31

Life’s a bit fucked up right now, I’m not where I need to be or thought I would have been. All the discipline and structure I worked on is all fucked out the window. Never thought I would be here but hey?! I am, so I guess I got to deal with it.

I’m in a descent sized studio flat, converted from a conservatory. I have my own shower and toilet, a nice kitchen with a fully working oven. Separate sleeping area and a little garden, I’m also right next to the train line. The trains don’t bother me, but the fear of rats and darkness does. I got no proper heating but at least I’m safe. I’m deep in the back of South east London, nothing like the pretty streets of Notting hill I once knew. I like it here despite that, here has culture, atmosphere and diversity. All the things that my home town lacked in, kinda like that ex who you tried to make it right with because of familiarity but there was no hope. This is my new neck of the woods, my home away from home. This is the home that’s going to nurture and develop me into that woman I made myself to be and lost along the way. A part of me feels like I should be broken but my strength feels to strong to prosper. Eight months ago, I would have never thought I would have been this strong or able to do this but thankfully I’m still here. Despite what others believed or wanted. This is my silent triumph in the matter, a small victory dance only for myself to see.

Eight months ago, I was in the shittiest situation I could have ever been in, and I’ve been in some shit situations. I thought I was going with my partner to go and by a new car. He always ran into money even though this guy has never worked a day in his life. See Eugene had this thing about him, a charmer that looked like a beast. Not the most attractive of men but this was my thing. I went on approach, vibe, connection, these things he bought but unaware. To be honest I just wanted some fun. I was lonely in Hine sight but still my little juice box got me into trouble yet again. Like shit can’t I get shit right. I talk so much talk yet again can’t walk the walk. So back to this so-called outing… I got dressed up, I hadn’t done this for a while. I gave up any hope in looking fly but this day I wanted to look cute. I put on my black knee-high boots, tights, my true religion hand made skirt, a nice tight black t to show off my tats and my new navy-blue Karen Millen jacket. I felt cute, smelt cute and wanted to have a good day. I thought this was the start of something new with me and Eugene.

I’m on the coach making our way out of London, Eugene is lying on my shoulder, its peaceful. I feel that this is a turning point for us. Were comfortable, we always have been. We had that no make-up, dry foot, morning breathe kind of comfortable. Always watching something on the internet. So, this is what we done. Just chilled on the journey. He was quiet and I asked him what’s up, but I never thought anything from it.

We got off the coach in the middle of nowhere and had to take a bus into the town centre. We were going to buy a car, he sold his other one because that got scratched up while he got arrested. Till now that’s still a funny situation, what I call POLITICS. We get to the town centre and I go shopping quickly, this is a little addiction of mine. I love to shop but all sponsored by me. I am not that type of woman that will allow a man to sponsor my shopping. It just feels un natural, partner or not. I want to get my own, the overall joy feels so much more climatic. Once I finished, I asked him where we going? He said call a cab ill tell him the postcode. The way how she had me ‘trained up’ I done it anyway. No questions asked. While we were waiting, I could see he was starting to change in his mood, I always studied his actions, he gave me reason to. His whole vibe just changed, like jackal and Hyde, complete flip. We got in the cab and he told the driver where to go. I’m observing where were going, this sudden change in attitude has got my alert up but I don’t want him to know that. I start asking questions, as I do so greatly when I’m nervous. Maybe it’s a blatant show of my anxieties, seriously, it flows like verbal diarrhoea. I can see his agitated. Something funny is going on. This isn’t my area. No one knows me here, no one will recognise my face as someone they’ve seen. I’m fucked! I shouldn’t have been so fast. I am officially trapped; this big pussy cat has got his house mouse right where he wants me. And all these out of towners can tell were not from here. Probably thinking ‘oh its London... Gun crime... he probably has one... he looks like a hoodlum (he has a face like what my mum would call ’ a chewed-up toffee’)’. So, I’m fucked, the driver isn’t helping me even if I tried. Stigmas huh?! They don’t care about the situation. Just the stigma...I look a lot younger than my age, I’m knocked 31 and still get asked for ID. Not bad considering since 18 I have never had a home for longer than a year and each of those years I have been going through STAGES!

