Left home when I was 16.
My parents very wealthy, middle class parents didn’t want me.
I knew I wanted to go to Uni in Manchester it was the late 80s, early 90s days of Madchester.
Lived in a squat in Moss Side at a time when nobody wanted to live there and the Local Authority had neither the money, nor the mind, to do anything about the place.
It was a fantastic community of squatters.
Everyone looked after everyone else.
You couldn’t have many possessions in case the place was busted, you would be surprised at the few essentials you need.
It also kept us free of burglars, nothing to take, nothing to steal.
Some of us took recreational drugs not me, I am allergic to too many things to risk it. No-one kept drugs at the squat.
At that time there would be occasional shootings outside.
Mostly though our neighbours just wanted to live a quiet life.
I often used to confidently walk home on my own, through Moss Side’s back streets in the dark.
At the time you could take £5, have a great night out until the early hours and come home with change.
One of the few house rules was to respect our neighbours.
One neighbour was an older, retired, Windrush man.
I met him on one of the gantrys.
I used to take him a freshly cooked plate of food and he would tell me all about his life.
Over time we came to love one another in a Grandfather/Granddaughter way.
Once, I even took him down South to meet my own two Grandparents. They all got on brilliantly and he stayed a week longer than we planned!
Some years later he arrived at the hospital, his hat in his hand, to see my brand new, first born DC.
He showed me so many kindnesses.
He lived well into his 90s.
He never went into a home and I continued visiting him at his house, then finally in hospital.
At his funeral I cried like a baby and I saw again a few of his family, with whom I have kept in touch.
They gave me a bundle of the letters I had written him over the years, I cannot look at them without crying.
Took my A Levels in Manchester, 3 in a year, part time while I was working 30 hours a week.
Got into Uni and stayed in the squat.
As I was in Manchester I didn’t get into music journalism, nor did I try.
Though I did walk into an excellent career in the broadcast industry.
If you know anything about the industry, you know me.
It sounds mad now, a small 16 year old white girl living in one of the ‘worst’ places in the UK, but it was the best time.
Character building because you found your character, your strength, pretty damned quickly.
My own DCs lived with us well into their 20s they went away to Uni that was their choice and we were happy with that.
Though DH (who had also left home at 18) and I have always wondered whether they missed out on all of that early-adult life as a result.