Today's blog is about an important series of events that became the catalyst for my blog, 'Roaming Brit.' Ten years ago, in 2015, along with my husband Darrell, I was a victim of sustained bullying, from people who worked for one of the oldest charities in the World. This period was the most distressing and abusive time in our relationship together. Even today, I still suffer from the effects of a phase, that will forever remain a part of my psyche. I will always carry the burden of torment around with me. It was quite simply an interval, a glitch, that was responsible for a change in our circumstances, that we are still living through today, despite the memories finally fading into the background.

Bullying is something you think only occurs in childhood, but when it happens in your mid-forties, you can't believe what is actually transpiring before your very eyes. Both Darrell and I, were working alongside one another as Managers, for a large NGO on the south coast of England. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed our positions, especially working with the volunteers who worked for us. I was always taught, from an early age, to look after and protect the most vulnerable people in society. As a Manager for a charity, it was part of my remit and something I was very aware of, every day I went to work.

You can imagine my horror, when two of Darrell's paid employees, began targeting and abusing a particularly defenseless member of his volunteer team. He naturally asked me for advice. We were both in the same positions at work and as a Manager it is something we had to deal with on rare occasions. I suggested he report it as a safeguarding issue and the HR department would do the rest. I had no reason to expect anything different. Furthermore, I felt sure the organisation would do all it could to protect, the individual concerned — how wrong I was!

Not only did the charity do nothing to support Darrell or the victim, but those responsible started bullying Darrell as a result. From attacks on personal property, to homophobic abuse and attacks at work, the abuse was relentless. Darrell became ill, withdrawn, and his mental health became a source of concern. As someone who had worked for the charity longer than him, I decided to do what I could to help.

Despite doing my best to intervene, I was also dealing with a safeguarding issue at my own place of work, which was also being disregarded by my boss. Later, a former colleague also began to attack me personally, and it appeared on the surface, at least, that both of us were being singled out for protecting others.

With no support from our mutual boss, within a short space of time, we both became ill. We were advised to stay away from work, for our own health and wellbeing. Our mental health was in tatters, as we sought answers as to why nothing was being done to protect us and others. I contacted helplines and organisations who could help. I spoke with my union, ASDAW and anti bullying charities, including 'Solent Mind' based in Southampton. All of them said the same thing, we were being targeted for safeguarding others and as they dug deeper, under the surface, our sexuality was also a factor as well. I can't describe the feeling you get, when you realise you are being mistreated, for just doing the right thing. It hits you head long, like a brick in the face.

For a year we suffered, while still trying to find answers as to why we were being ignored. Despite returning to work for a brief period, in the end, just before our wedding in 2015, we both decided to pack up, sell up and leave the UK for good. Every professional organisation we talked to, said this was the right thing to do. The sociopathic nature of what we endured, would never stop until we made the decision to walk away, from the sinister nature of mistreatment we were dealing with. It took a while, but finally, after talking to family, friends and professionals, we left for a new life in Spain.

My last day at the charity was tinged with sadness, leaving the volunteers behind. We had built up a great rapport over the years, and they were a big part of my life. The Head of HR came in, to try to draw a line under this sorry chapter, and we both spoke candidly about just what had happened. She agreed the way I was treated was a disgrace, but said there wasn't much the charity could do, since its reputation was at stake. Despite knowing just how malevolent and malicious those involved had been towards us and many others, (We weren't the first) there was very little she could do. The primary person responsible was a known bully and abuser, and she had done this many times before.

​Our new life in Spain was a breath of fresh air. We had a new, strong and altruistic network of friends and colleagues and an even bigger group of Expats, who helped us begin the transition from turmoil to tranquillity. We were both as happy as we could be and loving every day again on the beautiful Costa Blanca. Smiles returned to both our faces as we finally escaped the pain we left behind.

Despite writing about my experiences as often as I could, answering emails and messages from readers who were also suffering from bullying, we both enjoyed a happy existence in Spain. I received many cries for help over the two years I was living in Gran Alacant, even from those who actually worked at the charity I once held in such high regard. These were the hardest messages to reply to, and I just gave them the advice that was given to me — Never try to beat a sociopath, you will always fail!