We pull up into a cul de sac, posh word for dead end estate. This is not the car dealership as I expected. To my left a door opened, I know this girls face. I’ve seen her before. I turned to look at him and said, ‘what is this?’ before he could even answer me, I said to the drive, take me back to the station please. Bearing in mind I have no money… total vulnerable to everything right now. My faith needs to be so strong right now…Never the less the driver put his head down and shock it saying no. NO?! Really?! Does he not know what might go on right now?! Does he have no empathy?! This fucking stigma. Before I could open the door to try and run, Eugene grabbed me in a choke hold and told me ‘get out the car’. I don’t want anyone seeing me in a physical altercation especially not another female, more so when she is compliant to what she is witnessing. I fixed myself and shoved him off me. I turn to him asking why? Like what is up

with all this? I know I haven’t been sleeping around so I aren’t going to find a group of me in this house all claiming me. Seriously I’m confused, scared and emotional right now. He doesn’t care for any of that, this guy has no soul. He pushed me into the house, girl still standing there but now she has a toddler by her leg. Chunky as I am, I dropped back onto this girl. I tried to hold back from complete dropping, I know there is a child behind me. Fuck don’t this father of 5 that just pushed me in the house aware of this too.

I walk in and do a quick perimeter assessment, sounds, smells, body counts, I’m like this. Don’t know where I get it from, maybe past experiences but I’m always alert. (My friend from nursery would tell you, I could be the drunkest of drunk but still have my wits about me: minus one birthday though. Ill get back to that one… Antics from a shameless past.) There is a kid here, the mum, the dad (I think) and that’s it. This isn’t fooling me, I still don’t know what’s going on and who might turn up. Eugene is not one to be trusted whole

and truth be told, nearly 5 people that know him more personally than me would agree.

Tears are streaming down my face and I’m trying so hard for them to stop. In the back of my head all these thoughts are going around and round in my hamster wheel of anxieties and fears. My mum, my first and current best friend, my rock, the lady of the manor, My Queen. Her voice of worry, hurt and disappointment, that “I’m not upset with you just disappointed” tone, saying ‘why did you go Ang? What made you think you could trust him knowing what he has done?’ then my BBF, Kelly, she doesn’t have words, just this look. Like a mother, sister, aunt and grandma all tightly synchronised together. Nothing sweet about it, she wants to devour me for being so stupid. She’s a pure-bred fighter, a little thing but she can handle it, always has. She has taken on my eldest brother, toe to toe. Her 5’5 (although she thinks 5’6” average height”) and him 6’4, like she is ready to swing one at him. Ha! She is one of my favourite people, I guess that why I’m welling up like this. But the topper, cherry on the cake, crème de la crème if you wish, my sister. My rock: Denise, words are not enough to describe the love I have for my little sister. We should have been twins the telepathy we have. I probably know she knows I’m in trouble now but because Eugene helped break my relationship with my sister, as his done with everyone. I know she is not calling me, she doesn’t even know what’s been happening in my life. She wouldn’t believe it. Knowing my favourite people maybe disappointed, worried and scared for my safety now and no one knows where I am or what is going on or even that I’m with him. I kept him a secret, clearly it was disapproved of. He had done so much in such a little time everyone but me could see it was a very toxic situation but me.

I’ve lost my confidence. So, any plan devised won’t be actioned, I’m too afraid now, I lost my will, that FUCK NO! that fucked off and left me. Rebounded on a love for egotist depression, self-wallowing worries and anxiously aware anxieties. Bitch needs to get it together. I repeat in my head I AM STRONG, I AM BEAUTIFULL, I AM BRAVE, I HAVE GOD WITH ME. I don’t stop, I can’t do anything else, I can’t talk, what am I going to say. “Oh, can I go please? I’m felling uncomfortable, just want to get some air really quick.” He is not going to let me out of his sight. He has triumph now, he wants his celebratory spliff and muggins here, no spliff to calm my nerves, still stressing silently. I must watch this fool look like that cat that got the cream?! When do I win? I roll my eyes and fidget. I can’t keep still or hide my frustration, I feel caged and speculated. Regardless I’m not happy, I’m only compliant with Eugene because he had this flippant manner. You could ask him something he didn’t like and BAM! Dramas and it won’t stop after 5 minutes. It could last for days. It has before I’m hoping this isn’t one of his episodes where he wants to act like a phsyco because his gullibility gets the best of him. He hasn’t real got people round him that would guide him to that sane place, they would just accept that behaviour. I knew how to manage it, I’ve dealt with crazy before. I remain calm. He lights his spliff looks at me dead im my eye “give me your phone” I’m baffled?! I give it to him, I have not got anything to hide. As his got full grip of it he said “so you can’t call police or Kelly” ………………OK OK OK PANIC, BITCH PANIC LIKE DID YOU EXPECT ANTHING ELSE. What the fuck does he mean, my tears have only just stopped. I’m questioning now, what do you mean? Why am I here? Clearly his people can see im distressed now, the child can see it. Its this what it took for privacy?! Their child to acknowledge. Now they’ve gone upstairs, I asked for a cigarette and we went in the garden to smoke. I done my checks back there too, just garden after garden. NO alley or street lamppost. Eugene squats down and goes into his shoulder bag and pulls out a piece of paper, I immediately know what this is. It’s a non-molestation order, when some on harasses you it’s possible to have an order so they don’t do it again, A civil matter only enforceable if its broken and proved. This I got recently, went to court with Kelly to get it. It was a back and forth battle with me and Eugene. Constant ups and downs, he had this cling to me, some sort of lost now found mother love he wanted from me. And my need to nurture as I have always done made it a match, this is not love. Straight comfortability between two lost

