And yes, I am still salty about this almost 30 years later.
✂️🧵

I finally had my own space which nobody could demand entry to. And then, we had our beds upgraded, and my sister wanted a double bed for her new big room. There was not quite enough room, so I watched in frustration as my parents GOT RID OF THE SOFA BED and redid the room for her. 6🧵

Eventually, in my mid-late teens, when my sister hit about 10 years old and her room started overflowing with stuff, I pitched an idea to Mum that we should swap rooms. I had less stuff, I wasn't materialistic, she needed the extra space and so on. My parents bought it, and the idea went forward. 5🧵

I HATED this. Complained to my parents in vain to have my privacy respected only to be told 'just let her in, she isn't doing any harm'. I felt squashed, mentally, and like I had nowhere to go where someone wouldn't follow me and demand energy that I didn't have to give. 4🧵

Until my Dad uttered the fateful words 'This is for the two of you to share'. My face dropped and my sister's lit up. Because now my younger sister, at JUST the point in my life where I CRAVED privacy, could demand to be let into my room to sit on 'her' sofa bed, because it was for us to share. 3🧵

My parents bought a fold out sofa bed, supposedly to allow for people to come and stay with us (although to my knowledge this only ever happened once and was an unmitigated disaster). The sofa bed had to go in my room, because my room was bigger. I was thrilled to have a great hangout zone... 2🧵

Screening times
Our theatre is tiny so any movie gets 1 showing per day (maybe 2 for a major release). And they rotate around over the week. So on days where I can go, there isn't always a showing of what I want to see available in the right time slot.

And I can't just 'make new memories' with those people. Several key figures in that group aren't part of my life any more (for also complex reasons) and now - I can't even reach out to them to process this together. And that hurts too. I wonder how they're thinking and feeling. And I'll never know.

I appreciate the sentiment, and thank you for taking the time to reply. But it's not just the works - It's the memories. One of the few times in my life that was wholesome and unproblematic now doesn't feel that way any more. There's a sheen all over it. And that's what I need to process.

A little extra unpacking:
bsky.app/profile/nzwe...

This country has loved me and adopted me and I love it as much as I love Cymru.

He ruined the memories of my past. It feels like she, particularly, has tainted my home. And that lash will run deep and raw for some time. 🧵✂️

This country wrapped its arms around her when the world went crazy. The people here reached out to her, housed her, cared for her and her son.

You dare come into this whare, that gave you love and care, freely and without condition, and facilitate these happenings..? 🧵4

I still haven't read the article but through conjecture I can see that some of this ... horror, took place in New Zealand. And this makes my blood boil even more than my original sensation of heart sore grief. 🧵3

I shrugged off a lot of the negative comments about her because, frankly, wherever successful women go, negativity follows. Plus, I had known and followed [him] for some time, and trusted his judgement more than the internet-at-large. (I feel awful saying that now) 🧵2

I knew she was married to Gaiman, but she was in New Zealand when we were in lockdown, and I ended up following her writing because a lot of her stream of consciousness writing struck chords in me, knowing that my family were on the other side of the world and forcibly separated from me. 🧵1