My son turned sixteen in January, and this is a big year for him. GCSEs are coming up, he’s been accepted into sixth form to study his A-levels, and he’s got prom on the horizon. For his birthday he asked for concert tickets, a couple of gigs he really wanted to go to: Morrissey & My Chemical Romance.
The first one was on the 28th of February just gone, so we headed back to London to the O2. I have to admit, I was buzzing too when he asked for Morrissey tickets. I loved him in The Smiths and I still love him now. My son has read Morrissey’s autobiography and feels a real connection to him.
On Saturday night I watched him singing along to There Is a Light That Never Goes Out, absolutely beaming. And as I looked at him, I thought…. ‘These kids don’t even realise that they are my light. My light that never goes out’. While I’m raising my children, I will cherish every breath.
Considering my son was born in prison while I was incarcerated, he’s grown into a fine young man with a good head on his shoulders. That’s an experience we both share, and it will stay with me forever.
It’s also why I want to shed the stigma around giving birth in prison. It doesn’t matter where you’re born – what matters is how you’re loved and cared for afterwards.
He’s started playing guitar now, both electric and acoustic, and as I lie here on my bed listening to him strum the theme from Better Call Saul, I couldn’t be more proud.
For a while I worried he was missing out because he wasn’t out drinking with his mates or getting into trouble. Now I realise that was my story, not his. I did those things because I didn’t have a loving home, and it only led to chaos and trauma.
He stays here because he wants to – because he feels safe. His bedroom is his creative haven.
I may have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but raising my children is my greatest achievement.
Bipolar Mum Journey 
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