Brutally Honest Confessions: The Teenage Years

Today’s post follows on from last weeks pre-teen post. It won’t be pretty but it will be honest.

I went into my teen years pretty much the way I’d lived before them. I was good at school, beaten at home and cherished my friends.

During the ages of 11-15 I went to stay with my Gran on and off quite a lot. My mum thought it was the better option. Unfortunately my step dad was a master manipulator and while she knew he was violent he always had a way of turning things around, it was always my fault. 

At one point I wrote a letter to my biological Dad asking for his help, explaining what it was like to live with my step dad.

As a result my Dad rang my Mum about the letter and all hell broke loose, again I was made out to look like a liar and an over-exaggerator. The one time I asked him for help and he failed me. It wouldn’t be the last time, he did it right up until I was 23 and decided not to have him in my life.

My friends hated my step dad, they saw how he treated me. On one occasion when I was about 15 I was outside with some of them down the road from my house and my step dad came and dragged me home by my hair for no reason. That was the first time they got involved, knocking on the door threatening him with the police while I escaped out the back door. That was the time he broke my bed because he’d thrown me so hard on it the wooden frame snapped in two.

Things started to go wrong for me more when I was around 15. I dropped out of all my advanced classes, started skipping school,  had friends that were a negative influence and led me into all sorts of trouble.

My step dad tried to strangle my boyfriend once and due to my mum’s begging his parents didn’t press charges. That was a pivotal point for me. That’s when the reality of my situation hit me, things wouldn’t ever change, until I move out I would always be a victim of his violence. 

This was when I became different,  I started drinking a lot, all the time. I started stealing, lying, whatever I could do to forget. My young naive mind back then felt that if I got into enough trouble I’d be taken away. I thought prison would be better than my life.

I did things that ruined all my friendships, lost me respect and just generally turned me into a troubled teen.

My mum fell pregnant and had my baby brother when I was 16, my step dad wasn’t around long after this. It gave my mum some renewed vigor and she divorced him, met another lovely man and they are still married now.

I got into trouble before this with the police, I went to court and my life took a new path.

I always wanted to be a journalist, I had it planned from such a young age, that changed. Getting into trouble brought me a new respect for the law…I was going to be a lawyer!

I had ashamed myself, embarrassed myself and let myself down. I was better than my actions. I had failed myself and I wouldn’t do it again.

I picked up school as much as I could, finished my GCSE’s and left school without friends and with an angry family. 

During the summer after school I got a part time job and started making new friends. I enrolled at college and was determind to enjoy the new and different home life.

I moved out when I was 17, not because things were bad but because I still felt angry with my mum for the years of suffering and because I already felt older than my years.

It took a few years after that for me to understand my mum, for the anger to fade. Now, she hates herself for what me and my brother endured, for the violence. It’s easy to see it now, when the clouds have parted but in the time she believed him, he could change and she loved him enough to have faith.

I can’t begin to know how she felt at the time and why she made the decisions she did. 

I know I wouldn’t allow the same fate for my children, I’ve witnessed and felt its effects and I hope I am stronger than what my mum was then.

I took parts of my youth and my teenage years into adulthood. I learnt very valuable lessons early on about who I wanted to be and what sort of person I am.

I could succumb to the victim I had been or I could chose to not let him win, he’d already taken so much from me I was not going to let him take more.

Thankfully I have not seen this man for around 10+ years and I don’t intend to change that.

Thank you for reading my story, depressing as it was.

Please don’t forget to pop along and read about Michelle’s  teenage years.



Brutally Honest Confessions: A Pre-Teen Me..

Today’s post is about us as children. What we were like. I was a good child, I rarely got into trouble and loved school. I was an avid reader at a young age and often would seek solace in a good book.

My dad wasn’t around much, long enough though for my mum to fall pregnant with my brother when I was 5 years old.