Personal tragedy ended our time in Spain all too quickly. While sat surrounded by packing boxes in the lounge of our villa in Puerto Marino, I received an unexpected call. The Charity Commission was investigating the charity I had worked for and wanted to hear my side of the story. I was finally given an opportunity to give mine and Darrell's side of the events that brought us to Spain; it was a vindication of everything we had gone through — finally someone was listening to us. 

I never found out the results of the enquiry. However, I finally realised that many others in the UK and further afield, had also suffered at the hands of people who had no place working with vulnerable people. I was made aware that changes would take place. Although nothing could be done to save mine and Darrell's careers, we were helping the commission compile evidence, against people who were distinctly corrupt and disturbing in nature, and for that they were truly grateful.

Since then, I haven't thought about that terrible time in 2015 too much. I do have days when the pain resurfaces, and I do suffer with severe anxiety every day, but my life is so much better now than it ever has been. In a way, the success I enjoy ten years later, is all down to the bullies who gave us such a hard time. So I suppose I should finally take the opportunity to thank them, for affording us the life we enjoy in Australia. So thank you — I hope you are also enjoying the fruits of your labour as well.

During the 30 years we have been together, neither of us have experienced blatant bullying and abuse. As I look back over our years together, it is painful to relive such painful experiences, but it was a time that made us stronger as a couple and more aware of the ugly nature of people. Not everyone in your life is good for you, and it really is up to you to kick them into the long grass and carry on living your best life. They were terribly soul-destroying months in 2015, but without them, we wouldn't be where we are today, and for that, fate gave us a second chance and a reason to exist again.

Darrell and I have just returned from the city, after spending a lazy Sunday, Christmas shopping and having lunch. This is the first time we have travelled to Perth in about two months; we have been so busy that we just haven't had the time. Of course, the CBD is now adorned with festive decorations, lights, and a large Christmas tree opposite the railway station; despite the sweltering summer heat, even I am starting to feel a little bit Christmassy!

Temperatures have been particularly hot, compared to 2023, and I am told this year's summer will be even hotter than the last — that suits me perfectly. However, I am all too aware, of the difficulties of living in Australia, in such a severe climate.

Darrell has just given up vaping. This has been hard for him since he has smoked or vaped for many years, but this time it is a case of having to!

Darrell has been diagnosed with Macular Degeneration, which in part is to do with his smoking and vaping, but also the weather here in Western Australia. With the sun incredibly bright, and without 400 UV protective sunglasses over many years, he has paid the ultimate price. Both of us are staying positive and hoping the rate of deterioration can be stemmed for now. Of course, only time will tell — weekly monitoring and regular eye tests will help — changing old habits will help a hell of a lot more!

With Christmas just two weeks away, the last Christmas card I received from Mum when she was alive is on display. I always think of my Mother at this time of year. Speaking to my Father, back home in the UK tonight, we reminisced about Christmasses past, and how much we used to enjoy them, unlike today. 

Things have changed dramatically over the years, and although I still love this time of year, it just isn't the same. Living in the Southern Hemisphere has changed my concept of Christmas. Oh, I still put up a few decorations and a tree, enjoy sending Christmas cards to friends and family, and buy presents for our nearest and dearest — that's something that will never change. However, I am aware, that for the most part, it will just be me and Darrell celebrating together — so different to years gone by. 

There won't be a large Christmas roast, just cold meats, and salad around a neighbour's house. Nobody wants to be cooking a three-course British Christmas Dinner on the 25th, least of all me. This year, I will be putting my feet up, and letting someone else do all the work. This will make a pleasant change, since I am the one who usually does it all.

Both Darrell and I remarked, earlier, how much we miss Christmas with friends in Southampton. We truly had some memorable times, with some remarkable characters; not traditional celebrations, but rather unconventional in nature, partying with like-minded individuals and enjoying the festive cheer. 

Things are very different now and that can be hard to come to terms with!

