Moving back to QLD when we did, was not my idea of a good time. I was coming of age and not happy to leave my desperately important friendship nucleus and 'life' in Melbourne.
Despite Mum doing her best to enrol me in a small Catholic college where many of my friends from primary school were going, Mt Maria - I cried and hated the family for most of the first term of the first year back in Brisbane.
However, once I started to get my friendship circle established and the lost memories of Victoria started to fade.. the letters to Tan and Belinda began to be less frequent; and I started to enjoy the torture of teenager life.
Year 8 was pretty standard. School work was school work. I participated in every sport and extra curricular activity possible. I loved hanging on the weekend at Stafford City and going to Roller Disco's at Stafford Skate Centre. I was a good speed skater and loved dancing, so this was right up my ally. I just couldnt go backwards very well which always irked me a bit. My best girlfriend was Cassie Wrench and we spent most of our time together. I also had a side gang of Nicole McAvaney and Alison Cannavan - they lived far from Cass so i had to be realistic and strategic about where and how I'd socialise.
We lived in the northern suburbs about a 25 minute drive from school, so our bus system and journey home was with a unique mix of kids and it stretched my friendships and my brother's experiences; in a fun way. The boys went to primary school next to me and Clarrie in particular was always so cheeky on the bus, everyone loved him. Living in a completely different hood to the school area also felt like I had two lives. The school and the home life, different friends, different experiences, so much to keep track of.
There were the usual dramas in high schools from year 8 - 10. Friendships that were rocky; boy crushes and bullying. Questioning about own self and the foes of trying to stay fashion savvy and trendy when I came from a relatively poor family. But my sunny temperament and thirst for experiencing all things in life meant I rolled with the punches fairly well. (Literally sometimes, having been someone who got into fights once a year at high school).
We had a couple of teenage boys who lived next door to us.. Nathan and Adam Guild. Nathan was one year older (14) and Adam 3 years (16). They went to a super cool all boys school in the northern suburbs. They were sporty and outdoorsy and super cool and I thought Adam was SOOO HOT. I would sit out on the fence like the completely lovestruck teen that I was, gazing at him every afternoon as he washed his car listening to Guns n Roses, or he mowed the lawn or passed the footy with his brother. Living in QLD had it's perks because most of this was without a shirt or a muscle singlet.
Late in the year of 1993, Adam and Nathan's parents sold the house and moved. I have a feeling it was because our extremely rowdy mob disturbed their serene mojo and they wanted to escape us. Nevertheless, their impending move was crushing to me. I was about to lose the love of my life - and I had never even had a chance to tell him.
So, on the last night before they moved.. I left a love letter to him in their letter box. I confessed my feelings, wishing him all the best and leaving my phone number that maybe he would like to call and hang out with me some time. I took the bull by the horns and gave love a shot.
To my absolute delight - he rang; and we started a little teen-romance. We met up a couple of times in town and he would call me and I would go to water and giddy with love. Until Dad.
Dad and his unforgiveable, idiotic, menacing mockery. One day - Adam had called after school and Dad was home. He wouldn't normally be home at that time, but he was. When I answered the phone, Dad also picked up the other line and 'caught' me chatting to a boy. He wasn't mad, he just started to tease me. Mercifully. I couldn't handle it and hung up on Adam. Adam rang back confused, and I hung up again. Then eventually, he rung back, naturally wondering what the heck went on. I am so embarrassed to this day.. I said 'she's not home' and hung up again.. effectively ending the relationship. All because I couldn't cope with my Dad's mocking. Fair to say that put an end to me exposing anything of my life to my Dad for the future onwards.
