2003

In 2003, over the Christmas period, I found myself inexplicably homeless. Inexplicable because I had been with my then partner for the best part of a decade, we lived together, I was 5 months pregnant with our second child, and couldn't conceive a situation whereby we would split. Ever.


He had chosen my pregnancy as the perfect time to conduct an affair. With someone who would have been in primary school when we first met.

The discovery was painful, but the lies that surrounded his deception were so much worse. That was what really destroyed me, that I could have been with someone for so long and yet they could so casually and effectively pick me to pieces.

When I asked him how he would feel if the same were done to my replacement, the cruelty that he had shown towards me was forgotten, and the pain that showed on his face was genuine and obvious. He would never want her to hurt like I was. He did not care that I was in such a horrific situation. His one concession to my discomfort was that I "couldn't even have a drink as I was pregnant". His concern was with his new partner and how they could be together.

Of course I tried to bargain with him. I cajoled him. I begged him. He said he would call it off with her. I spoke about getting a flat in another location; he said get it and then I will come later. He hadn't split with her. He never intended to come with me. It was all lip service, and his concern was to preserve his "rights" and those of his family, rather than treating me and his unborn child with even a modicum of respect. I would still have given anything to stay with him, even though I knew I didn't love him and hadn't for years, even though I was with him only because I was scared of being alone, even though I knew he could never commit to me or our son.

I knew that he had slowly destroyed who and what I was and what I stood for. Under his control, with his constant passive aggression directed at me, with his verbal jibes, I became someone I disliked and didn't want to be. I had been just as emotionally violent and manipulative towards him. We were destroying each other in bitterness and unpleasantness.

It was a horrible Christmas, where I went from one sofa to another, with no one really wanting me to stay with them seeing ad I was so pregnant and frankly really quite mental.

I tried to find somewhere to stay, but no one wanted to take me, the baby and the cat, and I couldn't leave my girl behind. I was desperate, and sinking into a heavy depression.

In the meantime I paid my share of rent, co habited with him for a time as he brought her back to our flat and I cried myself to sleep. More sofas followed, and I thought I was going mad.

I never considered for a moment making him leave our flat - as I chose to make myself homeless, regardless of the intolerability if my situation, I wasn't entitled to any assistance or help. I was, quite literally, screwed. There was no choice but to help myself, and take a dingy, cold, unheated second floor flat above a shop, where the tenant downstairs dealt drugs an ha constant parties, where the people next door banged the metal gate underneath my flat's bedroom, where I would cry myself to sleep every night without fail.

I was lonely, I was terrified and I wanted to die. I used to plan how I could do it, and the only thing that kept me grasping on to reality was the fact that I refused to be beaten, because as someone I know pointed out to me a few months back, I am an obstinate and stubborn sow.

I was homeless for a time, but I was fortunate enough that I could afford to find myself somewhere to live. Admittedly it was grotty, but it was mine, I had the key to the door and no one could get in an out without my permission. I was lucky to be safe. I was lucky to have a job. I was lucky to not only be about to meet my future, but to be giving birth to my future and have something tangible and real.

And on those nights that I sobbed, on those nights when re baby wouldn’t stop crying, on the days when I had to decide which days I would eat that week, I never forgot that we had a roof over our head, The Boy always had what he needed but most importantly that we were safe. I remember, when The Boy was a month or so old, seeing a programme about kids that lived from rubbish tips, who had no parents, only each other, where the head of the group was 7 years old. I held my boy close to me and wept. It was the first time that I held him without fear, the first time that I kissed him because it suddenly struck me that everything I was doing was going through the motions with him. I knew then that, regardless of how bad things may get, always, always we would have each other, and that despite my insanity would never change.

It's a sad fact that many others are not this lucky. They will spend Christmas in situations that any decent human being would not find to be tolerable conditions.

These will be people from all walks of society, from all genders, and from all familial structures.

There is something you can do. You could start caring a bit more about everything and everyone around you. You could notice the dude you see every morning on the way to work, bring him a sandwich or just say hello. You could motivate yourself to buy the Big Issue. You could donate to Shelter, you could donate to Crisis, you could go help at a soup kitchen. You could donate to charities that help re-house long term homeless people. You could give your money. You could give your sandwich. You could give your time.

Most importantly, you could give a damn, and see how very, very lucky you are that it isn't you.