The past two weeks have been somewhat difficult if I am honest. After Darrell's news about his eyesight, I was due in hospital for a procedure, that had been planned for several months. This wasn't something I was looking forward to, but an absolute necessity, especially at my age. Thankfully, living in Australia, I didn't have to wait too long, and it was carried out quickly, without incident. Nevertheless, the procedure did throw up some concern, after two small tumours were removed.

This was completely unexpected, but after a follow-up meeting with my GP, to discuss the histology report, I was hopeful it wasn't anything to worry about, at least in the short term. I will have to have a follow-up hospital appointment in February, but for now, I am putting it to the back of my mind, along with the anxiety I suffer from, on a daily basis.

None of us are getting any younger, and I am more aware than most of impending old age creeping up on me, faster every day. In truth, I don't like being 53, and I am not enjoying middle age. I have, however, worked hard to stay fit and healthy over the last four years, and I am doing everything I can to keep my weight under control.  I understand the damage I have done to my body over the years, and although I can not reverse it, I am hopeful I can at least stop the rot in its tracks. 

This week I heard from a friend back in the UK, Julie, who I used to work with at The Newcome Arms in Fratton. Sadly, her long-term partner had passed away; naturally, she was devastated. I didn't know Bill very well, but he was a wonderful character, who was always kind, and courteous towards me, and an absolute pleasure to know.

I felt so upset for her and her family, losing a loved one, especially at this time of year. Bill wasn't an old man, but his sudden passing made me realise, just how fragile all our lives are. 

There are times I feel down and depressed, but I am so grateful for the life I now lead. It may well be quiet and uneventful, like most people's lives in Australia, but it is successful, fruitful, and extremely productive, who could possibly ask for more. 

When someone dies, you often think about your own mortality. I was close to Julie at work and have frequently thought about her. The death of Bill will affect many of those I knew in Portsmouth, and I am just glad I got to know him, and all those from The Newcome Arms. With Christmas just around the corner, it is so important to remember the good times, because those were the occasions that got me through my worst days. People like Bill were the fabric of a neighbourhood that welcomed me with open arms, and that is an aspect of life I miss, living in Australia,

Hopefully, the next few weeks will be better than the last, and Darrell and I can look forward to another happy Christmas together. Putting personal issues to the back of my mind, it's time to look positively towards the future, and put the last few weeks behind us! I will be glad to see the back of 2024, as I'm sure most of you will. This has not been the happiest of years, so lets hope 2025 surprises all of us and is the start of something better!

It has been another difficult week, something that seems to be happening more and more recently. However hard my circumstances are at the moment, I do try and take some time out and chill when I can, even if it is only for a few hours. After a shift on Saturday, Darrell and I managed to grab a couple of those important moments and have a meal together, Despite this, I could tell he wasn't it the best frame of mind, after having a particularly hard day at work.

Confrontation isn't an activity I relish, so after a rather terrible meal, it was the last thing I needed. I can handle most arguments by simply walking away, preferring to retreat to safety, but on rare occasions this isn't possible. Having been dragged into conflict, I normally do what I can to defuse situations, but that doesn't always work. On Saturday evening, Darrell and I packed a few things and left Portsmouth, having no intention of returning. I had finally reached the end of my tether and just needed to get away. Some situations feel unsalvable, and it is necessary to just up sticks and go as far away as possible.

Not for the first time, we headed to the train station with a large full case and three packed bags of belongings, essential for proving our partnership. Despite being together for twenty-seven years, we still have to carry a suitcase full of paperwork documenting our years as a couple. This ensures our life is recognised in whichever country we choose to settle in. As we walked along Fratton high street, just as we did over a quarter of a century ago, walking over Westminster bridge in the early hours of Saturday morning, both times dragging a broken case with a dodgy wheel, we made plans for the future. It was time to finally bite the bullet and fly home to Australia, restarting our life once again.

As I approached the ticket machine at the train station, about to buy two tickets to London, Darrell persuaded me to instead head to our old home in Southampton for the night, so we could just get some rest after a terrible evening. Sat waiting for the train, I messaged my work, prepared to hand in my notice there and then. We were leaving for Australia and that was my only priority. Luckily, the duty manager, who was working at the time, advised me to take a week's unpaid leave and think rationally about what I was doing. It is true to say, that minds can become cloudy in the heat of a fight and as we are all too aware, irrational decisions can overtake rational thought. Prepared to leave there and then, I took a step back, briefly, and said I would take time out to decide my next move. That was a wise decision, something I'm glad I agreed to.

