I have been trying to write this for a long time. Not just
this sentence, or opening blurb, or as a good way to introduce a book. I have
been looking for an interesting way to introduce myself – me – for as long as I
can remember.
“Hi, I’m Emma, I’m a straight-A student, I work in
marketing, I have a boyfriend.”
Sounds good to Cosmo, or to a writer of a chick lit novel.
Everyone in Chick Lit works in Marketing or for a publisher, and I’m wondering
whether that is not the problem I first had…thinking that those two professions
were glamourous and actually meant I would find a roughshod man who broke the
mould and recognized me for me, and we’d live happily ever after. Well, there
are versions of that, I am sure. But this book is not about that. It is about
reality. This is not a book about how I’ve been abused by my parents – because
I absolutely haven’t been. I have had one of the best childhoods, and I’m still
fucked up…that’s why I am writing this. One slip of the wrist and your life can
go from good to bad. And that’s why you need to know this..
CHILDHOOD
My first memory is actually very nice. I remember waking up
on a duvet covered in clouds. We were in an attic and the Care Bears were
within touching distance, this is where I had my dreams, and wasn’t scared. My
Little Pony was a real thing to me, my parents were downstairs, but if I
screamed they would come, sometimes. I wet my bed until I was 8 years old. I
remember my Dad buying nappies in Sainsbury’s and looking at me and Daniel as
if we should be ashamed – 5 and 7 years old, and you’re still pissing the bed –
disgusting. Perhaps his later work with children might teach him that our
bladders weren’t simply the result of disobedience. He will never talk about it
now…so who knows?
When I was about six and Daniel was four, I believe my
mother became ill. She had cervical cancer, but Dad never told us anything. He
was trying to protect us. I know now that cervical cancer can be caused by
having lots of sex – my dad told me
that – so I now have a pathological fear of sex and I also think that my Dad
blames my Mother for her cancer. They have always used sex as a weapon. I’ve
lost track of who went behind the others’ back first.
When I was 8 years old we moved to Torquay. No one ever told us why. My Nana
and Grandad were the center of my world and we were ripped away from that
homely and comfortable world. I remember so clearly, brushing my teeth with my
Nana, her being my best friend in the whole world.
.