souls. I need love not to be wanted or need for a beneficial purpose. This is what he bought to the relationship. I was a void for his mother’s love, this is what I concluded with. I just couldn’t see any other reason to why a grown man could act this way. The amount of stress and control he brought made it feel like I couldn’t breathe. With him or without him. It was a very weird and confusing relationship. He stayed with me like we were in a civil partnership, looked after me like his baby mother and talked to me as if I was his daughter. A complicated love he portrayed, but I am not a physiatrist, still trying to find peace of mind for me right now. I am not qualified to deal with him and my mind, at all. Call me selfish but I need to think about me. Nearly 31 now, I have 10 nieces and nephews, no children from myself, a burning desire from my mother for one of her daughters to have a child and a very distant oh so familiar father that doesn’t even check on me. Life is politics at 30 and I can’t fathom the thought to take on his cognitive behaviour and fix mine at the same time any more. So I got the order, I couldn’t take his behaviour when he didn’t get his own way. No one could tell him anything for him to change and I tried to talk to people about him. I wanted the drama I knew as life to stop but in my world it continues.

I’m looking at the non-molestation order before he could say a word, with all the confidence I could pull from my vocal cords. In the sincerest voice, I said” did we not speak about this? I told you about it. That’s why we said were starting over” He said “fuck that shit, what the fuck did you tell them? You know I can’t see my kids because of this. Why you are telling them lies”. Well, this situation I’m in now makes it impossible to tell him what really is on my mind. YOU DID FUCKING DO ALL THEM THINGS. ME YOU AND GOD KNOWS. But I can’t express that. He had this thing where he made you believe a lie to comfort him in believing that its true, something I hated with him. So, this battle starts, he dissects every part of the order. Its structured to detail where and how we met, how the relationship started and ended. Highlighting the first reason for concern to leave and the last, no matter how hurtful it is to express. It had to be on there for the judge to rule in my favour.

We met at my friend’s Naomi’s house, I’ve known Naomi when she was a baby. She was my first neighbour hood friend; my mum and her mum are friends. Our families knew each other, and we stayed ta each other’s houses for sleepovers. Looking back at it I think our mums just wanted to have a drink in peace without our fathers. My dad was a real piece of work. I can’t remember Naomi’s, but I know for a fact my mum wanted that breather from my dad. I didn’t have the most peaceful childhood through domestic that would happen in my house but when my dad wasn’t there my mum was much happier and freer. We both had this freeness at Naomi’s house, laughter, playing in the streets, climbing into or onto something, throwing stones at the busses in the garage. We had pure imaginative fun. Always had her back, I was the older one and her sister wasn’t around when we played. So, I looked out for her when we played out. She was like a cousin and that’s was set in blood. When we got older and started realising just how close we were. We made a blood bond to be blood sisters and that’s how she became my cousin. Every time we saw each other it we would say in the loudest, jokiest voice “Cuzz, Wuzz, Buzz”. That was our greeting, throughout any stage of the years that was how we us to greet each other. Through the times I went on my little adventures Naomi had three beautifully children. Two girls and one beautiful boy, he was my dumpling. I loved them all equally each had a special type of aunty love. The eldest girl so beautiful and intelligent, she looked like her dad, her younger sister exactly like her mum. It was so sweet, looks just like her at her mums age and then the little dumpling boy. Character overload with his little self, he got me so broody. I wanted one myself just looking at him, so adorable. Me and Naomi had a family friend love, I thought it would never break. I keep good friendship, this one I never thought would have separated how it did.

Naomi’s home that she made for herself was a joyful, happy, family social house. She knew everyone. Elderly to just born, she was known in the area through her good-hearted warm vibe, she was Mumma love. I always went to see Naomi when I was back in Notting hill, it was like on my family list of houses I must say hi to passing through. I could disappear for a year and still come back like I’ve never been anywhere.