i’m free!

wow.

what a year this has been.

after a few of the worst months of my life i am free.

 

well, i say free, i am now back home with my parents saving up to go travelling.

not as free as i’d like to be but it’s a hell of a lot better than being back where i was.

 

let’s make this easy to follow.

in feb 2014 i moved 150 miles away to live in manchester and become an au pair.

i fell in love with the city. head over heels in love.

 

after 8 months i decided to move on. came home for about two weeks but the force of manchester pulled me back and within weeks i returned.

new career, new accommodation, new me.

 

i started a job that i loved, fast-paced sales in a fun and exciting environment.

and i did love it, i really really did.

but after nearly two years we parted ways.

 

life would have been fine if i had stayed where i first lived, or maybe got a flat share with some of my old housemates. but i was dumb and i didn’t. i moved in with two people who i worked with. who i thought were nice. silly me was completely and utterly wrong.

after a few months of living together we started getting letters from the landlords, saying we hadn’t paid rent. well, saying they hadn’t paid rent. and because i didn’t want to go to court, and because i’m too nice i paid their rent for them. 4 months worth for one guy and three months worth for the other. and all the bills. council tax, electric, repairs. you name it, i paid it.

and they assured they would pay me back. but of course, they didn’t.

 

and after i left the job even though i still lived with them we drifted.

one had moved out (name was still on the tenancy and he still wasn’t paying) and the other one stayed there. his girlfriend moved in who i got on really well with. we bonded together when he was being unreasonable. which was pretty often.

shouting matches between the two of them were a regular thing, insults were hurled, threats were given and i sat there pretending not to hear it. the amount of times i saw her crying and trying to leave i can’t count on two hands. but they stayed together.

she was great, helped him pay some of the rent he owed, tried to help me tidy up the apartment and keep it organised. but it was tough. really fucking tough.

 

he and i didn’t talk much for the last few months. some of the people still in the business told me the rumours he was spreading about me. stupid, untrue rumours that had no cause or justification. he was over £2500 in debt to me but continued to tell everyone how awful i was and all these terrible (and false) things (and people) i had done.

god knows why but i never confronted him.

after a disastrous night out with he, her, some old work colleagues and i, everything blew up. lots of crying and shouting and screaming and fighting.

things didn’t really improve from that.

 

and that was my life for the past few months. treading on eggshells to try and avoid him as much as possible. being friends with her but not really being allowed to talk when he was around. chasing up the other housemate for the money he owed me and basically trying very very hard not to explode/cry/scream/run away.

and amazingly i did it.

i don’t know how and i don’t know why but thank whatever the hell gave me this strength to just keep going. my parents gave me some fucking resilient genes let me tell you that.

 

and so today i am free.

the boys owe me £4500 combined, i’m not going to get back the full £2200 apartment deposit that i paid but i am free.

safe and free

and for now that’s all i need.

the money can wait – i have my parents and a fab lawyer friend on the case.

it’s time for a little me time.

and by a little i mean a lot. god knows i could do with a break. all i have ever wanted to do is travel and explore the world and see how far i can go. so that’s the plan. make as much money as i can and then just run away. i deserve this.

 

anyone looking to hire a travel blogger a.s.a.p?!

champagne-celebration-gif

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