The stereotypes in particular about my county as a whole are something I struggled to get to grips with as someone who does not fit that mould. Immediately hearing “Oh like Gemma Collins?” when you say where you're from isn’t exactly the ideal first impression I’d like to give off (despite how iconic she is).
Since going to university, whenever I come home for the summer or winter break, I can’t help but feel as though I have outgrown my hometown. Moving to a large city from a town where the most interesting establishment is a co-op is certainly a reality check. I am forever stuck feeling like I am 15 years old again when I step foot in the ghost town lined with open playing fields, hairdressers and charity shops, in a strange transition period where I believe this place doesn't serve me anymore. Every time I return, another beloved local store has closed down on the high road, and I no longer pass the same familiar faces every day. It seems like the town I once knew is growing and changing without me, which is hard to understand when it’s all you’ve ever known.
"I am forever stuck feeling like I am 15 years old again when I step foot in the ghost town lined with open playing fields, hairdressers and charity shops, in a strange transition period where I believe this place doesn't serve me anymore."
As I wander through the quaint town on my trips home, I brush by the ghosts of past lives I once lived. Me and my primary school pals playing on the swings in the local park. My 12-year-old self anxiously making her way to a netball tournament she goes on to win. Me and my sixth-form best friends standing outside the corner shop, deciding who’s going in to grab a bottle of vodka. My freshly 18-year-old self in the back of her dad's van pulling out the driveway, carrying her entire existence along with her as she takes the treacherous journey up to Newcastle to start university.
Even though I decided to go to the furthest possible place away from it in the country, I have grown such a fondness for my hometown. I find myself counting down the days until I get to go back, longing for that lost familiarity. You don’t truly understand how much you love your home until you’re leaving it, only coming to appreciate its little comforts once they are no longer part of your daily routine.
