Probably the most open thing I will ever write.
I’ve been thinking lately about how alone I’ve always been. Even in huge crowds of people I manage to feel isolated, and no relationship has ever worked out for me, because of my fear of commitment, or, more precisely, how terrified I am to let anybody close to me.
I tweeted earlier that nothing (or at least very little) can compare to the death of a parent. I’ve lived through that, and at a rather pivotal moment in my development, at 13 years old.
But realistically, that’s not what first broke me.
You guys may know that I have an older sister, Natasha. She’s fantastic, and I did spend most of my childhood around her, but, just like all siblings, we had our fair share of fights and fall-outs. In fact, it wasn’t until she moved out that we properly got on. But the problem with our relationship has always been the age gap. The ten year and seven month age gap, to be precise.
I spent a great deal of my childhood (obviously before the birds and the bees talk) begging my mum for a younger brother. I always had an urge to look after somebody more fragile than myself, probably due to the fact that I was bullied throughout almost all of my primary years, to an almost suicidal point at nine or ten years old (but that’s another story), and I sort of yearned for a big brother to look after me - although my sister would back me up from time to time, she was far too old to fight other children.
Anyway, the age gap was one problem. Also the fact that her dad was around, my dad rang maybe twice in my lifetime that I remember, and to be honest, I never remember talking to my extended family on dad’s side.
So there’s that.
So then we go to the fact that I’ve never had any grandparents. There’s granny on dad’s side but I only really met her two and a half years ago, and those close to me know how I feel about her. The rest of you will find out one day. And the fact that I never speak to her, and she lives in a different country, kind of makes the whole relationship impossible anyway. My sister’s spoken about our grandparents, so I know bits and pieces, but they were long gone by the time I came along, so I’ll never know.
Much like with my father, who left when I was so young I don’t remember him, and then he died when I was 13 and I was excluded from everything. And that’s something I’ll never get over. Nobody can recover from something that messed-up. But being told by countless relatives when I was in Texas two and a half years ago that I’m “just like Floyd” is sweet, but essentially meaningless. The man was a stranger to me, an idea that I’ll never be able to form alone.
So then we come to the extended family on my mother’s side.
There were occasions, when I was young, that we would all gather with the family, and I would be there, but most of the time, for many reasons, I was seen as a black sheep, partially due to a number of behavioural problems I’ve always suffered from, and partially due to the fact that I have always been a free-thinking extrovert. A lot of the family couldn’t deal with me, and others just disliked me.
The same goes for school. I had a best friend at my second primary school, but again, there’s a reason I went to three different primary schools as a child.
I was hated by most girls growing up. I never understood it, but at about ten years old started attaching myself to the boys, because, basically, I realised I was more like them. Which at that age is always tricky - hormones are starting up.
And it was around then I started with my obsessive behaviour, the behaviour that all of my close friends have seen in me. Some have called me fickle. Some say I toss people aside.
Really, I’ve spent about 80% of my life with only my mother as a crutch, and any excuse to escape that, my brain will take.
Kids hated me.
The little family I have were distant.
I’m not sitting here saying “life is hard”, I’m sitting here saying “this is who I am”.
So to those of you that think my ego is out of control, I want you to look at my friendship and relationship history, and realise how many people I have helped out of the gutter, how many people have stabbed me in the back, and how long I tried not to be alone.
And then look at the fact that I have NEVER let it hold me back.
For the past eighteen months, I’ve finally embraced, for the first time since I was about seven years old, that I am an island, the only person I can trust and rely on is myself, and that everyone has let me down.
But I’m not using that in a negative way.
I’ve decided to stop just helping the underdog because I relate. People have to work for it now, instead of using me as the bottom rung of their ladder to toss aside when they sail past me.
I’ve decided to focus on my future, push my own way forward in life, and stop trying to protect everyone around me.
Most importantly. I love who I am.
It took me years, but I finally got there, and no matter what anybody says, I’m gonna keep on loving her.
So as I close this pre-teen blog about how alone I am at 5:20am, I want to say this:
To all my 17 and 20-odd year old friends whining about dying alone, embrace it. I’ve had to live with me for over 20 and a half years now… and I’ve dealt with it.
That’s why if I never get married or have kids, I won’t care.
I’m happy with who I am either way.