My Gran often tells me that I was quite a jealous sibling when my brother was born, I don’t remember this. The only thing I remember really from around that age was thinking I heard Santa’s sledge on a late night out (probably about 6pm lol) and playing in my bedroom, pretending there was a witch in my wardrobe.

Even as I got a bit older heading towards my teen years I was always good, always had the best of intentions.

My mum got a new partner, I’m not sure how old I was at the time but when I was 9 we started running pubs so lived in them.

The first pub we lived in was called The Buck in Guisborough,  nothing much really happened here. Apart from school I’d spend my days down at the local beck with a fishing net and my brother.

The next pub we lived in was called The Old Dunn Cow in Darlington.  I hated the place, the people, the school. It was too big, too much a city. I missed the countryside. I got flashed at here, in the park while my brother and I were collecting conkers. The only redeeming feature was The Dolphin Centre which is where I spent most of my time, playing on the slides, diving boards or swimming in the pools. I once cut my foot when I was living here and remember having to go around the hospital in a wheelchair until they checked for glass and stitched me up. I still have the scar.

The next pub I lived in was in Coulby Newham called The Smithy. I didn’t particularly like the school or location but I made some great friends here, ones I’m still in touch with.

We spent hours playing bands in the garage, singing and dancing. It was always fun. I got my first crush when I was living here, on a friend called Mark lol.

One day we decided that we all wanted to set up a cafe. Me with my bright ideas thought we should use the spare kitchen in the flat above the pub, we decided that we could have people sit on the garage roof which led out through the Patio door from the kitchen.

We had it all planned. We bought sausages and alsorts. However…been only 10 we had no idea what we were doing and promptly set fire to a chip pan. Luckily my mum put it out in time to not cause any serious damage. Lesson learnt…I was not going to run a Cafe on top of a pub at the age of 10.

After we moved from here we stopped running pubs and lived in a little house in Skelton. It was at this point that my life started taking a very different turn.

I was around 10 when I first witnessed my step dad been awful to my mum, verbally abusing her in an argument in the car. Me being me I didn’t like it and mouthed at him, I didn’t like what he was saying, how he was calling her names. That was the first time he was physically and verbally violent to me. The last time wouldn’t occur until 6 years later.

We ended up leaving that house due to neighbours complaining about him, he attitude. They all knew what he was like but didn’t do anything. I also found out when we lived here that he use to smoke a lot of drugs to calm him down, apparently I had an attitude problem. I didn’t,  I just refused to back down to a bully.

When I was about 12 my teacher noticed bruising all over my thighs and side during P.E.  At that point social services were contacted. Not once did anyone speak to me or ask about anything. They just went to the house to warn him not to hurt me that was it. One visit, a visit which just resulted in another beating for me. 

I once remember catching him hurting my mum, I thought he would kill her, she was walking down the stairs and he flung a washing machine down after her, it knocked her down the stairs and pinned her to the ground. My brother would hide in his bedroom, luckily he never got physically hurt but watching the violence has scared him still until this day.

During this period I still did well at school, school was my sanctuary, my safe place and when I couldn’t be here I was with my Gran, who despite offering help and advice to my mum couldn’t really do much more. She despised my step dad as much as I did. 

What I’ve wrote makes my life sound terrible but there were some days of joy in among it all, trips out, meals, special times that were good. It wasn’t all bad. Admittedly it got a lot worse once I hit about 13 but that is a story for another time.

One thing I’ve taken away from my childhood is strength. I will never be in a position my mother was in, I will never let anyone talk down to me or be abusive whether they are man, woman or child. I am not a victim of domestic violence, I am a survivor of domestic violence:)

I’m sorry if my post feels like a bit of a downer, but anyone who knows me knows I am honest, positive and bubbly. My past does not dictate my future…but it is part of my past, a past that’s made me proud of who I am today.

Don’t forget to pop along Ugly Bug Does for Michelle’s post on today’s topic. 

Thank you for reading. 


