I have been having a bit of a crap time lately, I’ve not told many of you, I don’t know why. However a wise someone recently very accurately pointed out that this blog is merely an online journal to which people can add comments to, so I thought now was a good time to tell this page about myself.
One of the (many) things that have been bringing me down is how little people know about me, anyone who reads this page included. So I shall begin.
I was born Nikita Elizabeth on the 15th June 1989, 15 days late. My mum was unable to deliver me and it took that long for the doctors to realise that maybe I needed a little help in there, and so I was brought into the world by caesarean section at about 22:10pm.
I was my parents first child so naturally my birth was everywhere, The Guernsey Press and The Hampshire Chronicle included. I was barely awake when at three weeks I made my first trip to my ‘homeland’ of Southampton, Southern England. Since that day I have made 54 trips, 108 flights on various airlines, Manx airways, KLM, BA, Jersey European, AirUK and Flybe to name a few – I don’t even have a frequent traveller card!
My birth prompted a move – 3 houses up the road! From a top floor flat to a Victorian terrace. The next four years of my life were quite boring really, aside from an incident during which I was dropped down the stairs, causing my shoulder to become dislocated – I’ll never let my mum forget that!
When I was four ‘mis padres’ decided that I wasn’t enough and so my sister, Jemma was born in July of 1993, things started to go downhill. My father had an affair and moved out prompting a move back to my mother’s place of birth, Southampton. Here we stayed for a little under a year before we transferred back and I moved to Amherst primary school. My parents were then happily separated for 8 years, my dad became a weekend father and I was his from 10am-2pm on a Saturday. When she was old enough Jemma came too.
Like everything this story has an exception, when I was 10 my parents had a brief moment of madness and produced my second and final sister Emily in November of 1999. This caused my fathers long-term relationship to end and I helped him to move to his own place, after a large and scary boxing day fiasco, the details of which you will have to ask since they aren’t pretty, if you want to. Anyway here my father stayed until he moved to my Grans house, to which he built a ‘bachelor-esque’ extension on the side of, it is here I visit so often to get away or to get pissed.
But wait I have missed a large event, the final divorce of my parents, one month after my 12th birthday, this ended any long-holding dreams is might have of any sort of ‘re-joining’ of my parents.
There are select events that I have left out so far – those who want to know will have to ask on MSN as right now I don’t think I can publicly declare them to everyone at once, individually I can do it I think, but whatever.
As my father was only cohabiting with my mother during my early years, I have the best relationship with him out of all of my sisters, as should be expected. It is my father whom I have fun with, my mother who guides me through the trials and tribulations of being a teenage girl. The bond between Jemma and Emily with my mum is stronger – they were solely her children, not my fathers, besides I forgave my adulterous father a little too quickly for her liking I think.
I go out with my father every Saturday now, and whenever I can, it’s not a perfect relationship but what relationship is? He teaches me how to survive in the big world and he has been through a lot, his life-experience is immense. Many of my friends are adults, male and female though predominantly male, I met them on those Saturdays in the pub, I was Martyn’s cute little daughter. They are the ones who make me laugh and who teach me what I must be like when I’m pissed! Some people think that my fathers actions during my early years were irresponsible – not me, I value them, if I ever need anyone I have someone, many of the men and some women are, like my dad, security guards as well as their regular jobs, so I am always safe.
I think that the things I’ve been through with my dad have made me so much more emotionally mature than many of my (school) friends, I know that shit happens to everyone and how it happens – a good start in life I think.
I doubt this post’ll help me but it does let you know how I came to be who I am, even if none of you were real then at least this page knows me, Nikita.
Thanks and keep living love
Nikita, Niki etc.