When I Moved to Derby
When I was deciding what to do with my life, I wanted to be a beautician. To me, it was glamourous and I wanted (and still want) to be one of those people who always look polished. I was consistently told that I was too smart, but I still ended up going on my work experience to the local beauty college. Once there several things put me off, so in fairness, it is a good job that I went. One of the things that stands out the most to me is one afternoon I was having a massage (how luxurious) and a little old lady was having electrolysis on her face in the cubicle next door. Electrolysis is where you have a small electrical current zapped into any unwanted hair so that it withers away and never grows back. Just at the point where I was my most relaxed there was a voice from the girl who was performing the electrolysis next door. "I can't get rid of those hairs, they are growing out of a mole" My heart began beating so hard I thought you would be able to see it through my ribcage, I had a cold sweat and I felt a little bit queasy as I was imagining that this old lady had massive, thick black hairs growing out of a ginormous mole on her face. I imagined she was some sort of modern-day witch, and that kind of put me off being a beautician. This was not the only thing I heard or saw in those two weeks, but that was the turning point. I never even saw that litle old lady, but the damage was done so...
After seeing the mental images I had, I found I wasn't that keen on doing beauty anymore. I was at a bit of a loss of what to do. We kept having seminars and meetings at school about how, if we could, we should go to University. I never had a plan of what I wanted to be, like most of my friends at the time. Even now I struggle between two lives I would like, and I always take a long time to make small decisions, never mind big life-changing ones.The problem is with any ideas I have is that I have too many ideas all at once. This is what it was like even back then. All I knew was that I needed to get out. Out of my parents house, out of Birmingham. A fresh start. I was terribly unsure of myself at school. I was quiet, shy and unpopular. I knew I needed a new place to be where I could figure out who I wanted to be without all the comments from people I grew up with, and without the watchful eye of my parents. I smoked back then, and none of my friends knew. That sounds ridiculous now, that they wouldn't have accepted me still, but I thought that they wouldn't. I was so unsure of myself that I thought they wouldn't want to be friends with me if they had found out. Who knows, maybe they wouldn't have. They are all still friends now, and we did try to continue to be friends after I left, but to be honest, I don't think they liked the new me. I drank more, I had more friends, I actually stood up for myself and this was so different to the person I had been before that we drifted apart. I go through different feelings on this. One day I will be fully up for deleting them from my social media, calling them out on how bitchy everything was back then, and the next day I want to reach out, to meet up and to attempt to reconcile our differences. I do feel that I am better off without them, now I look back, I went along with whatever they wanted to do, and I never stood up for myself. This meant that the majority of them took advantage and either spread secrets (one told everyone in my year that I wore a wonderbra when I didn't) and the rest fell out with me if I didn't do what they wanted. So I am definitely better off without them.
After I moved, I had so much freedom. I could have people over whenever I wanted (I didn't have people over very often as my mum was always worried what people might have thought of our house) I could do whatever I wanted, once (after a heavy night of drinking) I even slept for over 15 hours. I must admit I went overboard on the drink for a while. At one point I would be out every night of the week. I don't even know how I survived. I still managed to buy food, and keep myself clean, and still managed to fit in uni work, a job and drinking every night. I don't know how I used to get up and actually function in the morning. I don't know how, but one day I decided that I had enough of all that. Now when I think about all of the things I must have got up to, I am embarrassed. I can't even imagine myself at all being as drunk as I used to be. I very rarely drink, not even a quiet glass of wine with dinner. Maybe that's because I have a 3 day hangover on the rare occasions that I do drink, or maybe I got bored of being drunk. It's probably a good job, because my liver would have been pickled by now.
After all the rush of moving and packing, we finally crammed my Dad's car full of my life and took the 45 minute drive to Derby. I enrolled, confirmed I had all of my jabs and nonsense like that and went over to my dorms. I still live nearby, and I am glad I do. I love the area, and best of all it's a quick 20 minute walk into town for when I am broke before payday.
After taking what felt like a million trips up and down stairs to move in my stuff, and an awkward goodbye with my parents. My Dad also felt the need to give a half-hearted sex talk which involved him saying "No Babies" and I was free, finally. And I felt sad. I felt lost. For a moment I felt like I didn't know what to do. That bare room was anything but comforting. So I unpacked some things, I put the few tins of food into my designated cupboard and my tired unfashionable clothes in the tiny wardrobe. The last thing I did was make my bed. And I put the kettle on. Suddenly I didn't feel so lost after all.