Brutally Honest Confessions: Day To Day Stresses

For today’s instalment we asked the Facebook group what they would like to see us discuss. One of the points suggested was how we deal with day to day stresses.

Honestly it is hard to say how I deal on a day to day basis with stress as it is a contant factor. I don’t tend to overly focus on it as I feel it then gives it more control and power over me.

I do find life at times extremely difficult. I have a toddler with food and behavioural issues whilst trying to self remedy my post-natal depression. 

For me what I find is probably the biggest help is routine. Both myself and my LO are sticklers for routine. If I try to do anything different it causes a negative reaction. 

Therefore my days do sometimes feel boring and mundane and I often feel stuck in a rut however by keeping a routine for us I often find that days can much easier and we have more fun because we are both relaxed. 

As most parents know, especially ones who are stay at home parents. A childs mood heavily changes with yours. If I don’t feel great and I am in a negative mood then usually thats exactly how my LO ends up feeling, and vice versa.

Planning helps massively with this too as it gives me am outlet, something for me. On an evening once my LO is in bed and my partner is home I often unwind by reading a book or watching some TV series.

All in all it’s just about getting by, getting through each day as it arrives and reminding myself to be grateful for the good things that happen, for the fact that no matter how bad I feel my day has gone, it could be worse.

I’d love to hear how you deal with your day to day stresses.

Thanks for reading. 

The Stationery Geekette x 


Brutally Honest Confessions: Normal Women Getting By… 

Today’s post is the Truth About Pregnancy. 
In my last Truth About post I discussed what conception was like from my perspective and now I will take it to the next stage, pregnancy. 

For many women pregnancy is wonderous, it makes them glow and they love every single second of it. For others like me it is horrendous, with one problem after another from very early on.

I have always been able to tell I am pregnant within the first few weeks, mostly because from around 4 weeks gone I am horrendously ill. I don’t know why they refer to it as morning sickness because it usually occurs morning, noon and night.

With my first born I was so ill I spent most of the first 7 months in and out of hospital on a drip because I couldn’t eat or drink a thing. I remember just sleeping the days away hoping it would end.

Every little smell set me off been violently ill, some smells I still cannot be around or it invokes that nauseous feeling again.

I dreaded following pregnancies for this exact reason. With my 2nd child morning sickness only lasted around 4 months and it was 6 months with my last child, luckily I didn’t need to be hospitalised for it much with the last two.

Even when the sickness starts to wear off things didn’t get much better. Then comes the awful heartburn that just will not let up despite drinking pints of antacid, then there is the spd…Oh spd is great. I mean having your partner having to dress you be cause you’re in agony is so dignified.

You’re massive, can’t see your feet,  wearing a brace to keep your pelvis in place and need to walk with a crutch. Marvellous! 

Don’t get me wrong,  being pregnant is amazing. Afterall you are growing another human, it is bound to effect you in so many ways.

I just wish that people would be more open about the issues thar can come with it. The sickness, the spd, the constant thrush, the piles, having a cold and not been able to even have a lemsip.

Too many times I see pregnancy glossed over, talk of wonderful hair, glowing skin, no weight gain except a tiny perfect bump. The realities for most of us are very different. 

I love my children with all my heart and I have struggled to give them life, not just with the pain of labour but the pain of pregnancy. 

I’ve earned that spot in their home when I’m old and decrepit!

I was the perfect image of a pale skinned, greasy haired, overly massive pregnant woman wearing a brace, crutches and looking stressed 🙂

Thank you for reading another BHC and please get in touch at if you’d like to discuss any topics.

Emma x


Brutally Honest Confessions: A Letter To A Loved One.

To My Darling Partner,

Let me start by saying this, you my love are more than my partner. You are my lover, best-friend, soulmate and my world.

