I grew up in a small town in Essex. I had an idyllic, Blyton-esque childhood building forts and playing in the garden. I was pretty indulged and never wanted for much, but I was taught to be accountable for my own choices, which turned me into a childhood worrier.
I don’t worry any more. School made me confident (and a bit snooty), I endured my parents’ divorce and I went away to college then university with a small but amazing group of very close friends and a happy, supportive family. Two, in fact.
I met Simon at college; seduced, dated, banged and married him and we live together in Brighton in our tasteful homosexual home, having come here together for university. I also lived in Canada for a year, which was amazing fun and made me appreciate living in England. Brighton is amazing and we feel lucky to live by the sea, somewhere so exciting.
After university, I looked for jobs in psychology. There weren’t any. Not any that considered first class honours psychology graduates with zero experience, anyway. So I started working as a teaching assistant in a special needs school. Ten years later I work in a different special needs school, as a specialist teacher for pupils with autism with a frustrating ICT leadership role.
Life is good. I have a lovely partner, a beautiful home by the sea, a kick-ass car, a job I love that pays me more than I deserve and a fully stocked bar.
[250 words: Not bad for my first time, eh?]