Year 9, that awful year of teenage girl hormones and bitchiness.. Lots of school sport; started going to Blue Light Disco's and Marist Brothers dances. I noticed friends were starting to experiment with smoking and getting into relationships. I definitely wanted a boyfriend and to be popular but not so fussed on the smoking and super naughty scene. Fashion and peer influence got to me more than I wanted to admit, but I also had my own style and preferences that were kind of quirky... and didnt help the struggle between mainstream me and individual me. Cross colours and 26 red were the Kris Kross inspired outfits of choice and I swayed between R & B and grunge music; with Cass and I having a HUGE obsession with all the legendary grunge bands of the 90s. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Offspring, GreenDay, Silverchair, Violent Femmes, Soundgarden. You name it, we had or wanted to have the band t-shirt and matching flanelette shirt.
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| The Salt n Pepa inspired Cross Colors Stylz |
In year 10 I had a bit of a part time job on weekends and I was super annoyed at my Dad for ages because he would take my wages each Sunday and put it away. However one Thursday afternoon - just around my 15th birthday, he picked me up early from school and we went into town - and he surprised me with my own savings, enough to buy a coveted pair of Dr Martens 9 hole boots. It was a 90s kids dream come true.
What was funny was the identity crisis in fashion and music was so stereotypical. I floated from melancholy moody grungey teenager to street tough rnb mad gangsta then Elle Woods style icon in a matter of Monday to Sunday - each week.
I won the Athletics Age Champion every year and a few academic prizes, but only in the fluffy subjects. Science was definitely not my jam. I wasn't a diligent student; just did what I had to do, that still allowed me to enjoy every single part of life as much as I could. I did want recognition though. I loved awards, ribbons, trophies, getting named in the newsletter or called up to speak or address the assembly. I even won a chocolate bar in first term of year 9 for knowing the entire's schools' names and I felt like it was the lottery. Year 10 Student Representative Council was one of my favourite badges of honour.
I got a cool opportunity in year 9 to join the QLD Academy of Sport rowing programme. The Head Coach and TID manager visited our school and did some screening. Of course, I signed up and after a battery of cool tests at the academy on VO2, strength, flexibility etc I was selected into the programme. I started this double life of heading onto the water at 5am every day and rowing before school then turning up callused but exhilirated to my not very elite and definitely not a Head of the River type school - with this whole double life. I loved the programme and the hard work, but I didnt like the girls and lack of 'fun' in rowing. (or falling out of the boat into the river where bull sharks were and the big barges that would go past us.). I lasted only a few months, when I just didn't answer the door to my coach for training one day - and mum said I never had to go back. BIG regrets as my Olympic dream went stroking out the door.
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| Rowing - the first institution |
I did quite well in swimming and track and field during junior high. Twice qualifying for state championship finals in triple jump, the 800m and once in the 400m. I never quite got to Australian championships - with a highest placing of 4th. To be fair, I didn't even have spikes and my home training programme including jumping at the local school grounds wasn't probably going to progress me. I wish I had have asked for more from mum in that sense - because I loved track and field, I had a dream of being like Jane Fleming and winning a gold for heptathlon in the Olympics. I also wanted to be Alison Annan from the Hockeyroos. Not sure about either of those. But perhaps the crossover of so many sports helped produce a bit of a versatile utility athlete; which fared me well later in life.
My foray into elite sport produced another outlet to meet new friends and experience different things away from the nucleus of my family and school group; which also carried on for the rest of my life - so I'm very grateful for junior high for that.
I lost the first term of school in year 9 to glandular fever, then there was rowing and then I got my first period; it was around my birthday. I remember coming home from school and it made it's entrance, thank goodness, at home. I went out to mum and said 'IT came' in a completely dissatisfied and pragmatic way. As though I'd been incensely inconvenienced and didn't have time for this nonsense. Mum took me shopping for bra's and sanitary goods at the same time. That was my kind of efficiency. Just get on with it. I also didnt want to make a fuss and cause any unnecessary attention or embarassment from Dad. He was so childish and the deeper I got into my puberty journey the more excruciating he would be. Mocking me and drawing attention to everything which made me want to die a thousand times over.