Our road so far has been bumpy. We were thrown into a stressful and life changing situation early into our relationship,  before we really had the chance to grow together and get to know each other properly. 
We’ve had plenty of arguments over the years, ones at times I have feared would end what we have. However, 3 years on we are still here and despite the up’s and down’s and the fact you can drive me crazy I wouldn’t change any of it.

We’ve had issues, issues we have both had to adapt too but these are ours, part of our story of what makes us, us.

We are strong together, just look at what we have achieved.

You are my safeplace, you are my insanity, you make my dark days light and bring colour into my world. You are the star shining brightly in a sky full of night and without you my world as I know it would cease to exist.

Thank you, thank you for being my rock, enduring my temper, the changes I’ve gone through and mostly for loving me in spite of myself.

I want you to know regardless how life progresses and the twists it takes, when I enviably forget to tell you… I love you, not just with my heart but with my mind and my soul.



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Brutally Honest Confessions: Normal Women Getting By…

Hello! Welcome to another new blog series/segment and collaboration. 

The lovely Michelle over at UglyBugDoes came to me with a suggestion for a new blog collaboration which I really loved.

The idea behind this collaboration is for us to post things about life, what it’s like as a normal, average woman trying to get by in life.

The topics will be everything from the discussion of conception, life with children, girly issues, recipes and anything between. 

We really want to write these posts with some brutal honesty, instead of covering everything in sugar and want to remain non judgemental to those who struggle.

We want to write what life is really like, the good, the bad and the downright ugly.

People may not agree with some things we write, it won’t always fall into your way of thinking, but we are all different and have different ways of trying to just get by day to day.

We will have some sense of structure to our posts.  Every fortnight we will release a post regarding children, starting with conception and right the way through covering all topics (pregnancy, newborn etc).

Then every other week will be something else whether that is about make-up, cooking, career, books, films etc. 

We are quite happy to take point from our readers, if you have topics you want us to cover or would like to write to us then please do so on the email below, if you wish to remain anonymous please say this also as we will do so.

Please feel free to join our Facebook Group for updates and general ranting banter:)

Now the intro is done here is my first post:)

So today I am going to discuss the miracle of my “whoopsie” conception. 

Not every story of pregnancy, birth and raising a child starts with a plan…the trying for a baby stage, ovulation tracking, the misery of the failed attempts. Some stories start with an accident,  a whoopsie moment or in my case failing to take your pill – not lots…just one!

Even though I refer to what happened as a whoopsie it doesn’t mean it is any less miraculous than those baby’s that are planned.

December 2013, the month and year that changed my life. I was happily working in a brand new job I loved and was treated with respect, I had met a man who I clicked with and really felt was my soulmate and my other two older children were really happy. Everything was going perfect.

I had no interest in having a baby, I hadn’t planned to ever be pregnant again, I already had everything I needed.

Then BOOM it all changed. When I found out I was pregnant I honestly didn’t know how to feel. Was I Happy, sad, scared, fearful? Yes, I was everything…you name it I felt it.

How would my partner of 3 months react?

How would my children feel?

Would I keep my new lovely job?

Would I get very sick again?

Am I crazy?

My partner and I had only been together 3 months and we had just moved in together with his brother. Even though I worked with him previously and we had known each other for a while it was still new.

I didn’t know how this would work. Everything felt so complicated. 

Having a termination was never a consideration, it was never a thought. This baby was going to happen and my partner was ecstatic, one less thing to worry about.

The kids were overjoyed…another thing not to worry about.

The sickness kicked in…urgh….

Everything would be ok, I’d raised children before,  I knew what it would entail…it’d be a breeze right? Yes, lets all laugh in unison at that statment!

Just because this baby wasn’t planned didn’t make it any less special back then in those early days I didn’t realise how much of a life changing Miracle this baby was going to be, if I had I would have never doubted myself so much.

So this is my story…my conception. Not all candles and Barry White. The reality of missing contraception and fear!

Thank you for reading and remember to pop along to UglyBugDoes for Michelle’s post:)

Emma-Louise x