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When growing up, my sister and her friends made my village life hard, I was so self conscious about my appearance because they’d find any excuse to be mean. Then, at 16 I started to wear vintage clothes, I wore bell bottoms, platform shoes, bra tops and heavy eyeliner
This was the early 90s, nobody dressed like that. I remember being at McDonald’s in Oxford and someone fell up the stairs and dropped their tray because they were staring at me, I liked it, I liked being different, standing out in a crowd
I had two jackets, a leather mid length one and a beautiful checked winter jacket lined with faux sheepskin, both had been my uncles from the 70s and both were my favourite things of all
One day I was wearing the checked jacket with vintage bell bottoms and was sneaking into the local pub with a mate. In the car park one of my sisters friends saw me and he said “Ha! What the fuck are you wearing?” This was standard behaviour from him because he was a wanker
Before, that would have sent me home crying, I’d have never worn the jacket again, conformed to their standards, but not this time, or anymore, I’d grown into who I am now, I’d found my voice, so I looked him in the face and replied “clothes, you twat” and continued walking
Now reader, this may not sound like much to you, but it was one of the most pivotal moments of my life, I felt total ownership of myself, I’d finally beaten them, how they’d treated me made me who I am today, I never want others to feel how they’d made me feel, I chose kindness
All through my adult life this single episode has helped shape how I handle myself, I lost my way through oppression for many years, but in my 40s I’ve found it again. I’m proud of who I am, I know who I am and my word do I have the scars to prove it
What thing I wondered as I lay in bed last night, was it that linked these two Poppy’s? Well the conclusion I came to is me being single, I am happier on my own, I know who I am, there’s nobody I need to answer to, I can just be me and oh my goodness is that liberating
The moral of this story? Be yourself, you know who you are and no matter what others say about you, you are good enough, you are brilliant, no matter how different to the “norm” you are. In fact I’d go as far as to say being different is the best thing of all
