Friday, 12 November 2010



When I was young all I wanted to do was run away, live in another country. I was obsessed with being independent.

I was convinced by others not to leave school and not to move out at sixteen - told that it wouldn’t be in my best interests.

At eighteen I was asked if I wanted to go to the other side of the world and live in Australia. I said yes.

For me it was an experience I prefer not to remember. I'm not sure why as it helped me grow so fast it was unbelievable. The short few months felt like a lifetime. Something I had spent a long summer planning and my whole life dreaming about went completely wrong.
From the other side of the world where I knew no one, had no family, I felt lost. I think back now and it seemed a shame, Australia was never a country I dreamed of running away to, it was the idea of adventure that pulled me in more. I wish I had looked at the experience differently, travelled and enjoyed my time rather than trying to make a life out there.
When I came back I knew exactly what I wanted - to be in London. When I got back to Heathrow at 5am, we drove back to the Isle of Wight. I remember hoping the jet lag wouldn't hit me as I had big plans. My friends from school had all gone to college and I wondered if I should have gone too. However I couldn’t help but think my life would be completely different if I hadn't left for Australia.