The damaged girl inside of me became so lonely.

I was lonely, but pretended that I wasn't.

In hindsight, I really shouldn't have felt that way.

I had both my nan and my gramp.

My brother and some kids from school.

I had the horses and some friends from working at Mr Tully's.

On account of mum constantly moving from one nearby town to another, I would acquire more friends along the way—and yet, I was still lonely.

My heart felt lonely, and my mind was an even lonelier place to be.

So many of my thoughts scared me.

So many of them unsettled me.

If I had verbalised all that was inside of my head, I think I would have been sectioned. I no longer had the little old lady who used to come and sit at the end of my bed, so I created a confidant of my own—Marilyn Monroe.

With her, I would share all of the scary things that were confusingly inside my teenage brain. I would look up to the ceiling of my bedroom, whether I was at my nan's or at my mum's, and within the shadows upon that ceiling, I would see Marilyn's face. Then, the small and afraid voice that was inside of my head, would tell her everything.

Everything that I couldn't ever say out loud, I told Marilyn.

She was just a shadow on my ceiling. A nonjudgmental vision, who would just listen to the distressing workings of my young and troubled mind.

I can't remember how long I had done that for; I believe it was for many, many months. I only remember feeling better about having someone to offload all of my deep and disturbing thoughts to.

Back then, I didn't understand the fragility of my mental state. I didn't know that my early childhood, had rooted itself to my teens.

To be honest, there wasn't much that I did know.

I didn't know who I was or what I wanted.

I didn't know where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do.

It was too much to think about.

Too much to face.

My exams at school were awful.

The only O levels that I was actually confident doing; were English Language and General Studies...the rest, I miserably failed.

After my exams, Mr Tully himself offered me a job, which I was very grateful for, but something inside of me wanted to try and branch out from my comfort zone. I was ready to try my hand at something else. With the help of my dear gramp, I wrote letters to places where I thought I might like to work—pet shops, dog kennels, catteries and veterinary surgeries.

I had already done a little work experience at one of the local vets, so would have loved to learn more about being a veterinary nurse. Those letters, ended up securing me three job interviews and one regrettable decline.

One at a pet shop.

One at a kennel.

One at a cattery.

And the decline from another local veterinary clinic.

Just as I was thinking that I'd accept the job that was offered to me from the pet shop, I got a surprising offer from the vets who had told me that there were no proper jobs available, but would I be interested in participating in a new youth training scheme instead....I absolutely jumped at the unexpected opportunity.

So at the unsure and lonely age of sixteen, I began working as a trainee veterinary nurse with the help of the YTS. My dearest gramp was so completely proud of me, when I first showed to him my pinstriped mint green and white nurses uniform. So utterly proud, that he and my nan took me to the jewellers, so they could both buy me a fob watch to pin onto my brand new uniform. To this day, I still have that precious fob watch. To this day, I cherish the memories attached to that small timepiece.

Working at the vets, gave me new responsibilities that I surprisingly coped very well with. I loved the job; both the good and the bad parts. I quickly became part of the veterinary family. Eagerly, I wanted to learn everything that I could about being a good animal nurse. The leading vet, was so impressed with my hard work and my young dedication, that he would kindly top up my weekly wage slips, which only made me work harder for him and the other vets.

I was never a clever girl. I didn't have the confidence or the attention span to properly study, so I winged my way through my entire educational life. Yet at the vets, I was actually pretty good at being a veterinary nurse. I was doing things, that I never dreamed I would ever be able to do. I assisted in operations. It was down to me whether an animal was too light or too deep with their anaesthesia. I developed x-rays, dispensed medications and did sub-cut injections—the vets all helped me to personally and professionally bloom.

I made new and wonderful friends, too. One friend in particular, I was especially fond of. Jeremy started at the same time as I had. He had the most angelic of faces, adorned with white blond hair and the bluest of blue eyes I had ever seen. He was a pretty boy. So pretty, that a lot of clients would actually mistake him for being a girl. Quickly, we became so close. His personality was so calm and so placid, he rubbed along very nicely with my unpredictable and insecure one.

Even Jeremy's family loved me. I think that his dear old mum would have loved for us both to have one day settled down together, but we didn't ever look at one another in a romantic way—we were wonderfully just friends.

It was through Jeremy and his kind family, that I would fall into yet another thing that I would never have dreamed I'd be able to do—lap scoring for the Scrambling Association.

With me no longer working at Mr Tully's, if I wasn't working on a weekend, I would accompany Jeremy and his family to a lot of motocross meets. During the summer months, it was such great fun, but not so much in the wet and muddy months.

My confidence was at an all-time high. My inner loathing was at an unusual all-time low. What with work, college and lap scoring...I didn't have time to dwell on hating myself.

Of course, my insecurities were all still there.

Of course, my self doubts were all still there.

But keeping busy kept them all at bay.

My new-found happiness, it got me noticed. Some of the lads who did motocross, began showing an interest in me, which I actually quite liked at the time.

I was in a good place, and a good place made me much more receptive to the opposite sex.

"What can I get you?" A friendly ice cream man had asked me with a wide and mature smile.

It was a really hot day at this particular scramble, so I had been quietly contemplating what would quench my thirst the most. "I'll get whatever this pretty young lady wants." Said a deep voice from somewhere so closely behind me.

I looked to where the masculine voice had come from. There, with a boisterous smile, stood a guy called Pete. I'd seen him around a lot before. He always used to wink or wave my way whenever our paths crossed at the motocross trials. He was much older than me, late twenties at the time, but he had a likeable character about him.

Yes, he was loud.

Yes, overly confident.

Yes, stupidly funny.

But I liked him.

When I still hadn't made my mind up about which lolly or ice cream I should have, Pete naughtily made the decision for me. "I'll have two 69ers, please?" Then looking at me with an incorrigible twinkle in his dark and lewd eyes, he then pretended to cough. "Sorry, I meant two 99ers."

The ice cream man had looked at me before shaking his head with a small chuckle to himself while he amusingly made our 99ers. As he carefully pushed in a chocolate flake into each one of our vanilla yumminess, he gave them both to Pete with a knowing grin. "There you go." He had said, still amused no end by Pete's playful naughtiness.

After paying for them, Pete then turned to me. "Your 99er, pretty lady."

"Thank you." I said, wasting no time in giving my delicious ice cream an eager little lick.

As I turned to leave, Pete called out to me. "Hey! I'd really like to take you out?!"

With a confident smile, I just as confidently had replied back to him. "I'll think about it...thanks for my ice cream!"

It was on that day, that I realised that I quite liked the confident Mary Rose. It seemed, that others quite liked her too.