In year 10 at 15 years old, I definitely matured a bit too quick for my own good. We moved house and a few things changed in our family life. Dad got out of the Army and started this other job that included a lot of nights and weekends. All of us kids were now at school, mum was working a lot more and we were a very busy household. I was given a lot of lee-way and ran off a bit on my own tangent.
I joined a netball team in my hood so that I could make friends with girls in my local neighbourhood. I was still playing every possible sport and activity at school, whilst becoming more and more adolescent in my behaviours. My wild side was waking up.
I started dating a boy who was really lovely. He played footy and joined our school quite late. My best friend and I had a huge fight over it, I didn't realise she really liked him. We got a long really great and our parents were cool with it. We went to the Year 10 social together and as I said, I matured quite fast - so he eventually became my 'First'. It was a nice affair, nothing stressful or dramatic. At his house, fairly romantic, with the odd awkward laugh - for instance, when getting the condom out of his wallet my nerves showed up as I 'tossed' the wallet to him - at a baseball pitchers velocity, hitting him in the head. Keanu Reeves and the Point Break movie was the background setting and all in all I can say, I didn't hate it. But it was definitely too soon in terms of my emotional intelligence and understanding of who I was in this crazy world. I was still the girl who was mortified by my parents knowing anything of my private life - in case they mocked me. Not because I was afraid; because I was awkwardly embarrassed of myself.
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| Point Break - a defining moment in history |
The other significant event that occurred during my junior high school years was I contacted my biological father Graham. Poor guy definitely wasn't expecting it. My mum had always told m who he was, his name and where he lived. They'd broken up fairly amicably just before I was born and it was by no major fault of his really that we hadn't had a relationship. Well at the very least, I didn't hold anything against him. I'd just decided one day that I was curious about him.
I was down at the Gold Coast visiting my nan for the July school holidays. She was out for awhile, most likely at a prayer meeting - and I got curious. I decided to phone the Telstra operator (013) and ask them for any numbers under his name in the ACT region. The operator gave me three numbers. I didn't have a plan - after all, the whole exercise was rather spontaneous - so I called the first number and the person answered. I asked if they were the person who was living in the Riverina region at the time and did they know of me - and they advised it wasn't them. Can you imagine their dinner table conversation that night. But the next was worse.
The next number went to voicemail. I listened to the greeting and proceeded to leave a message something along the lines of 'Hi Graham, my name is Demelza and I am searching for the man who would be my father. I know this would be an awkward message, but if you are the right contact, you can reach me on 0755 371745 (never forget Nan's number). Did you read that.. I left a bloody answering machine message. I could've detonated a personal world war on this guys' life inadvertently.
Now, as the story goes, the voice message landed at the right house, and that evening I received a phone call from Graham - albeit in quite a state of shock. Joyful, but definitely shocked. We yarned a bit about life and then made a promise to find a time to meet. After the call, I had to explain to Nan, and then my mum, what I had just done. Whoops. Of course, because they are both legends, there was no major drama that I recall, they were upfront and open and invited the opportunity for me to connect. Which happened the following weekend in Brisbane, when Graham flew up and we connected. For the record, I did ring the third number and had left a separate voice message. I hope that didn't cause chaos.
The meeting in Brisbane was quaint. He came to Southbank Markets where I was working and we spent the afternoon hanging out. It was the first encounter for what would be the rest of our lives. I'm super glad I began the relationship - but I have been awkward with it ever since. You've already heard about why - Dad's are to be kept at a distance. It's safer that way, for risk of humiliation. Or so I was convinced.
There we are at the end of my first 10 years of schooling.
My siblings hardly feature in my school journey from 5 to 15 (and beyond.) We were always in different campuses or schools and beside the bus trip or walk home, or on the occasions I was home after school, I hardly interacted with them. I never once was on the same campus as any of them, so even though I was the eldest of 5 at the time - I pretty much ran a solo journey. I felt that for the most of my life.
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