Story Time+Advice

June 2011, the period of time I moved into the ymca…probably the biggest mistake of my life if I’m honest. I’d not long turned 18, and I’d got back with a guy I’d been in a bad relationship previously (he cheated on me multiple times and even though I had the evidence in front of him he still denied it. But me being an idiot I took him back again for a THIRD time!) my mum and stepdad didn’t want R anywhere near the house, they hated him for how he treated me before and rightly so! They couldn’t stop me seeing him as obviously I was old enough to make my own choices, but they could stop him coming into their house. Now because of this, our relationship got a bit strained because we had nowhere we could go- his parents were very strict and old fashioned in the sense that I wasn’t allowed to stay over their house and if I did visit his bedroom door wasnt allowed to be closed. At the time my cousin was living in the ymca and suggested I applied for a flat there so that myself and R could actually spend evenings together. I applied behind my mums back. Much to my surprise I was offered a flat about 2 hours after my interview, and would be allowed to move in within ten days. I can’t remember how I told my mum…I think I text her if I’m honest, because I hate confrontation like that. I don’t think she was best pleased, neither was my Nan really but they both still helped and supported me like buying little things like a kettle etc. Because at the time I didn’t have a job, my rent was only something like £3 a week and I just had to pay for electric and tv license which I think my mum or Nan might of actually paid for upfront. 

At first, I kinda liked the idea of having my own space. It was a studio flat, so you’d walk in the front door, on the left was a wet room/toilet, and straight ahead was then a large room to be used as a bedroom and living room, with a reasonably good sized kitchen at the end on the left. I was on the first floor at the front of the building- I requested not to be on the ground floor as I’d worry about people getting in through my windows lol. I unpacked my stuff, moved the room round to how I wanted it, put some posters up…it actually looked really homely and nice. 

This however didn’t last long. 

The ymca was full of inconsiderate arseholes who would play music stupidly loud or smoke so much weed it would make the whole place stink, and they’d get steaming drunk and end up in fights or smashing windows etc. The ymca was not a safe nice place. R then got a flat on the ground floor, but he basically moved into my flat…and proceeded to totally mess it up. He wouldn’t clean up after himself at all, he’d invite his friends over and let them do whatever they wanted…only one of his mates Lee would actually offer to help tidy up or do simple things like ask for a drink or take his plate into the kitchen…the rest would just help themselves to the food and drink that I had bought and just add to R’s mess. My depression got to the stage where I didn’t see the point in tidying etc because it’d only get messed up, so the once tidy homely flat became an absolute tip. Then even after myself and R had split up I hated being there so much that I still didn’t see the point…especially as my heating didn’t work and I went 3 months or more with no hot water coming from my shower- I either had to wash in the sink or go down the corridor to my cousins heat and use her shower. I was so desperately unhappy there. I tried to take my life there. The ymca was not a nice part of my life. Don’t get me wrong, there are a handful of good memories from there, more so of after myself and R had split up because I came out of my shell a bit and would actually go downstairs to the communal room and made some friends which I wasn’t able to do while with R because he always accused me of fancying any bloke I so much as glanced at (rich coming from the serial cheat but hey ho!). I eventually got a job again but this meant that my rent went up…then when I got a job as a support worker my rent was going to go up to around £500 a month…£500 a month for a freezing cold flat I hated. Luckily, an old family friend told me that the house share he was in needed one more person as someone had recently moved out, so I was able to finally get out of the ymca after almost a year. 


I wish I had stayed at home with my mum; we probably would of got on better and not ended up falling out majorly eventually (we didn’t speak for around 2 years, but when I fell pregnant we got our relationship as mother and daughter back on track), and I could of saved myself so much money- my mum never asked rent even when I had a job, she didn’t even make me buy my own food. But no instead I moved into a shitty hostel with an even shittier boyfriend and spent all my money on trying to keep him happy whether it was with take away food or the newest Xbox game…I once bought him a new Gears Of War Xbox controller and the new game just because I thought he might be a bit nicer to me etc if I got it for him. Instead he ended up selling it not long after. There was also one say we had gone out to a pub, and he was using my bank card at the bar every time…the receipts added up to about £95 just on alcohol for us both. I don’t think he bought even one round of drinks- but again I done it to keep him happy and to not cause arguments. 


My advice to anyone around 18, is to stay at home with your parents as long as you can, it is so much easier living with parents. Yes they may well have rules, but in the long run it will save you so much money for your future. Just seriously think about the consequences before moving. I also highly recommend never moving into a hostel like ymca unless you are 100% desperate to- they’re often home to a lot of drug users and just generally nasty people and the staff don’t police anything properly so people get away with all sorts. Don’t be so quick to move out of the ‘family home’ if you don’t need to. Trust me, I wish i never left home because from the age of 18 I have moved 11 times with 2 homeless sofa surfing stints amongst it! 


🔹immeamy, you’re you, and that’s the best way to be🔹


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