We had half an hour to wait for the train, so spent the time messaging friends, who were absolutely amazing. A colleague I am particularly close too, akin to family, like the real brother I have never had, was extremely emotional and empathetic. He gave me a sense of what true friendship was like, even offering us a place to stay. Speaking to him on the phone, both emotional, he made me feel wanted in a way I haven't felt here in the UK, since my return in 2018. Of course, I have close family, but today I do tend to keep friends at a distance, especially after what has happened in the past. To hear such heart-warming words, made me realise I do have a life here and the people I work with mean the World to me.

Both Darrell and I remained quiet, sat on the train, during the forty-minute journey. Surrounded by bags, my life in tow, I just glanced out of the window, remembering the day we left for Australia in 1995 in similar circumstances. Our life has never been conventional in any sense of the word, but like all of you, we just want to settle down and lead our life normally, as we think fit, without other people dictating our every move. Since COVID and the cost of living crisis, our options to move forward have become even more limited than they were before. We have many more difficulties now, trying to achieve our dreams, and it looks likely we will have to spend the next few years building hard for a future that just isn't attainable right now. I dream of freedom every day, yet it's just too far out of reach; always one step forwards, two steps back!

Jury's Inn in Southampton was full of Saturday night revellers, and we were lucky to get a room at all, even at an inflated £206. After initial confusion with our booking, paid through PayPal, which still remains pending in my account, we finally got into our room at 10.30pm. Yet again we made more plans for a new life, just like we have done so many times before; we talked, got angry, cried and generally felt sorry for ourselves, all the while mindful of the challenges we face every day. Falling asleep briefly, we were both wide awake by 6am, when we finally came to some decisions after a few hours kip.

No argument is insurmountable, even ones as bad as the previous night. Both of us have made a life for ourselves in Portsmouth, even if it isn't going to be forever. I would miss my job, family and friends if I had to up sticks and leave, so it was time to bury the hatchet and get back to the way things were.

There has been so much turmoil and upheaval in my world recently that it is important for us both to try and live as peacefully as possible. I don't want drama in my life any more, I am too old and long in the tooth to be dealing with it. If anything, the last few days have shown how much I need Portsmouth in my life right now, especially my work and the friends and colleagues who make mine and Darrell's existence far more bearable. We have naturally discussed plans for a three-month stay in Australia, when the time is right, and hope we can see our Australian family in the not too distant future. For now, I will pick myself up, dust myself down and continue as if nothing has happened, the best way to survive another day!

With my Birthday approaching on the 9th May, I have taken a week off work, as I always do at this time of year. Usually I would be planning to go to some far-flung destination on the other side of the World, but since the pandemic I haven't travelled abroad and have decided to give flying a wide berth this year; I am just not ready to get on a plane yet.

Three years ago was the last time I went abroad, when Darrell and I toured Asia, since then I haven't had a break at all. If I am honest, the lack of travelling is beginning to get me down. I am a wonderer at heart, and I miss navigating the World, experiencing diverse cultures and enjoying the sights, sounds and smells, that only exploring can bring, as I have done throughout my adult life. By September, I hope to once again get on a plane, taking two weeks off, so we can both celebrate our anniversary away from the drudgery of the UK. That of course depends on the state of the World and whether there are restrictions in place, or we aren't in the middle of a third World war. For now, I am setting my sites on a no expense spared trip in four months, and I am more than willing to spend another Birthday at home.

This year I am visiting friends and family, spending time with those closest and just enjoying some well deserved time out. Tomorrow, my Father is coming to Portsmouth and nine of us will be going out for a large family meal at Gunwharf Quays. Dad doesn't get out much, so it will be wonderful to see him away from home. In the evening, Darrell and I will spend time with my best friend Ramona in Southampton and see other old friends on Monday. Wednesday we will both spend the day in London, enjoying the sites of this incredible city, we rarely get to see.

