is my first point of call for support. She has made me realise im doing ok with my children, and shows me that when things are going wrong, how to get through it. And supports me when I get upset about my Mother, Denise’s logic of being a mother has taught me a lot about myself, And again she has shown me that she is another person that is here to stay, unconditionally and at anytime.

Another Angel sent to me.


Full credit for Rosalyn and Denise must go to their Mum, My Nana. She brought them up on her own, And made them into very special and loving people. I only knew Nana for 5 years. She very sadly passed away 7 years ago.

The 5 years I knew Nana, she was exactly that. My Nana, This woman had so much love in her heart, She had a whole ton of it for me. Treated me just as she did my cousins. I remember when i was 17 and living in away from my town. It was in really dark time in my life. But Nana sent me a letter. Nothing special, just to see how i was and to let me know things in her life. That was the single thing that starting me on the road out of the darkness.

I also remember when i had my son. She organised the whole family to meet, so they can all see her new great-grandson. It was a wonderful day.

These three Ladies are truly special, There isn’t enough words to describe them fully, In their own ways each of them have taught me different things about myself and about life. And they have well and truly filled the void left by my mother.

Sometimes blood isn’t thicker than water

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