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Six people, in the last 2 weeks, have said write your life story. Personally I don't find it that exceptional. I will tell it, in brief chapters.

Born in Lewisham 1966. Birth name Stephanie. Birth parents unknown. Adopted by my wonderful parents as a very small baby. Back in the day when you could stroll in and pick up a healthy, white baby. My Mum suffered ectopic pregnancies, until her insides just exploded, hence the need for adopting.

My earliest memory is of my first brother. He was a small baby, I was not yet 3 years old. His birth mother came and took him back. It was legally allowed back in the 60s. I remember running after the car, screaming.

I got another brother, Mark. He stayed. We never bonded. I stuck up for him to the extent of duffing up every kid in his class, because he was bullied. He kept getting tonsilitis, which made him the runt of the class, so I just created havoc to protect him. Eventually he had his tonsils removed. And went on to become a boxer and sub 3 hour marathon runner. I still haven't bonded with him.

My next earliest memory is going to the lido with my Dad and his younger brother, my Uncle John. I was 4. It was a hot, sunny day, Aunt Cow (Karen) was at the side with my Mum, who can't swim. I could swim, my Dad watched Rolf Harris chuck babies in pools in Oz. John sat at the top of the big water slide, with me between his legs, Dad straddled the slide at the bottom to catch me. I slipped and went down the slide. and between my Dad's legs - under the water. I thought I was drowning. I didn't of course, but it scared the bejaysus out of me. This has had no bearing whatsoever on my life, until I was mid way through my closed water PADI qualification. We went to a different place with a different pool, and I froze, I was convinced I would drown. That has never gone away. A few months later, I went to Oyster in Soho and got my full closed water qualification, just through the sheer fuckeddy fuckness of being me. I still think I'm going to drown, and nobody will save me. I love scuba diving, but I'm terrified. I can easily swim a mile, labrador or polar bear. But I still think I'm going to drown.

My third memory was my 5th birthday party. We had a conservatory (dead posh in those days) leading on to our garden. I pigged so much, I was violently sick, and ended up being put to bed at my own party. Rock n roll, and of course over-indulgent, even at the tender age of 5!


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Jul. 24th, 2018 03:49 am (UTC)

This is brilliant, keep going, I might take it up to xc

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )


Call me Madam

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