Yesterday, both of us went out for a walk along the Eastern Shore in Portsmouth with a colleague and friend from work, Sue. It was fantastic to just get away from the city centre for a bit, which does tend to grate on one at times. As I have grown older, I have become less interested in urban living, preferring the more rural areas surrounding this great naval city. As a young boy who grew up in a village, I have certainly become more appreciative of the quiet life. I yearn for a more relaxing existence, but am well aware of the difficulties this presents. As someone who doesn't drive, with a partner who has made a conscious decision not to buy a car, I understand I need to be near the amenities I take for granted every day.

I look forward to a productive few days with people I haven't seen in a while. As I reach the grand old age of 51, I am spending more and more time thinking about the memories that made me who I am today. I do miss certain aspects of my past life in Southampton, so relish the opportunity to see those who were there for me then. It has been seven years since I lived there, so I have a lot of catching up to do. Birthdays are a time to celebrate life, but they are also a time to remember all the momentous occasions that came before. Making time for others is important, especially after the trauma of the last few years.

I've always had a keen interest in all things spiritual, believing in an afterlife and the power of mediums to channel energy. Whilst searching through some personal items today, I came across a cassette tape, produced by Terri Day in 2002, during a psychometric reading I had with her in December of that year. To be honest, listening to that recording today, I have been transported backwards twenty years. I remember the conversation I had with her in her House in Salisbury. She was an extremely nice, agreeable person, who through the power of jewellery, tried to analyse me and my life. Terri came highly recommended by a friend and at the time, sceptically, I took the plunge and booked an appointment to see her.

In many respects I have always been open to people like Terri; I really do believe there are people who can see past the earthly plane we live on. As a person who is constantly seeking answers for different aspects of life, Mediumship offers a way to make sense of confusion, in a way we can't always determine ourselves.

I have included an extract from the recording on that day, so readers can make what they will of her abilities. At the time I thought she was remarkably accurate in her assessment of my life, but much of what she said could have been interpreted in any number of ways. She didn't really tell me anything enlightening or miraculous; in fact she misunderstood many aspects of my life, especially my personal life. Her evaluation was completely off kilter, referring to my partner Darrell as 'her' and not even understanding we were living and working together on a daily basis. Today, listening to the recording I am disappointed at her reading and can only come to the conclusion, that she wasn't necessarily the person she claimed to be.

That is quite difficult for me to say, admitting that a Clairvoyant wasn't accurate, but that is the truth of my experience; I can't say I recognised much of what she said. I am not saying for one-minute Miss Day was fraudulent or deceptive in nature, but I don't believe she had clairvoyant ability. Nevertheless, Terri sparked an inquisitiveness in the supernatural side of life for me. Her reading in 2002 was the beginning of an interest in the occult that still remains prominent and part of who I am.

I began to read and appreciate the different ways one can tap into the unconscious and really understand a person. I spent the next ten years studying Chiromancy or Palmistry to the layman and entered a World that gripped my imagination. So obsessed with the meaning of life and how to interpret our journey in this World, I turned my interest into a passion, that still exists today.

I would often read friends and strangers hands and would not only surprise myself, but also others, in just how much you could tell about another person, just by looking at the lines on the palmar surface. I have often been blown away by the circumstances and events I have seen mapped before me; I truly believe all of us have the ability to understand ourselves more, by looking at the lines on our hands, but acknowledge it isn't always possible for everyone to grasp that narrative before them.

In complete contrast to Clairvoyance, Palmistry offers a tangible insight into a persons mind. Mediumship relies on faith and a belief in an individual; we are hopeful they are honest and true and can do what they portend, but there will always be an element of trust involved. A Medium can research and investigate, to obtain information by dishonest means. Only the person having a reading can really determine if it is sincere and reliable. Throughout my audience with Terri, I didn't feel entirely comfortable with her commentary and if I am brutally honest, she didn't really understand who I was at all.

