“You’re an it” I remember been called an “It” constantly over the years, that’s what my stepfather referred to me as, I was young, maybe seven or eight years old when I recall been called It for the first time. I could never understand why he hated me so much, I tried so hard to make him love me, but it just didn’t work. I used to sit in my room and fantasise about my biological Father, wondering what he was like whether he loved me, whether he thought of me and if he would one day come back to save me. Little did I know my real Father wouldn’t be saving me, and this house on Portobello Street was just the beginning. I would have to suffer years of mental and physical abuse from those I loved the most before I finally saved myself.
I'm the byproduct of bad parenting... 