Although I wasn’t born there, most of my childhood memories lie within the small town of Burgess Hill in West Sussex. It’s been a while without it, but with more than twenty years spent there it’ll always be like my first love. And just like a first love, it’s coined with nostalgia. Some bits you recollect with smiles, whilst others you care to forget. Nevertheless, it was my first, and probably my only, place that I could really call ‘home’.
Since those days of shooting hoops after school and playing knock-down ginger, life has dealt many unique cards for me. The assorted deck as a teenager gave me a best friend in the form of Ellen, a penchant for the blonde singer in G4, a bizarre illness that rendered me homebound for many years and the endless love from my ever supportive mum, who no matter what hand I’ve had since, has always been in the mix.
For many years it felt like I was living in a re-run of Groundhog Day, which is rather ironic, and things seemed reluctant to change.
A strangely awkward Sacha donning a Trivium hoodie meandered through the endless halls of St Paul’s Catholic College. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the wisest choice of clothing, but 16-year-old me totally rocked the long black hair and thick eyeliner emo look. As face-palmingly daft as that image looked though, that was when the woman I am today began to emerge. I loved Philosophy and Psychology, and would spend the majority of my time dissecting people’s behaviours and experiences in order to try and make sense of the ever-changing world around me. But after many agonising days spent raking over such collated thoughts, I soon realised something: People are bonkers. Good and bad. Me included (especially me, actually. I’m pretty weird.) But it was this way of thinking that meant I had no choice but to write it all down. Whether that was in essays at University, poetry in my journals or expressed through silly teenybopper blogs, every emotion and lesson was noted. And although it was put on a back-burner after the loss of my Grandparents, leaving university to study journalism, becoming unsettled at writing reports so much so that I indulged in a sports car and decided to move home, twice, in two years, that lust for life and curious nature still dwells within me.
So with mid-life crisis over by the time I’d reached 25, ticking as many life experiences off a metaphorical checklist as a pensioner, I decided that I would take a break from the chaos and do the one thing that comes naturally to me – write.
Many cups of tea were had too. I always need a good caramel brownie tea to stimulate the old noggin. Or a green tea…I still can’t believe I received no tea for Christmas this year. Utter madness!