Then of course there was the so-called psychic who had spent three months living with my dead Grandmother. When a work colleague contacted me, claiming of her ability to contact the afterlife, including my Grandmother, I was in no position to disbelieve her. This unscrupulous person even came to my home as a trusted friend and confidante, to help Darrell and I meditate and open our minds to the concept of the spirit world. Spending an hour 'opening our chakras,' she spuriously pretended to help us see past our own scepticism. Self-evidently, it was all nonsense and this unethical reprobate, just wanted to cause us maximum hurt and pain. For a while I did believe her and thought she was a friend, but as time moved on, I saw past the lies and her disruptive shenanigans, discovering she wasn't the person I thought she was. Most people understood her true nature at the time and could only shrug, hold their hands in the air and say, they told us so. I only had myself to blame, wanting to believe in her more than anything else; I was blinded from the truth!

My next brush with the transcendental came with a trip to see my all-time hero 'Psychic Sally,' at The Mayflower Theatre in Southampton. I used to watch her television show all the time, as often as I could. When I found out she was going on tour, I just had to go. I had high expectations for the evening, but sadly ended up very disappointed. Her live performance was particularly mediocre, and I didn't feel she was genuinely tapping into the spirit World. My interest in her diminished shortly afterwards and her perceived lack of ability turned me away from parapsychology completely, as I sort answers to problems elsewhere. I am not saying for one minute that Sally Morgan was a fake, far from it, but she just didn't connect with me, in a way I hoped she would; for someone seeking answers, that is important!

Today, I continue to read palms when I can and still have that curiosity in divination, I think I probably always will. I have a packet of tarot cards, placed under my bed, wrapped in a silk scarf and often ask them questions. I watch 'Most Haunted,' read my horoscope in the newspaper and stumble across fortune telling websites; Yes, I still have an enthusiasm for anything that can't be explained. However, I am more realistic with rationales and remain a sceptic, until convinced to the contrary. Something inside me will always want to believe, no matter how much I am persuaded otherwise, but until I really understand the nature of spirituality, I will continue to wrestle with my conscience, searching for aggregates and reading between the lines!

In 1999, I was asked to write an article for my local newspaper, the Southern Daily Echo, in reply to an unprovoked, scathing attack on the gay community, by a local Member of Parliament. I had initially written a letter to the editor in response to an article, composed by Sir Desmond Swayne MP, detailing his objections to the lowering of the age of consent for gay men, to equal that of our heterosexual counterparts. The article he wrote was a shuddering diatribe about homosexual men and the lifestyles we were accused of leading. His comments were hurtful, degrading and utterly appalling. After reading his piece, I had to put pen to paper and make my voice heard.

Immediately I contacted the Editor, utterly horrified that this article was allowed to be printed in the first place. The words Sir Desmond wrote were extremely disturbing and at times defamatory in nature. I didn't recognise the wayward description of my homosexual brethren and I didn't understand why someone could be so misguided in their views.

The editor explained his stance on the matter and asked if I would like to write a column the following week, in reply to Sir Desmond. Still incensed about the 'out of touch' MP, I sat down to write what I considered to be a measured and fair reply. The reality is, I just wanted to knock the guy out, but that would have just reinforced his bigoted views, making me the degenerate he referred to, all to frequently in his composition.

Every time I have seen this man, still Member of Parliament for the New Forest, on television, I have literally switched over, or growled vocally at the screen. I have had no time for him ever since and just cringed at his lack of knowledge on a subject, he really should have researched before launching into a public attack.

Imagine my surprise today, while browsing through the newspaper headlines on the internet, as I do every morning, when I came across this article from Sir Desmond Swayne. I thought to myself, 'oh God here we go again, the old bugger is off on his usual rant, about the evils of homosexuality!' However, NO, No, this was a discourse about change and how Sir Desmond had seen the light and admitted how wrong he was..... I don't mind telling you, I was gobsmacked; this was a man holding his hands up and saying he was mistaken and inaccurate in his assessment of gay men and incorrect for saying the things he did, and I couldn't quite believe it!

Personally I am not sure such a man can change so much. Don't get me wrong if he has really seen the light, then I embrace him with open arms. But hugging Sir Desmond is probably not going to happen anytime soon. This person had such anti-gay views, that I just can't see how they have transposed out of all recognition. Homophobia is a particularly entrenched attitude, one that usually takes generations to change. One man miraculously reforming overnight is a little hard to believe, though it has to be said, not impossible.

