Happy At Last.

I have been reflecting on my life a lot recently. I have been looking back on those years from the 90s when I was constantly fleeing violence, in and out of hostels, struggling to be a parent, and struggling with my mental health.

In those days I went through a lot of pain. I didn't know myself, and I had no idea what a stable, happy, family life was, yet I continued to try to build myself back together for the sake of my children, and I was heartbroken when they were taken from me.

One thing I knew back then, and still know for sure is that I did not deserve to have my children taken from me.

I deserved to be helped with settling down properly and rebuilding my life, I deserved to be allocated safer housing via the council, and I deserved justice for what happened to me and my children.

I still experience fear, nightmares, and flashbacks from those horrid events, but I learned something from my past.

I can let my horrible past beat me, leading to a more unsafe, insecure, and unhappy life, or I can try to cope with the memories by living in the present moment.

I chose to live for today, not yesterday or before it; because those days might forever haunt me, but I deserve to enjoy my life.

I realized that the perpetrators of the abuse are the only ones who should be suffering, not me.

Sadly, all of the people who perpetrated the abuse against me got away with it, because in those days it was very difficult to prove abuse, and the legal system did not deal with it appropriately.

I reflected on all the trauma I had been through, as I was happily gardening in my garden while chatting with my friends, husband, son, daughter, daughter's boyfriend, nephew, and niece.

I realized that I have never felt happier.

For the first time since I was eighteen years old, I was able to feel safe in my garden with friends and family, and I was able to feel secure in my own home.

I am not a perfect gardener, and I do not have a perfect house. I don't think that anybody does these days.

When I first met my new neighbors, I worried about being attacked and psychologically abused, as that was what I was faced with from my youth to my late adulthood.

I was also very wary because I had been a victim of domestic violence, and violence from the community no matter where I lived in the past.

My neighbors are very understanding of me. I have had a lot of issues with my garden, and they even jump in to help me when I need it. I can chat and laugh with them for hours.

My home life can be busier than the bees at times. I am also a carer for my husband who has disabilities, a writer, and an author with several upcoming books.

I do most things alone, without much help, mostly because I prefer it that way.

The only time I ask for help is when I am looking for ideas to use in my garden which has been difficult and overgrown for many years.

This was a milestone for me because I never felt confident about asking for help in the past. I was taught by many violent exes that it was wrong to ask for help and that asking for help meant that I was stupid.

Nowadays, I have no problems asking because I have learned it is okay to ask when I need help, and my friends have encouraged me.

I do not feel ashamed of it in any way!

My grandson and granddaughter came running out of the back door while I was battling the roots of a bramble bush in my garden.

Many years ago, I would have been terrified to deal with it. I'd become afraid of "doing it wrong," because I was made to feel like I did everything wrong in my violent past. This time I grabbed my garden tools and went out there with more confidence than I did when I first started.

I have even learned how to dig out a bramble ball, which I am thrilled with because I would not have been able to do this in the past.

You can read some of my stories related to this below:

Then comes decorating!

I remember 1993 when I got my first flat. I was terrified to put a piece of paper on the wall, but then came 1998 when I lived with my now-husband in a house after many years of hardship.

I finally pulled out a painting brush and decorated a room for my children, and I did it without fear.

Even after it was arranged for my children to live elsewhere, after a severe mental breakdown, I never gave up trying.

Decorating gave me something to focus on and work towards. It became a hobby of mine, especially in hard times. I failed many times, but I managed to put myself back together and keep at it.

Today, I do most of the decorating in my home. I am not perfect at it, but I am good enough for me; that is what matters the most.

I still have PTSD symptoms, but I am happy at last. Some things can be more challenging than others such as attending concerts, dealing with crowds, fires, and getting on a bus which I still need support to do, but every day I try, and every day I am finding more confidence in myself.

I hope to keep going this way.

I will continue my various activities, singing, and keep building on my writing career, and I know my confidence will keep growing.

I have a goal that many people who work find strange, and that is to get to a point where I can be a taxpayer.

I can already hear people telling me that I don't want that!

However, finding work because of my trauma has been difficult since I left school, and as a registered carer in the U.K., I don't have to work, but reaching tax-payer status in my writing career really will be the best thing that sets me free in life because it means,

I can live in the world of self-employed tax-payers, which means I will be officially with the self-employed people!

In the world of benefits, I am self-employed in theory, but before they can make it official, I have to be earning enough to pay taxes.

When I reach that status, it will be a dream come true, because it will feel more like I am working, and that means a major change for me.