Today I celebrate my eldest sons birthday, he is 25 years old. I thought the day would feel joyous but instead I reflected and cried.
My tears are for all my struggles and adversity that I have faced. It was 25 years ago that I was made homeless, kicked out of the family home for being pregnant. I was told to leave my family home one week after turning 18. I left the house with only the clothes I was wearing. I cried all the way up the street to the bus stop where I continued to cry. I cried so much I missed the next 3 buses, I just sat there balling my eyes with no composure and unsure what to do. Having finally calmed down I bused to my friends house to ask for a bed for the night. She agreed I could stay, but her flat mates were not happy and voiced their opinions. They didn’t want a pregnant teen who had no money staying. That night was lonely and the room felt dark and empty. I was hoping the flat mates would change their minds but did not happen.