Rest assured, I will be writing to Sir Desmond Swayne, after I finish this article to discover just what has happened. It would be great to stand up and admit I was wrong for thinking a leopard never changes its spots, but is he really a rehabilitated character?.... Whatever happens, I must go and have a lie down; once again, the World is a little stranger, my head a little foggier and in retrospect that column I wrote in 1999 may never have happened at all!

On Saturday I went with two friends, Debbie and Hayley to the 'Let's Rock Southampton' festival, a train ride away, in the City where I lived for over twenty years. It was a blisteringly hot day, perfect for enjoying the now familiar music festival organised annually on the south coast. This isn't a festival for teenagers and young adults, this is a retro 1980s homage, where most of the party goers are in their late 40s early 50s. Despite being busy, with thousands of people in attendance, there was no trouble or antisocial behaviour found at similar events!

As a rule you will never see me at a concert or festival, it really isn't my thing. I can't think of anything worse being surrounded by crowds of people, paying for overpriced substandard food in searing heat or even worse, pouring rain. However this was an event I was looking forward to. I am a fan of all things 80s and of course enjoy the music from the era. This was a day I was determined to enjoy, spending time with Debbie and Hayley, which is always a pleasure.

As we approached the park, I was contacted by Dom an old friend, who used to live with me back in the year 2004. Dom was with his friend Lizi, who I also knew and they wanted to meet in the park. I haven't seen Dom since I returned to the UK last year and was excited he was coming. He was in fine fettle and I was absolutely overjoyed to be spending the day with him and Lizi as well. It really did bring back so many memories of our time together, clubbing in Bournemouth and London. Happy memories on  a perfect day!

The queues getting into the park were long and I was expecting a two hour wait, but the lines of party goers soon disappeared and we were through the gates within twenty minutes. The acts had just started on stage and we quickly made our way to the Pimms tent and bought a jug for twenty eight pounds, hugely expensive and with a low level of alcohol, that never really hit the spot. A small bottle of beer wasn't much cheaper, at five pounds a pop, but was far more enjoyable and I was more than happy to pay the price.  With burgers costing on average eight pounds and a small tub of chinese food over a tenner, this really wasn't going to be a cheap day.

The reason we were all there was the music and for the most part I wasn't disappointed. Westworld and Toyah were amazing and really put me in a good mood for the rest of the day. I used to be a big fan of Toyah's, so it was fantastic to finally see her live. I have no idea how old she is now, but her voice was just as good as I remember. Listening to these two acts really felt like stepping back in time, in a good way...I haven't been to a festival before but suddenly felt a conversion coming on, maybe this would be the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

Whilst enjoying a quick pit stop - Chinese Chicken and rice and a pint of Fosters, Belinda Carlisle came on stage. Now she was the act I most wanted to see, one of my all time favourite artists. Quickly I ran through the thronging crowd to get a good view; she was amazing, looking fantastic for her age and her voice was just as I remember. The music was flawless and her performance was the best experience of the whole day.

The eighties were indeed a special time for me. I was born in 1971 and grew up through what I consider to be the best decade, at least of my lifetime. The music, television, films and emerging technological revolution were a catalyst for my memories today. Standing in a field with thousands of others, on a hot summers day in 2019, I was transported back 35 years, reliving a youth that seemed like only yesterday. Someone once said to me, 'if you could go back and live your life again, would you?' There was only one answer I could give to that....A firm unequivocal YES; I would go back tomorrow and relive those years and all the others I survived, again and again and again.

Life teaches us many lessons and I have much to learn from the last four decades. So much has happened and even more has gone wrong, but it is true to say, the eighties were the first and last best years of my life; thereafter my life took many wrong paths. The 1980s were a time of great change, not only for me, but also the World. The messages in the music of the time spoke of a better future for all and although these years were not the best for everyone, they were for me. My life as an impressionable teenager began in 1982 and as I adapted to adulthood, the eighties took a final bow. Ten years of adventure, self determination and expression soon became a distant memory and I became the person I am today, a product of a time that I wont easily forget! Long live the 80s!

