Leaving home was a big shock. I was miles from home and very nervous. But now all these years later I would go back in an instant.

I met fantastic people, some of whom I have stayed friends with for years. I met my partner, I learned to manage my life and become a grown up. I realised my wish to be an artist, and that has never left me. I started to understand other people’s perspectives on life and how they did, and didn’t, manage.

To be honest, my whole understanding of life and politics changed completely when I left home. I had been protected and had a good life, with enough to eat, a safe place to live, and a caring family. Leaving the nest was hard, but as I moved into a shared flat, the resulting change wasn’t too drastic.

Meeting new people, with different ideas to mine was an eye opener. I don’t think I really appreciated how strange and mad the world was till then. I feel like I didn’t really exist till I moved out of home.

Travelling home was not easy, being away from family was hard. But I made a success of it. I wish I could go back though, just for the enjoyment and knowledge I absorbed. I would not want to be me now, all those years ago. I would want to experience it all fresh and new. But then yes, I’d come back to my current life, renewed.