As a child I wanted to be an actor, but things were difficult at home when I was growing up. I became a tearaway and, before I knew it, I was 16 and pregnant. My parents nearly had a heart attack. I’d done my GCSEs and wanted to do my A-levels. For support, I joined a local young mums’ group, but when I mentioned I wanted to keep studying, the midwife told me: “There’s no way you’ll be able to do it. If you want to go into education you should do a cooking course and then one day you’ll make a good wife to a divorcee.”
It really riled me up. It was like a red rag to a bull. I was like: that’s it, I’m doing this. That moment set me on my long journey into education. I got a flat for me and my daughter. I couldn’t afford the internet or a computer, but it was quiet and I was able to work without any drama. It was tough. I would have a one-year-old on one arm and be studying using the other. It was a half-hour drive to college and then a half-hour walk because I couldn’t afford to park nearby. But the thing that kept me going was when I returned home every day and I could see what my daughter’s future might look like. That made me get up every day and go.