A few months ago someone I once knew, was sentenced to life in Prison for murdering his partner. Shane Roberts (Not his real name) viciously attacked his girlfriend Marie with a baseball bat, before stabbing her in the neck with a shard of glass from a broken mirror. I was in two minds whether to write anything about this incident, but felt compelled to after the impact he had on my life and that of my friends! Initially I was going to write about this incident in December, when his sentence was announced, but felt the trauma for all those involved was too raw and left it until today, before writing these words!

Shane was introduced to me and others by a mutual friend and at first we all got on well as a group. He had a charm about him that was actually quite endearing, but on occasion, a nasty side would surface; alarm bells would ring. During this time he formed a relationship with one of my friends, who I will call Lisa; consequently she became pregnant with his child, giving birth to a lovely baby girl, who it has to be said, is a credit to her, bringing her up extremely well, away from the destructive influence of her Father.

Like Marie, this young Mum went through a difficult time, suffering abuse on a daily basis. On one occasion I witnessed him attack her and it wasn't long before these two individuals split and went their separate ways; this wasn't the end of the matter however and Shane continued to make life difficult for Lisa and others who knew her! After giving evidence to the Police, Shane was ordered to stay away, but continued to harass those who knew her best, turning up on my doorstep, pleading for help before I left to live in Spain. At the time I felt guilty about not letting him into my home, but realise now, I could have had a lucky escape.

I had very little contact with Shane after we moved abroad, but did hear from him from time to time, usually a sob story about how his life was going and how the World was against him. Lisa had also moved on, but still looked over her shoulder, wondering when he would turn up and the circle of strife would start all over again. All the while Shane continued down a reckless path, frequently arrested and spending time in jail.

When I announced I was returning to the UK on 25 May 2018, Shane was the first person I heard from, trying to arrange a meeting, wanting to see me urgently, for reasons unknown. He bombarded my mobile night and day and eventually I blocked him from social media and my phone. This isn't the course of action I would have followed in the past, always trying to do what I could to help someone who needed it most, but something told me it was the right thing at the time. I have become a very good judge of character in recent years and without exception follow my gut instinct, when deciding whether or not to remove someone from my life.

As a trained Mentor and Advocate, I was always aware of how to deal with certain individuals and used my experiences to help those unfortunate souls who had lost their way in life. Part of my skills, learned whilst working for 'Action for Children,' was my ability to listen and articulate what I had heard, in order to create a dialogue between two inherently opposed sides. I have always been a good negotiator and do my best to achieve an amicable outcome for all, without the need for confrontation and conflict. I see the good in people and want them to succeed and overcome adversity, because all of us deserve the same chances in life. Shane however pushed me to the limits of what I could reasonably do and sadly I chose to give up on him as a person. This had rarely happened in my life, but one must reasonably know when to draw the line.

When I was told what had transpired between Shane and his partner, I was shocked. I knew this guy had his problems, but didn't think for one minute he could be a murderer; although thinking logically, what does a murderer actually look and act like anyway?

Yesterday I was asked if I wanted to do some more advocacy work, with a leading British charity, something I have agreed to think about. Today I lead a very busy life and rarely have time to think, but I am always open to new challenges and understand I can make a difference to other peoples lives. There will always be people like Shane in the World, people that can't be assisted, but there are also others who may have just gone off the rails and can be encouraged to mend their ways. I often think 'what if?' in Shane's case, but am frequently reminded that he was a person who couldn't be helped in the end. Rather than beating myself up over a man who will spend the rest of his life in jail, I should be concentrating on those he left behind, the real victims and providing a voice, a shoulder to cry on and a catalyst for expression.

I hope to channel my time and energy into helping those who need it most and will likely accept an offer to become an advocate once again. The personalities and characters we meet throughout our lives are a benchmark for the future. I hope to use my experiences with Shane to push me forwards along roads I haven't travelled before. As his memory fades, new impressions will take his place and the negativity that surrounds his departure will become a positive change for the future!