My mam made it clear to me that being my mother was a threat to her, so it was like there was a battle between us, with me wanting her love and she being threatened by what I wanted. It’s not that I feel it could have been any different. It wasn’t a matter of either of us compromising so that we could get on better; it was that my existence threatened her happiness, and that was the end of it. She was sixteen when she had me, and no doubt that was part of it, and I can see she found it easier with my younger sister. My sister was part of her new life with my step-dad, whereas I was a hangover from a life she wanted to forget. She wanted to re-create herself as a different person, and that meant I had to go the journey with her. She didn’t need to be reminded of her past but I was the reminder.

I lived with my nan and grandad until I was seven, but then my mam took me back but our relationship could never resolve itself. By the time I was twelve I wanted to be a rebel and she wanted me to toe the line and be part of her new life. She became keen on riding and she wanted me to go with her to the riding stables, but that wasn’t my thing - I was a goth by then and I wasn’t about to sit on a horse. She used to throw out all my black clothes. She wanted me to conform, but I wasn’t a conformist, not then anyway, and she hated me for it. 

One of the difficulties of being a child is the way in which things are hidden from you so that you feel strong emotions without being able to find the root of the feelings. I only found out that my step-dad wasn’t my real father when I was thirteen, and I only found out my dad’s name when I got hold of my birth certificate to apply for a passport, when I was eighteen. And it was only then that I was able to go and look for him. I found out that my father was a bad man, but I should always have known that and then I could have protected myself from him.

When I was fourteen I went out and got drunk, and when I came home my mam rang my nanna and asked her to come and take me away and from then on I lived back at my grandparents. I’ve not had a conversation with my mother since nor with my sister. I’ve seen both of them in town but we’ve never spoken. I invited her to my wedding in two thousand and two, but she didn’t come. I have two girls and a boy, two twins who are fourteen, and a four year old. My mother doesn’t know any of them, and, even though you might have thought it would be my relationship with her that would be most important, it’s her absence from my children’s lives which hurts me the most.