Slowly things got better and very slowly, I started to heal. We met and 6 months into our relationship we were married and I moved to Australia. Everything I did seemed to be self destructive – I see it clearly now, but back then it was just about getting the demons out of my head.ĥ years later, I returned back to Pakistan and a few months later I met my saviour, my husband. I wanted an escape constantly, so instead of glue and thinner, this time I turned to smoking weed, drinking and then taking ecstasy regularly. I had been in several relationships but I always chose people who would hurt and abuse me…I seemed to gravitate towards toxic people. I I was not happy and got therapy and prescribed medications.

He made the mistake of stepping in once and got told by my mother that I was her problem and she would deal with me, and he wasn’t to interfere… So while I huddled on a chair and had my head smashed in, he sat watching the telly or reading books or the newspaper.Īt 21 years old I left home and went back to the UK to study a science degree. Where was my dad through all this you may be wondering? On his chair reading his newspaper. This all led to me trying to kill myself 3 times over the next 8 years, however I knew enough to actually not die, but I thought that if I did something serious, they would realise someone would realise and, help me. I was in a relationship from age 13 where I was made to do things I did not really want to do but did them anyway. I also got my hands on anything (glue, thinner etc) to get high. In my teens, I began self-harming… I couldn’t deal with the emotional hurt that I felt inside, so I converted it to a physical pain I could see and feel and deal with. We had numerous visits to ER to check for broken bones and head trauma and I also dealt with being sexually molested regularly by an uncle who thankfully died. Maybe at least weekly I had some sort of run-in with my mum where being adopted was used as a way to hurt me and very often she was physical, hitting me, throwing things at me and even smashing things on my head. But when aged 11 and you’re told that daughters are like their mums, but “oh you’re not really my daughter so how can I expect you to be like me?” and then having a suitcase packed and put at the door because you were being taken back to “where you came from,” this all really takes its toll. I understood once I got a lot older that she had many unresolved issues from her past herself where she never got help for them, (which is why she lashed out at me so much). However, what really affected me the most was the verbal abuse I suffered from my own mother. One such time that has stuck with me was when a relative was looking at me whilst at the same time saying to my mother “people take in strays off the street and learn to love them.”

My journey and life was tumultuous… I spent the first 10 years of my life in the U.K and then my parents moved back to Pakistan where I felt like an outsider, especially when kids made fun of my English accent and I was teased when they found out that I was adopted.Īdoption was, and in some ways still is, very taboo here and I bore the brunt of some harsh comments at times. My parents were British Pakistanis living in London and I was adopted age 6 months from Pakistan.

Though we are adoptive parents ourselves, my own journey with adoption started in 1976 when I was adopted myself.

Nova pulse ivf clinic