From Cocaine to Carrot cake

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A childhood that ended before it's time. A reflection of years gone by. A honest view of growing up in the eighties and nineties.

Submitted: January 17, 2017

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Submitted: January 17, 2017



My mother once said to me whilst we were discussing sex and boys, that if a boy wanted me to do something with him 'sexually', I should always use my hand or my mouth but never let him put anything 'down there'!
I remember thinking at the time that this was a disgusting thing to ever have to do. I was twelve when this conversation took place and by the time I hit thirteen, I found my self perched on a bathroom sink, with one foot on the radiator and the other resting on a bath, my knickers torn to the side and one of my bothers friends entering me with such force, that I couldn't stop crying. I'll never forget the shelf above that bathroom sink bruising my tiny back as this boy pushed into me. We were at a house party. I was out of my depth and I liked it. Not the most pleasant of experiences and each time I cried for him to stop, he just kept saying 'you'll be ok, you'll be ok' and then suddenly it was over. 
That very same night I'd smoked cannabis through a Coke can and drank my body weight in diamond white cider, which looking back was probably the reason I'd consented to sex in the first place. 
I knew that other girls thought this way of loosing ones virginity was sad. It wasn't special in the slightest. I'd done it with someone I hardly new and didn't care about. But I didn't see it that way at all. I felt like a woman. All grown up and now I was an adult. 
It wasn't the first time I'd smoked pot and certainly not the first time I'd drank alcohol. But this night changed me far more than I could ever know. Drugs, sex and rock n roll were the future. And I wanted as much of this as my thirteen year old body could take without dying. 
The year was 1990 and I was about to start the most crazy 25 years of my life.....
My friends would say to me at the grand old age of fifteen, that I had to stop using my dad leaving my mum, my brother and I as an excuse for my slutty behaviour. I don't remember using this as an excuse but I guess I must have. 
My father leaving had broken my heart beyond repair, I suffered an abnormal amount of sadness and didn't really get over his leaving until I was well into my late 30's which is pretty ridiculous but very true. 
I was totally out of control by age fourteen and spent many a night with gentleman at least ten to twenty years older than me. All I wanted was the attention and if I was lucky, a room for the night and a cuddle. 
In those days I was glass collecting in a bikers bar in Liverpool after school and at the weekends. I was often left with no where to sleep after the pub shut. My plan was always to offer sex, and hopefully end up with somewhere warm to stay and a cuddle if I was lucky. Anything to temporarily heal the hole I could physically feel in my heart. I never really examined why I was so promiscuous, it was just what I did and it was working for me.
I very quickly learnt what I had to do to get a mans attention and I didn't care how dangerous each situation was. 
I was fearless, had my own money, my own drugs and at age fifteen I was beautiful, and I knew most men couldn't resist me. Life was crazy and I loved every second. At least that's what I told myself.....

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