I always thought I’d be a writer, something I could do at home around my children (how little did I know how much time children take up and how distracting they are to have around whilst trying to do something else).
I was right in the middle of my A-levels when I became pregnant with my oldest. I planned to go to University and study English with Creative writing. In fact my mom had just driven round from Uni to Uni when I discovered that I was indeed expecting. I was studying Maths, English, Psychology and General Studies and just could not concentrate on my Maths (and it was a 9 o’clock lecture and I had to get the bus there lol) so that was dropped first. Then I dropped Psychology but they still insisted putting me in for the exam, saying I was a natural. I hadn’t studied it for a year, and was still suffering from domestic violence and so just didn’t think I could do it. I left the exam and talked to the tutors about what was in it – and verbally told them all the answers that I hadn’t just been able to write down. I was getting top marks (or near dam it) in English at the time. I approached a University and told them my situation and they said if I could get an A in English and an E in General Studies then they would let me in. There was no reason for me not to get those grades and so I was delighted.
My son was born in the December before my finals and the college said I had to stay off for at least 6 weeks. My mom looked after him so that I could continue to go in after that. I missed quiet a bit in regards to English Literature in those 6 weeks though, although I don’t think I realised that at the time. Then when it came to my actual exam my boyfriend, who was abusive and didn’t want me to better myself or go to University or indeed have any belief in myself, rang my mobile phone and left a message as I went in (and obviously couldn’t check my phone) knowing that I would be worrying through the whole exam that the call was about my son. Whatever the reason was I didn’t make the grade. I got my A & E, but the wrong way round. I was devastated not to get the A-level results I needed and was always told I was capable of.
I since went to another college to redo my English A-level but this is also when my mom died and I didn’t make the grade again and was still with the same boyfriend. I convinced myself (or was convinced) I was actually no good at English and stopped writing all together. I remembered I was told I was good at Psychology and so was now old enough to start an access course. Half way through the course I was bored and phoned up a University explaining my situation as regards getting all top marks in my Psychology modules, being bored and more importantly needing to leave the City I lived to escape the domestic violence. Luckily they said yes and I’ve never looked back since :O)
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