So born in Sutton Coldfield, I was born in to a happy home with my Mum and step-father in A little place called Streetly, life was good, lovely big home, big garden for me to play football in, great school life. It was kind of a village, but more built up. I wouldn’t quite call it village life.
At the age of 9, my mum and step-father separated, so me and my mum moved. We went a mile and a half down the road to an area called Great Barr. It was OK, but more busy, and I didn’t like it as much as where I was bought up.
As the weeks, months, years went on, I made friends, understood that I could still school in Streetly (luckily) and still stay friends with the same kids. I’d ride my bike up to Streetly, catch the bus or walk, stay out until late at night, sit outside the butchers in the street just chatting until it was time to catch the bus home.
All of this felt safe enough, I was mugged once of my phone and necklace my dad had bought me, but soon got over it and carried on.
It was also safe for me at 15 to catch a train from Birmingham to Leicester alone, it still feels that way, as I’m seeing kids much younger travel from place to place alone. I often look at kids that age and wonder if I really looked that young back then…
Anyway, back on track..so I was then 15, me and my mum wasn’t getting along, and it became apparent I should move in with my Dad. I moved to a small town in South Birmingham called Shirley. This felt OK, again, much different to the previous two places I’d lived, but sure I’d adapt soon.
I did, my dad still drove me 13 miles to school and back, he’d pick me up from my friends in the evening, and I even got a job cleaning a hotel…
Again, theres always a nobhead to ruin your great experiences and throw snowballs at you unexpectidely…as they were children, you cant really throw back just incase the snowball has a pebble in and you end up going down for murder…so “f*** off you little s***” seemed more appropriate.
Anyhow, again, circumstances arose, and I ended up moving to Leicestershire with my boyfriend. We lived way into the countryside in a lovely bungalow in Woodhouse Eaves, Loughborough. It was stunning out there, cottages everywhere, a lovely little pub, with cowhide seats and the smell of a burning log fire, even in the summer nights, I’d move back tomorrow if I had the chance.
A lot of Leicestershire is completed by gorgeous countryside and villages, ive lived in Blackfordby also, a bit too quiet for me, but again a beautiful location.
Moving again, 2 hours down the road to a town called March in Cambridgeshire, at the age of 24, I could appreciate different places more than I used to. We lived right on the river Nene, I’d be sat in the living room watching the boats go by, and the cyclists going past on their little bikes with baskets on. All felt a bit strange, I felt this was completely different to living in the Midlands. I loved it here.
Two years on, we moved again, yes…again! Just a 15 minute drive down the road to a tiny village called Manea. Now this was a gamechanger, it had one small, overpriced village shop and a little pub..I struggled to adapt. It was also oil ran instead of gas, which was all a bit odd too. We have a tank in our back garden that you could only describe as a round submarine with no windows. After two years of living here, I’m now comfortable. The village school is great, Ive made lots of great friends, and tge country views are to die for. Perfect for running! Manea kind of reminds me of one of those American films, where people go storm chasing and the land is completely flat for miles.
I’l pop some links below to some of the areas I’ve lived in..some good, some bad…
Hannah SC x